Yes You're Basically Good...And You Should Take Care of Yourself

At one point the Zen master Suzuki Roshi turned to his students and said, “All of you are perfect just as you are…and you could use a little improvement.” That seems to be the case with all of us. We are already perfect. We are already Buddha. And we need to stop acting from the basis of our own confusion, (read: acting like a jerk). The slight shift toward improvement that Suzuki Roshi mentions is based in developing unconditional faith in your own ability to be awake. It is recognizing that the mess aspect of who you are is transitory while the awake quality is always available and present. 

The more we deepen our meditation practice the more we discover what we call in the Shambhala tradition "basic goodness." This is the understanding that we are innately whole, complete, and okay as is. We don't need a lot of external factors to make ourselves whole - that's our birthright. It's just part of who we naturally are. Every time we sit down to meditate we are offering ourselves a precious opportunity to explore the good, bad and ugly of our humanity. The more we see, acknowledge, and embrace our humanity, the more we realize this fundamental notion of basic goodness.

Yet, while we all possess basic goodness, we sometimes feel basically shitty. We go out too late and don't get enough sleep, or we eat junk food until we feel bloated and sick, or we fall off the treadmill (figuratively) and stop exercising for a few weeks. When this happens, we might feel a bit sad or depressed. 

One of my favorite things about meditation is that it reminds us that we can always start fresh. You sit down and that first breath you're focusing on has so much potential. We can truly be present. Then we drift off and start planning our day, catch ourselves, and come back to the present moment. That is the fresh start aspect. That is the new "first breath" of our practice session. 

In the same way, when we neglect taking care of our bodies we can take a fresh start approach. We can drink some water (I'm delightfully obsessed with this water bottle from Rituals these days), we can eat some healthy food, we can go for a short run - anything to mobilize us beyond our hesitation and laxity. I can't remember doing any of the above and immediately regretting it - it's always been a positive way to hit the refresh button on my attitude and view about my life.

You may even find that taking better care of your body leads to a more pleasant experience on the meditation cushion. When you don't feel physically sluggish you can lift up through the spine and feel a sense of dignity as you sit. This translates into a more spacious relationship to your mind and thoughts. The more space we create for ourselves, the more we connect with our own innate goodness and the sense that we are already perfect, just as we are...and the improvement aspect may not be as big a thing as we thought.

Re-Committing to Our Practice

In planning the annual week-long retreat I co-teach with Susan Piver I've been thinking a lot about what it means to re-commit to our practice. Sometimes our practice is super consistent. Sometimes it's, well...not so much.

The right attitude goes a long way in getting us to the cushion. Here's a piece I wrote about how we can enter this year with a more open heart, starting on the meditation seat.

And speaking of cushions, I highly recommend investing in one if you haven't already. Yes, placing a candle, an incense burner, an image of someone you admire or even a statue helps denote "That's where I go to meditate" but in my personal experience nothing replaces a good cushion. I was recently gifted one by Rituals and am really digging it.

Last but not least, if you can't sneak away for a retreat or connect with a teacher in-person, maybe you wanna check out MNDFL Video for guided meditation. The videos range from 1-30 minutes, depending on what you can fit in. 

And remember, if you do feel like you've been slacking in the consistency area, tomorrow is a new day. Let's re-commit to sit.

End of Year Writing

I've been putting fingertips to keyboard lately and wanted to share some things I've been thinking about. 

Nobody’s perfect. We all have our faults, and most of us have gotten really good at hiding them where no one can see them. Yet when someone becomes even a little bit intimate with us, they might reveal these faults and make light of them in a skillful (or not so skillful) way. How can we possibly be okay with that? Click here for one of my favorite old texts and the advice it gives us on how to proceed.

People sometimes ask me about the benefits of meditation practice. My go-to answer is a balancing act of the scientifically proven results—you sleep better, develop resilience to stress, improve productivity, to name a few—and my personal experience that my practice has allowed me to show up more fully and authentically for the rest of my life. It has also helped me get really good at holding space for people when they are deeply suffering. When you’re in my line of work, you are surrounded, primarily, by people who are deeply suffering. Click here for my reflections on how we hold space for people to grieve and heal.

Finally, between ever-growing political divides and the urge to shrink into our smartphones, we live in a time of increasing divisiveness and isolation. Cue the latest in Buddhist advice for living a more meaningful life from Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche, head of the Shambhala tradition and author of the new book, The Lost Art of Good Conversation: A Mindful Way to Connect with Others and Enrich Everyday Life, released in October. Click here to see four key take aways on how we can connect more authentically with others through conversation. 

Lots of fun events being planned for 2018. Wishing you and yours a happy holiday season and I hope to see you and catch up in the new year.

In Honor of the International Day of Tolerance

Today is the International Day of Tolerance. Here are some inspiring words from the Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh on how we can grow our capacity to love:

"How can we help our hearts to grow every day, to be able to embrace everything? The Buddha gave a very beautiful example. Suppose you have a bowl of water and someone put a handful of salt in the bowl of water; it would be too salty for you to drink. But suppose someone threw a handful of salt into a clean mountain river. The river is deep and wide enough that you can still drink the water without tasting the salt.

"When your heart is small, you suffer a lot. But when your heart becomes bigger, very big, then the same thing does not make you suffer anymore. So the secret is how to help your heart to grow. If your heart is small, you can't accept that person, you can't tolerate him or her with his or her shortcomings. But when your heart is big, you have a lot of understanding and compassion, and then there is no problem, you don't suffer, and you embrace him or her because your heart is so big.

"We suffer because our heart is small. And we demand that the other person should change in order to be accepted by us. But when our heart is large, we don't put forth any conditions, we accept them as they are, and they have a chance to transform. The secret is how to grow our hearts. The practice of understanding helps the energy of compassion to arise. When compassion is there, we don't suffer anymore. We suffer because we don't have enough compassion. The moment when we have a lot of compassion, there is no suffering anymore. We encounter the same types of people, we encounter the same situations, but we don't suffer anymore because our love is so large.

"Helping our heart to grow big, kshanti paramita, is the capacity of embracing everyone, everything, you don't exclude anyone. In true love, you don't discriminate anymore. Whatever a person's color, religion, or political beliefs, you accept them all with no discrimination whatsoever. Inclusiveness here means nondiscrimination." 

Meditation Isn't Enough: A Buddhist Perspective on Suicide

After Robin Williams took his own life in the summer of 2014 I felt compelled to share my own story around a particularly dark period in my life. I am reminded of a statement Harvey Fierstein offered, “Please, people, do not f— with depression. It’s merciless. All it wants is to get you in a room alone and kill you. Take care of yourself.” As I continue to receive notes from people who have read Love Hurts saying that they feel paralyzed by their strong emotions, people who believe they won't ever heal, I remain heartbroken alongside them and encourage them to take excellent care of themselves.

During that dark period in 2012 I had an eclectic group of friends and I found out this morning that one of them, who struggled with mental illness since she was 18, has passed. I want to re-share this article for anyone struggling with depression in the hopes that it will help you.

Click here to read more

Resources for An Age of Bias and Confusion

I am grateful that MNDFL is able to serve as a safer and braver space for two conversations in the coming weeks that need to be had. On Monday, the Rev. angel Kyodo williams will lead a talk on creating real change and looking at how we can heal ourselves in order to heal the world around us. On September 11, Sebene Selassie picks up the thread for a talk on race, unconscious bias, and mindfulness.

August 21:
September 11:

Recent reads/listens that have been helpful for me post-Charlottesville:

MNDFL teacher Colin Beavan writes "I Need to Start With the Racist Attitudes in Me"

angel asks "Where Will You Stand?" in regards to Buddhism and white supremacy

and finally (and most poignantly for me) Representative John Lewis is interviewed for On Being; very much worth the listen

May we all live with more love.

Dharma Talk | The Buddha Walks into a Bar: Creating Enlightened Society

I am newly returned from a few weeks in retreat at Shambhala Mountain Center with my teacher, Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche. There are no words for my level of gratitude to this incredible being. If you have ever benefited from my books, talks, or practice instructions, it is because of something I learned from him. And (big news alert!) his new book is coming out in October. I'll be traveling as "host teacher" with him to Denver, NYC, and Toronto for his book tour. More info on that coming soon, I promise.

The staff at the retreat center, SMC, work incredibly hard to host the numerous programs they have there. Some of them have read my work and requested we spend some time together. As a small token of gratitude I offered a talk to them on my last night there. This is the audio recording of that talk, should you be in the mood for some words on suffering, meditation, and how the latter can change the world. 

Your Mindfulness Questions Not Answered

Having been raised Buddhist and having taught meditation for the last sixteen years I’m delighted to see the spike in interest in mindfulness. That said, sometimes people may not really know what that word means. Since my first book, The Buddha Walks into a Bar, came out five years ago, a number of people have read it and written me questions about mindful living. Many of those questions made it into my second book, Walk Like a Buddha. Here are the questions that didn’t make it:*


My dog is the light of my life and my heart breaks entirely every time I see him. His only gaping flaw that makes me so mad that I could scream is that he eats his food so fast. We sit down to dinner together and before I even get past my appetizer he’s eaten all of his dog food. Do you have any tips for mindful eating for my dog? 


I recently discovered Mindful Mayo at my local Whole Foods and I love the taste. But no matter how much I eat it I don’t feel myself becoming more mindful! Am I eating it right? Should I put it somewhere other than my mouth? 


I’m a career assassin and thanks to my daily mindfulness meditation practice I’m in line to win Assassin of the Year by my guild. Yet I can’t seem to shake the feeling that there might be something more to life. Is there? Did the Buddha teach anything beyond mindfulness?


I love what you’ve done with MNDFL. I’m a career psychic and while I’m not exactly sure what the future holds for me I do know that I’m meant to open a studio just like what you have opened in New York City. I’ve never meditated before but think that owning a meditation studio must be the best job ever with zero stress as a business owner. Can you send me your financials - and better yet any leads on investors - so I can replicate it?


Hi I’m sixteen years old and I love mindfulness so much. I watch YouTube videos on mindfulness where the guy guides me through a guided exercise where I take money from my parents’ wallets and mail it to him in Boise, Idaho. I feel so at peace when I do this. Are there any additional types of mindfulness meditations I can do?


I love to do mindfulness all the time. I mindfully snowboard, mindfully jet ski, mindfully do kegstands, and mindfully bully people online. The one thing I don’t do is meditate. Do I really have to do that? People say it’s the “foundation of mindfulness” or whatever. But it sounds sorta boring so I’m just gonna go on Facebook and troll people, byeeee.


*these are not real questions that I’ve least for the most part


Meditation and Grief: A Father’s Day Reflection

Let me start with a joke: a woman hosts a costume party in her home where everyone is supposed to show up dressed as an emotion. The woman finds herself shocked when she opens her front door and her friend is completely naked, except for a pear around his penis. “Larry! What are you supposed to be?” she exclaims. “What?” he says, “It’s not obvious? I’m fucking ‘dis pear!” Needless to say, despair is an ugly emotion.

Four years ago I lost my father, which is a euphemistic way to say he’s dead, but it’s still hard to say those words. Days like Father’s Day are particularly hard, sandwiched somewhere between the anniversary of his death and his birthday. On these days, emotions like despair and grief are tough to work with, because they, at times, feel so fathomless. 

Whether you are going through the death of a loved one, a rough break up, or sudden unemployment strong emotions around heartbreak can get their hooks into you and, once you’re hooked, they are hard to shake. Looking at intense grief is like staring into the sun. You can’t do it directly or if you do, you look only for a second at a time. At least that’s how I feel each time I suffer a loss of this nature.

Now I realize I’ve written a whole book on heartbreak not so long ago, so what more can I add to the topic? Well, a certain synchronicity occurs in my grieving patterns where they mimic patterns often perceived as obstacles to meditation. They are: laziness, speedy-busyness and disheartenment.


I’ve had the experience of losing too many people in my life, and I’ve seen a cycle play out that might feel familiar to you too. For the first several weeks after a loved one has passed I have a hard time getting out of bed. I can’t eat. I can’t exercise. I can’t really do anything. From an outside point of view this phase of my mourning could be perceived as me being lazy. The Tibetan word for laziness is lelo, which is interesting in that it sounds exactly how being lazy feels: You just want to lay low.

Laziness from a meditation point of view often shows up as feeling an aversion to the practice and convincing yourself you don’t have to do it. It can be as simple as hearing the rain hitting your window, feeling the warmth of your comforter and looking over at the meditation cushion in the corner of your room with disdain. It isn’t nearly as warm and cozy as your bed, and you deserve an extra 20 minutes of sleep, so you figure you ought to just skip your meditation practice. That’s laziness. If you find yourself struggling to get to your meditation seat, just remember to take it easy on yourself, drop judgment and exert yourself just a little more than you are comfortable with. 

When it comes to working with my grief that means exerting myself a bit more than I want to, to see friends even if I don’t feel social in order to gain an extra layer of support and talk about what I am going through. It can also look like relating to the details of your life, such as cleaning up your home or catching up on work-related emails. You may find that the more you exert yourself beyond your desire to lay low, the more inspired you feel. Of course, it is important to balance this advice with gentleness to yourself; you need to take extra good care of yourself while you are mourning.


After the initial weeks of laying low I pick myself up and see if there is a way for me to channel my grief. Because I am who I am, that often looks like me throwing myself into some work that I find meaningful, i.e. I feel is beneficial to other people, in the hopes that this person I’m mourning might be proud. Yet I often overdo it, working 14 to 16 hours a day.

However, even if I am pushing myself to the max, there are still moments when it’s just me and my emotions, no matter how hard I might try to avoid them. When you’re in these situations you might notice that whenever you are in the car alone, or taking a shower, or any other time you literally have three or more minutes to yourself, you end up sobbing. In these cases, our grief is all-pervasive and yet we often try to convince ourselves that we’re too busy to deal with it. (Spoiler alert: that’s not how it works.)

From a meditation vantage point this is known as speedy-busyness. A real technical term, that one. It’s the idea that you know you want to meditate. It’s definitely something you want to do. But when you get up in the morning you check your email and then you realize you’re late for work so you scramble to get there on time, swearing you’ll meditate when you get home. As you’re about to clock out a friend texts you and asks if you want to drop by and see her new place so you do but you really will meditate after. Then you get home and you smell so you decide to shower. Then your mom calls. Then you check your email again. Then it’s 10 p.m. and you have to get up early so you realize you just don’t have time for that 10 minutes of meditation.

Frankly, you do. You do have 10 minutes you can meditate. It’s just that you’ve spent an entire day convincing yourself that you don’t, making everything other than your meditation practice a priority. That is speedy-busyness, a form of avoiding your practice through conceptual means.

When you are grieving, you might experience a period within which you decide you need to do a hundred million things. You may not throw yourself into an around-the-clock work schedule like I used to (I’ve gotten better over the years about this one), but you might fill up your time with appointments, meetings, social engagements, everything and anything just so you don’t have to acknowledge that poignant layer of heartbreak boiling away just underneath the surface. As soon as you’re not busy you know you’re going to be a mess, so you avoid that eventuality at all costs.

Speedy-busyness is one of the reasons I recommend that people have a set time that they meditate. If you say, “I meditate at 8:00 a.m. every day, Monday to Friday,” then you will build out your schedule to include that commitment. It will not keep falling to the back burner. So I recommend having a consistent time you meditate, and making that a priority. 

Similarly, when working with grief, it may be helpful to have certain times when you allow yourself to just be with whatever you are feeling. A regular session with a therapist, or a daily long walk, or a consistent tea time might help you glance at the sun of your grief in a way that feels workable.


Throughout my grieving process I have definitely experienced fucking ‘dis pear. Despair and disheartenment manifested as me wondering if I would ever be happy again and generally feeling lost and alone. There have been times in my life when the grief was so profound that I felt that I would never again be more than that emotion.

Disheartenment is considered the third obstacle to meditation. Because meditation is such a gradual path, where it may take weeks or months before you start to notice you become more present or calmer, people often get disheartened. They think that meditation isn’t working properly, or they aren’t doing it right, because they are not immediately at peace with themselves after a week of consistent practice.

For meditation training, the key antidote to all of these obstacles is having a strong motivation to practice. I have found that over the years meditation has made me kinder, or at least less of a jerk. I find that it has made me more present, not just with my breath while meditating but with conversations with friends and family, with the difficult moments in my life, when I’m kissing someone and enjoying their company. It has given me the ability to enjoy my life, and feel content within the present moment, regardless of whether what I am experiencing is conventionally good or bad, fun or painful.

Each of us has to come up with our own motivation to meditate. At first it might be something like, “I don’t want to be so stressed out,” or, “I want to learn to be comfortable with the strong emotions I am feeling.” Those are both great. Over time you may find that your motivation shifts. You were in it to better yourself but gradually your heart has opened and you see that meditation is allowing you to connect more with other people. Your motivation might transition into, “I want to learn more about myself so I can be more present with others,” or, “I want to be able to be of benefit to the world as a result of this practice.”

As for grief, it has been said that time heals all wounds. Grief, like all emotions, shifts and changes over time. Not an hour goes by when I do not think fondly of the loved ones who are gone and miss them, but strong emotions like despair no longer hold such sway over my emotional well-being. Partly that is time, but partly that is because that I have developed a motivation out of this tragedy that I can look to as a compass for navigating my grief.

In considering a dearly departed friend, one motivation I have in working with my grief is to become as good a friend to others as he was to me. For my father, it is to show up for people one-on-one in the way that he did throughout his career as a psychiatrist. For someone who might be mourning a loss of a romantic relationship, your motivation might be to learn to love yourself more whole-heartedly before you love again. For someone who is grieving the loss of a job your motivation might be realizing that you are inherently capable and talented and coming back to that knowledge over and over again.

The bottom line is you have to engage this process, be it developing a meditation practice or grieving for a loss, with a motivation that feels right to you. Because both are such gradual paths of healing, you need to be patient and put in the time to let things shift within you. When you do that you can reflect back and say, “I guess this meditation stuff is working,” or, “I feel less despair than I used to.” It may take weeks, months or even years, but if you can look back and say, “Overall, I am doing okay,” then you will be motivated to continue looking at your mind and your grief in a way that feels wholesome and worth-while. Over time, fucking despair may fade away and you notice that you are actually content.

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(this piece was adapted from an earlier article following another great loss of - the death of a friend. the original piece can be found on The Huffington Post)