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For my wife, who is more monk than I will ever be
 Introduction

If you want a new idea, read an old book.

—attributed to Ivan Pavlov (among others)

When I was eighteen years old, in my rst year of college, at Cass

Business School in London, one of my friends asked me to go with
him to hear a monk give a talk.
I resisted. “Why would I want to go hear some monk?”
I often went to see CEOs, celebrities, and other successful
people lecture on campus, but I had zero interest in a monk. I
preferred to hear speakers who’d actually accomplished things in
life.
My friend persisted, and nally I said, “As long as we go to a bar
afterward, I’m in.” “Falling in love” is an expression used almost
exclusively to describe romantic relationships. But that night, as I
listened to the monk talk about his experience, I fell in love. The
gure on stage was a thirty-something Indian man. His head was
shaved and he wore a sa ron robe. He was intelligent, eloquent,
and charismatic. He spoke about the principle of “sel ess
sacri ce.” When he said that we should plant trees under whose
shade we did not plan to sit, I felt an unfamiliar thrill run through
my body.
I was especially impressed when I found out that he’d been a
student at IIT Bombay, which is the MIT of India and, like MIT,
nearly impossible to get into. He’d traded that opportunity to
become a monk, walking away from everything that my friends
and I were chasing. Either he was crazy or he was onto something.
 My whole life I’d been fascinated by people who’d gone from
nothing to something—rags-to-riches stories. Now, for the rst
time, I was in the presence of someone who’d deliberately done the
opposite. He’d given up the life the world had told me we should
all want. But instead of being an embittered failure, he appeared
joyous, con dent, and at peace. In fact, he seemed happier than
anyone I’d ever met. At the age of eighteen, I had encountered a lot
of people who were rich. I’d listened to a lot of people who were
famous, strong, good-looking, or all three. But I don’t think I’d
met anyone who was truly happy.
Afterward, I pushed my way through the crowds to tell him
how amazing he was, and how much he’d inspired me. “How can I
spend more time with you?” I heard myself asking. I felt the urge
to be around people who had the values I wanted, not the things I
wanted.
The monk told me that he was traveling and speaking in the
UK all that week, and I was welcome to come to the rest of his
events. And so I did.

My rst impression of the monk, whose name was Gauranga Das,

was that he was doing something right, and later I would discover
that science backs that up. In 2002, a Tibetan monk named
Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche traveled from an area just outside
Kathmandu, Nepal, to the University of Wisconsin–Madison so
that researchers could watch his brain activity while he meditated.
The scientists covered the monk’s head with a shower cap–like
device (an EEG) that had more than 250 tiny wires sticking out of
it, each with a sensor that a lab tech attached to his scalp. At the
time of the study, the monk had accumulated sixty-two thousand
hours of lifetime meditation practice.
As a team of scientists, some of them seasoned meditators
themselves, watched from a control room, the monk began the
meditation protocol the researchers had designed—alternating
between one minute of meditating on compassion and a thirty-
second rest period. He quickly cycled through this pattern four
times in a row, cued by a translator. The researchers watched in
awe; at almost the exact moment the monk began his meditation,
the EEG registered a sudden and massive spike in activity. The
scientists assumed that with such a large, quick bump, the monk
must have changed positions or otherwise moved, yet to the
observing eye, he remained perfectly still.
What was remarkable was not just the consistency of the
monk’s brain activity—turning “o ” and “on” repeatedly from
activity to rest period—but also the fact that he needed no “warm-
up” period. If you’re a meditator, or have at least tried to calm
your brain, you know that typically it takes some time to quiet the
parade of distracting thoughts that marches through your mind.
Rinpoche seemed to need no such transition period. Indeed, he
seemed to be able to come in and out of a powerful meditative
state as easily as ipping a switch. More than ten years after these
initial studies, scans of the forty-one-year-old monk’s brain
showed fewer signs of aging than his peers’. The researchers said he
had the brain of someone ten years younger.
Researchers who scanned Buddhist monk Matthieu Ricard’s
brain subsequently labeled him “the World’s Happiest Man” after
they found the highest level of gamma waves—those associated
with attention, memory, learning, and happiness—ever recorded by
science. One monk who’s o the charts may seem like an anomaly,
but Ricard isn’t alone. Twenty-one other monks who had their
brains scanned during a variety of meditation practices also
showed gamma wave levels that spiked higher and lasted longer
(even during sleep) than non-meditators.
Why should we think like monks? If you wanted to know how to
dominate the basketball court, you might turn to Michael Jordan;
if you wanted to innovate, you might investigate Elon Musk; you
might study Beyoncé to learn how to perform. If you want to train
your mind to nd peace, calm, and purpose? Monks are the
experts. Brother David Steindl-Rast, a Benedictine monk who
cofounded gratefulness.org, writes, “A layperson who is
consciously aiming to be continuously alive in the Now is a
monk.”
Monks can withstand temptations, refrain from criticizing,
deal with pain and anxiety, quiet the ego, and build lives that brim
with purpose and meaning. Why shouldn’t we learn from the
calmest, happiest, most purposeful people on earth? Maybe you’re
thinking it’s easy for monks to be calm, serene, and relaxed.
They’re hidden away in tranquil settings where they don’t have to
deal with jobs and romantic partners and, well, rush hour tra c.
Maybe you’re wondering, How could thinking like a monk help me
here in the modern world?
First of all, monks weren’t born monks. They’re people from
all sorts of backgrounds who’ve chosen to transform themselves.
Matthieu Ricard, “the World’s Happiest Man,” was a biologist in
his former life; Andy Puddicombe, cofounder of the meditation
app Headspace, trained to be in the circus; I know monks who
were in nance and in rock bands. They grow up in schools,
towns, and cities just like you. You don’t need to light candles in
your home, walk around barefoot, or post photos of yourself
doing tree pose on a mountaintop. Becoming a monk is a mindset
that anyone can adopt.
Like most monks today, I didn’t grow up in an ashram. I spent
most of my childhood doing un-monk-like things. Until the age of
fourteen, I was an obedient kid. I grew up in north London with
my parents and my younger sister. I’m from a middle-class Indian
family. Like a lot of parents, mine were committed to my
education and to giving me a shot at a good future. I stayed out of
trouble, did well in school, and tried my best to make everybody
happy.
But when I started secondary school, I took a left turn. I’d been
heavy as a child, and bullied for it, but now I lost that weight and
began playing soccer and rugby. I turned to subjects that
traditional Indian parents don’t generally favor, like art, design,
and philosophy. All this would have been ne, but I also started
mixing with the wrong crowd. I became involved in a bunch of
bad stu . Experimenting with drugs. Fighting. Drinking too
much. It did not go well. In high school I was suspended three
times. Finally, the school asked me to leave.
“I’ll change,” I promised. “If you let me stay, I’ll change.” The
school let me stay, and I cleaned up my act.
Finally, in college, I started to notice the value of hard work,
sacri ce, discipline, persistence in pursuit of one’s goals. The
problem was that at the time, I didn’t have any goals apart from
getting a good job, getting married one day, maybe having a family
—the usual. I suspected there was something deeper, but I didn’t
know what it was.
By the time Gauranga Das came to speak at my school, I was
primed to explore new ideas, a new model of living, a path that
veered from the one everyone (including myself) assumed I would
take. I wanted to grow as a person. I didn’t want to know humility
or compassion and empathy only as abstract concepts, I wanted to
live them. I didn’t want discipline, character, and integrity to just
be things I read about. I wanted to live them.
For the next four years, I juggled two worlds, going from bars
and steakhouses to meditation and sleeping on the oor. In
London, I studied management with an emphasis on behavioral
science and interned at a large consulting rm and spent time with
my friends and family. And at an ashram in Mumbai I read and
studied ancient texts, spending most of my Christmas and
summer holidays living with monks. My values gradually shifted. I
found myself wanting to be around monks. In fact, I wanted to
immerse myself in the monk mindset. More and more, the work I
was doing in the corporate world seemed to lack meaning. What
was the point if it had no positive impact on anyone?
When I graduated from college, I traded my suits for robes and
joined the ashram, where we slept on the oor and lived out of
gym lockers. I lived and traveled across India, the UK, and Europe.
I meditated for hours every day and studied ancient scriptures. I
had the opportunity to serve with my fellow monks, helping with
the ongoing work of transforming an ashram in a village outside
Mumbai into an eco-friendly spiritual retreat (the Govardhan
Ecovillage) and volunteering with a food program that distributes
over a million meals a day (Annamrita).
If I can learn to think like a monk, anyone can.

The Hindu monks I studied with use the Vedas as their

foundational texts. (The title is from the Sanskrit word veda,
meaning knowledge. Sanskrit is an ancient language that’s the
precursor of most of the languages spoken in South Asia today.)
You could argue that philosophy began with this ancient
collection of scriptures, which originated in the area that now
covers parts of Pakistan and northwest India at least three
thousand years ago; they form the basis of Hinduism.
Like Homer’s epic poems, the Vedas were rst transmitted
orally, then eventually written down, but because of the fragility
of the materials (palm leaves and birch bark!) most of the surviving
documents we have are at most a few hundred years old. The
Vedas include hymns, historical stories, poems, prayers, chants,
ceremonial rituals, and advice for daily life.
In my life and in this book, I frequently refer to the Bhagavad
Gita (which means “Song of God”). This is loosely based on the
Upanishads, writings from around 800–400 BCE. The Bhagavad
Gita is considered a kind of universal and timeless life manual. The
tale isn’t told about a monk or meant for a spiritual context. It’s
spoken to a married man who happens to be a talented archer. It
wasn’t intended to apply only to one religion or region—it’s for all
humanity. Eknath Easwaran, spiritual author and professor who
has translated many of India’s sacred texts, including the Bhagavad
Gita, calls it “India’s most important gift to the world.” In his
1845 journal, Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote, “I owed—my friend
and I owed—a magni cent day to the Bhagavat Geeta [sic]. It was
the rst of books; it was as if an empire spoke to us, nothing small
or unworthy, but large, serene, consistent, the voice of an old
intelligence which in another age and climate had pondered and
thus disposed of the same questions which exercise us.” It’s said
that there have been more commentaries written about the Gita
than any other scripture.
In this book one of my goals is to help you connect with its
timeless wisdom, along other ancient teachings that were the basis
of my education as a monk—and that have signi cant relevance to
the challenges we all face today.
What struck me most when I studied monk philosophy is that
in the last three thousand years, humans haven’t really changed.
Sure, we’re taller and on average we live longer, but I was surprised
and impressed to nd that the monk teachings talk about
forgiveness, energy, intentions, living with purpose, and other
topics in ways that are as resonant today as they must have been
when they were written.
Even more impressively, monk wisdom can largely be
supported by science, as we’ll see throughout this book. For
millennia, monks have believed that meditation and mindfulness
are bene cial, that gratitude is good for you, that service makes
you happier, and more that you will learn in this book. They
developed practices around these ideas long before modern science
could show or validate them.
Albert Einstein said, “If you can’t explain something simply, you
don’t understand it well enough.” When I saw how relevant the
lessons I was learning were to the modern world, I wanted to dive
deeper into them so that I could share them with other people.
Three years after I moved to Mumbai, my teacher, Gauranga
Das, told me he believed I would be of greater value and service if I
left the ashram and shared what I’d learned with the world. My
three years as a monk were like a school of life. It was hard to
become a monk, and even harder to leave. But applying the
wisdom to life outside the ashram—the hardest part—felt like the
nal exam. Every day I am nding that the monk mindset works—
that ancient wisdom is shockingly relevant today. That is why I’m
sharing it.
These days I still consider myself a monk, though I usually refer
to myself as a “former” monk, since I’m married, and monks aren’t
permitted to marry. I live in Los Angeles, which people tell me is
one of the world capitals of materialism, facade, fantasy, and
overall dodginess. But why live in a place that’s already
enlightened? Now, in the world and in this book, I share my
takeaways from the life I’ve lived and what I’ve learned. This book
is completely nonsectarian. It’s not some sneaky conversion
strategy. I swear! I can also promise that if you engage with and
practice the material I present, you will nd real meaning, passion,
and purpose in your life.
Never before have so many people been so dissatis ed—or so
preoccupied with chasing “happiness.” Our culture and media
feed us images and concepts about who and what we should be,
while holding up models of accomplishment and success. Fame,
money, glamour, sex—in the end none of these things can satisfy
us. We’ll simply seek more and more, a circuit that leads to
frustration, disillusion, dissatisfaction, unhappiness, and
exhaustion.
 I like to draw a contrast between the monk mindset and what is
often referred to as the monkey mind. Our minds can either
elevate us or pull us down. Today we all struggle with
overthinking, procrastination, and anxiety as a result of indulging
the monkey mind. The monkey mind switches aimlessly from
thought to thought, challenge to challenge, without really solving
anything. But we can elevate to the monk mindset by digging
down to the root of what we want and creating actionable steps
for growth. The monk mindset lifts us out of confusion and
distraction and helps us nd clarity, meaning, and direction.

MONKEY MIND MONK MIND

Overwhelmed by multiple branches Focused on the root of the issue

Coasts in the passenger seat Lives intentionally and consciously

Complains, compares, criticizes Compassionate, caring, collaborative

Overthinks and procrastinates Analyzes and articulates

Distracted by small things Disciplined

Short-term grati cation Long-term gain

Demanding and entitled Enthusiastic, determined, patient

Changes on a whim Commits to a mission, vision, or goal

Ampli es negatives and fears Works on breaking down negatives and

fears

Self-centered and obsessed Self-care for service

Multitasking Single-tasking

Controlled by anger, worry, and fear Controls and engages energy wisely

Does whatever feels good Seeks self-control and mastery

Looks for pleasure Looks for meaning

Looks for temporary xes Looks for genuine solutions

“Thinking like a monk” posits another way of viewing and

approaching life. A way of rebellion, detachment, rediscovery,
purpose, focus, discipline—and service. The goal of monk
thinking is a life free of ego, envy, lust, anxiety, anger, bitterness,
baggage. To my mind, adopting the monk mindset isn’t just
possible—it’s necessary. We have no other choice. We need to nd
calm, stillness, and peace.

I vividly remember my rst day of monk school. I had just shaved

my head but I wasn’t wearing robes yet, and I still looked like I was
from London. I noticed a child monk—he can’t have been more
than ten years old—teaching a group of ve-year-olds. He had a
great aura about him, the poise and con dence of an adult.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“We just taught their rst class ever,” he said, then asked me,
“What did you learn in your rst day of school?”
“I started to learn the alphabet and numbers. What did they
learn?”
“The rst thing we teach them is how to breathe.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because the only thing that stays with you from the moment
you’re born until the moment you die is your breath. All your
friends, your family, the country you live in, all of that can change.
The one thing that stays with you is your breath.”
This ten-year-old monk added, “When you get stressed—what
changes? Your breath. When you get angry—what changes? Your
breath. We experience every emotion with the change of the
breath. When you learn to navigate and manage your breath, you
can navigate any situation in life.”
Already I was being taught the most important lesson: to focus
on the root of things, not the leaf of the tree or symptoms of the
problem. And I was learning, through direct observation, that
anybody can be a monk, even if they’re only ve or ten years old.
When we’re born, the rst thing we must do is breathe. But
just as life gets more complicated for that newborn baby, sitting
still and breathing can be very challenging. What I hope to do in
this book is to show you the monk way—we go to the root of
things, go deep into self-examination. It is only through this
curiosity, thought, e ort, and revelation that we nd our way to
peace, calm, and purpose. Using the wisdom I was given by my
teachers in the ashram, I hope to guide you there.
In the pages ahead, I will walk you through three stages of
adapting to the monk mindset. First, we will let go, stripping
ourselves from the external in uences, internal obstacles, and fears
that hold us back. You can think of this as a cleansing that will
make space for growth. Second, we will grow. I will help you
reshape your life so that you can make decisions with intention,
purpose, and con dence. Finally, we will give, looking to the world
beyond ourselves, expanding and sharing our sense of gratitude,
and deepening our relationships. We will share our gifts and love
with others and discover the true joy and surprising bene ts of
service.
Along the way, I will introduce you to three very di erent types
of meditation that I recommend including in your practice:
breathwork, visualization, and sound. All three have bene ts, but
the simplest way to di erentiate them is to know that you do
breathwork for the physical bene ts—to nd stillness and balance,
to calm yourself; visualization for the psychological bene ts—to
heal the past and prepare for the future; and chanting for the
psychic bene ts—to connect with your deepest self and the
universe, for real puri cation.
You don’t have to meditate to bene t from this book, but if
you do, the tools I give you will be sharper. I would go so far as to
say that this entire book is a meditation—a re ection on our
beliefs and values and intentions, how we see ourselves, how we
make decisions, how to train our minds, and our ways of choosing
and interacting with people. Achieving such deep self-awareness is
the purpose and reward of meditation.
How would a monk think about this? That may not be a
question you ask yourself right now—probably isn’t close at all—
but it will be by the end of the book.
PART ONE

LET GO
 ONE

IDENTITY
I Am What I Think I Am

It is better to live your own destiny imperfectly than to live

an imitation of somebody else’s life with perfection.
—Bhagavad Gita 3.35

In 1902, the sociologist Charles Horton Cooley wrote: “I am not what I

think I am, and I am not what you think I am. I am what I think you
think I am.”
Let that blow your mind for a moment.
Our identity is wrapped up in what others think of us—or, more
accurately, what we think others think of us.
Not only is our self-image tied up in how we think others see us, but
most of our e orts at self-improvement are really just us trying to meet
that imagined ideal. If we think someone we admire sees wealth as
success, then we chase wealth to impress that person. If we imagine that a
friend is judging our looks, we tailor our appearance in response. In West
Side Story, Maria meets a boy who’s into her. What’s her very next song?
“I Feel Pretty.”
As of this writing, the world’s only triple Best Actor Oscar winner,
Daniel Day-Lewis, has acted in just six lms since 1998. He prepares for
each role extensively, immersing himself completely in his character. For
the role of Bill the Butcher in Martin Scorsese’s Gangs of New York, he
trained as a butcher, spoke with a thick Irish accent on and o the set,
and hired circus performers to teach him how to throw knives. And
that’s only the beginning. He wore only authentic nineteenth-century
clothing and walked around Rome in character, starting arguments and
 ghts with strangers. Perhaps thanks to that clothing, he caught
pneumonia.
Day-Lewis was employing a technique called method acting, which
requires the actor to live as much like his character as possible in order to
become the role he’s playing. This is an incredible skill and art, but often
method actors become so absorbed in their character that the role takes
on a life beyond the stage or screen. “I will admit that I went mad, totally
mad,” Day-Lewis said to the Independent years later, admitting the role
was “not so good for my physical or mental health.”
Unconsciously, we’re all method acting to some degree. We have
personas we play online, at work, with friends, and at home. These
di erent personas have their bene ts. They enable us to make the money
that pays our bills, they help us function in a workplace where we don’t
always feel comfortable, they let us maintain relationships with people
we don’t really like but need to interact with. But often our identity has
so many layers that we lose sight of the real us, if we ever knew who or
what that was in the rst place. We bring our work role home with us,
and we take the role we play with our friends into our romantic life,
without any conscious control or intention. However successfully we
play our roles, we end up feeling dissatis ed, depressed, unworthy, and
unhappy. The “I” and “me,” small and vulnerable to begin with, get
distorted.
We try to live up to what we think others think of us, even at the
expense of our values.
Rarely, if ever, do we consciously, intentionally, create our own
values. We make life choices using this twice-re ected image of who we
might be, without really thinking it through. Cooley called this
phenomenon the “Looking-Glass Self.”
We live in a perception of a perception of ourselves, and we’ve lost
our real selves as a result. How can we recognize who we are and what
makes us happy when we’re chasing the distorted re ection of someone
else’s dreams?
You might think that the hard part about becoming a monk is letting
go of the fun stu : partying, sex, watching TV, owning things, sleeping
in an actual bed (okay, the bed part was pretty rough). But before I took
that step there was a bigger hurdle I had to overcome: breaking my
“career” choice to my parents.
By the time I was wrapping up my nal year of college, I had decided
what path I wanted to take. I told my parents I would be turning down
the job o ers that had come my way. I always joke that as far as my
parents were concerned, I had three career options: doctor, lawyer, or
failure. There’s no better way to tell your parents that everything they
did for you was a waste than to become a monk.
Like all parents, mine had dreams for me, but at least I had eased
them into the idea that I might become a monk: Every year since I was
eighteen I’d spent part of the summer interning at a nance job in
London and part of the year training at the ashram in Mumbai. By the
time I made my decision, my mother’s rst concern was the same as any
mother’s: my well-being. Would I have health care? Was “seeking
enlightenment” just a fancy way of saying “sitting around all day”?
Even more challenging for my mother was that we were surrounded
by friends and family who shared the doctor-lawyer-failure de nition of
success. Word spread that I was making this radical move, and her friends
started saying “But you’ve invested so much in his education” and “He’s
been brainwashed” and “He’s going to waste his life.” My friends too
thought I was failing at life. I heard “You’re never going to get a job
again” and “You’re throwing away any hope of earning a living.”
When you try to live your most authentic life, some of your
relationships will be put in jeopardy. Losing them is a risk worth
bearing; nding a way to keep them in your life is a challenge
worth taking on.
Luckily, to my developing monk mind, the voices of my parents and
their friends were not the most important guidelines I used when
making this decision. Instead I relied on my own experience. Every year
since I was eighteen I had tested both lives. I didn’t come home from my
summer nance jobs feeling anything but hungry for dinner. But every
time I left the ashram I thought, That was amazing. I just had the best
time of my life. Experimenting with these widely diverse experiences,
values, and belief systems helped me understand my own.
The reactions to my choice to become a monk are examples of the
external pressures we all face throughout our lives. Our families, our
friends, society, media—we are surrounded by images and voices telling
us who we should be and what we should do.
They clamor with opinions and expectations and obligations. Go
straight from high school to the best college, nd a lucrative job, get
married, buy a home, have children, get promoted. Cultural norms exist
for a reason—there is nothing wrong with a society that o ers models of
what a ful lling life might look like. But if we take on these goals without
re ection, we’ll never understand why we don’t own a home or we’re not
happy where we live, why our job feels hollow, whether we even want a
spouse or any of the goals we’re striving for.
My decision to join the ashram turned up the volume of opinions and
concerns around me, but, conveniently, my experiences in the ashram
had also given me the tools I needed to lter out that noise. The cause
and the solution were the same. I was less vulnerable to the noises around
me, telling me what was normal, safe, practical, best. I didn’t shut out
the people who loved me—I cared about them and didn’t want them to
worry—but neither did I let their de nitions of success and happiness
dictate my choices. It was—at the time—the hardest decision I’d ever
made, and it was the right one.
The voices of parents, friends, education, and media all crowd a
young person’s mind, seeding beliefs and values. Society’s de nition of a
happy life is everybody’s and nobody’s. The only way to build a
meaningful life is to lter out that noise and look within. This is the rst
step to building your monk mind.
 We will start this journey the way monks do, by clearing away
distractions. First, we’ll look at the external forces that shape us and
distract us from our values. Then we will take stock of the values that
currently shape our lives and re ect on whether they’re in line with who
we want to be and how we want to live.

IS THIS DUST OR IS IT ME?

Gauranga Das o ered me a beautiful metaphor to illustrate the external
in uences that obscure our true selves.

We are in a storeroom, lined with unused books and boxes full of

artifacts. Unlike the rest of the ashram, which is always tidy and
well swept, this place is dusty and draped in cobwebs. The senior
monk leads me up to a mirror and says, “What can you see?”
Through the thick layer of dust, I can’t even see my reflection. I
say as much, and the monk nods. Then he wipes the arm of his robe
across the glass. A cloud of dust puffs into my face, stinging my eyes
and filling my throat.
He says, “Your identity is a mirror covered with dust. When you
first look in the mirror, the truth of who you are and what you value
is obscured. Clearing it may not be pleasant, but only when that dust
is gone can you see your true reflection.”

This was a practical demonstration of the words of Chaitanya, a

sixteenth-century Bengali Hindu saint. Chaitanya called this state of
a airs ceto-darpaṇa-mārjanam, or clearance of the impure mirror of the
mind.
The foundation of virtually all monastic traditions is removing
distractions that prevent us from focusing on what matters most—
nding meaning in life by mastering physical and mental desires. Some
traditions give up speaking, some give up sex, some give up worldly
possessions, and some give up all three. In the ashram, we lived with just
what we needed and nothing more. I experienced rsthand the
enlightenment of letting go. When we are buried in nonessentials, we
lose track of what is truly signi cant. I’m not asking you to give up any
of these things, but I want to help you recognize and lter out the noise
of external in uences. This is how we clear the dust and see if those
values truly re ect you.
Guiding values are the principles that are most important to us and
that we feel should guide us: who we want to be, how we treat ourselves
and others. Values tend to be single-word concepts like freedom,
equality, compassion, honesty. That might sound rather abstract and
idealistic, but values are really practical. They’re a kind of ethical GPS we
can use to navigate through life. If you know your values, you have
directions that point you toward the people and actions and habits that
are best for you. Just as when we drive through a new area, we wander
aimlessly without values; we take wrong turns, we get lost, we’re trapped
by indecision. Values make it easier for you to surround yourself with the
right people, make tough career choices, use your time more wisely, and
focus your attention where it matters. Without them we are swept away
by distractions.

WHERE VALUES COME FROM

Our values don’t come to us in our sleep. We don’t think them through
consciously. Rarely do we even put them into words. But they exist
nonetheless. Everyone is born into a certain set of circumstances, and our
values are de ned by what we experience. Were we born into hardship or
luxury? Where did we receive praise? Parents and caregivers are often our
loudest fans and critics. Though we might rebel in our teenage years, we
are generally compelled to please and imitate those authority gures.
Looking back, think about how your time with your parents was spent.
Playing, enjoying conversation, working on projects together? What did
they tell you was most important, and did it match what mattered most
to them? Who did they want you to be? What did they want you to
accomplish? How did they expect you to behave? Did you absorb these
ideals, and have they worked for you?
From the start, our educations are another powerful in uence. The
subjects that are taught. The cultural angle from which they are taught.
The way we are expected to learn. A fact-driven curriculum doesn’t
encourage creativity, a narrow cultural approach doesn’t foster tolerance
for people from di erent backgrounds and places, and there are few
opportunities to immerse ourselves in our passions, even if we know
them from an early age. This is not to say that school doesn’t prepare us
for life—and there are many di erent educational models out there,
some of which are less restrictive—but it is worth taking a step back to
consider whether the values you carried from school feel right to you.

THE MEDIA MIND GAME

As a monk, I learned early on that our values are in uenced by whatever
absorbs our minds. We are not our minds, but the mind is the vehicle by
which we decide what is important in our hearts. The movies we watch,
the music we hear, the books we read, the TV shows we binge, the
people we follow online and o ine. What’s on your news feed is feeding
your mind. The more we are absorbed in celebrity gossip, images of
success, violent video games, and troubling news, the more our values are
tainted with envy, judgment, competition, and discontent.

TRY THIS: WHERE DID YOUR VALUES COME FROM?

It can be hard to perceive the effect these casual influences have on us. Values
are abstract, elusive, and the world we live in constantly pushes blatant and
subliminal suggestions as to what we should want, and how we should live, and
how we form our ideas of who we are.
Write down some of the values that shape your life. Next to each, write the
origin. Put a checkmark next to each value that you truly share.
Example:

VALUE ORIGIN IS IT TRUE TO ME?

Kindness Parent ✓

Appearance Media Not in the same way

Wealth Parent No

Good grades School Interfered with real

learning

Knowledge School ✓

Family Tradition Family: yes, but not

traditional

Observing and evaluating are key to thinking like a monk, and they
begin with space and stillness. For monks, the rst step in ltering the
noise of external in uences is a material letting go. I had three stints
visiting the ashram, graduated college, then o cially became a monk.
After a couple months of training at the Bhaktivedanta Manor, a temple
in the countryside north of London, I headed to India, arriving at the
village ashram in the beginning of September 2010. I exchanged my
relatively stylish clothes for two robes (one to wear and one to wash). I
forfeited my fairly slick haircut for… no hair; our heads were shaved. And
I was deprived of almost all opportunities to check myself out—the
ashram contained no mirrors except the one I would later be shown in
the storeroom. So we monks were prevented from obsessing over our
appearance, ate a simple diet that rarely varied, slept on thin mats laid on
the oor, and the only music we heard was the chants and bells that
punctuated our meditations and rituals. We didn’t watch movies or TV
shows, and we received limited news and email on shared desktop
computers in a communal area.
Nothing took the place of these distractions except space, stillness,
and silence. When we tune out the opinions, expectations, and
obligations of the world around us, we begin to hear ourselves. In
that silence I began to recognize the di erence between outside noise and
my own voice. I could clear away the dust of others to see my core beliefs.
I promised you I wouldn’t ask you to shave your head and don robes,
but how, in the modern world, can we give ourselves the space, silence,
and stillness to build awareness? Most of us don’t sit down and think
about our values. We don’t like to be alone with our own thoughts. Our
inclination is to avoid silence, to try to ll our heads, to keep moving. In
a series of studies, researchers from the University of Virginia and
Harvard asked participants to spend just six to fteen minutes alone in a
room with no smartphone, no writing instruments, and nothing to read.
The researchers then let them listen to music or use their phones.
Participants not only preferred their phones and music, many of them
even chose to zap themselves with an electric shock rather than be alone
with their thoughts. If you go to a networking event every day and have
to tell people what you do for a living, it’s hard to step away from that
reduction of who you are. If you watch Real Housewives every night, you
start to think that throwing glasses of wine in your friends’ faces is
routine behavior. When we ll up our lives and leave ourselves no room
to re ect, those distractions become our values by default.
We can’t address our thoughts and explore our minds when we’re
preoccupied. Nor does just sitting in your home teach you anything.
There are three ways I suggest you actively create space for re ection.
First, on a daily basis I recommend you sit down to re ect on how the
day went and what emotions you’re feeling. Second, once a month you
can approximate the change that I found at the ashram by going
someplace you’ve never been before to explore yourself in a di erent
environment. This can be anything from visiting a park or library you’ve
never been to before to taking a trip. Finally, get involved in something
that’s meaningful to you—a hobby, a charity, a political cause.
Another way to create space is to take stock of how we are lling the
space that we have and whether those choices re ect our true values.

AUDIT YOUR LIFE

No matter what you think your values are, your actions tell the real story.
What we do with our spare time shows what we value. For instance, you
might put spending time with your family at the top of your list of
values, but if you spend all your free time playing golf, your actions don’t
match your values, and you need to do some self-examination.

Time

First, let’s assess how you spend the time when you’re not sleeping or
working. Researchers have found that by the end of our lives, on average,
each of us will spend thirty-three years in bed (seven years of which will
be spent trying to sleep), a year and four months exercising, and more
than three years on vacation. If you’re a woman, you’ll spend 136 days
getting ready. If you’re a man this number drops to 46 days. These are
just estimates of course, but our daily choices add up.

TRY THIS: AUDIT YOUR TIME

Spend a week tracking how much time you devote to the following: family,
friends, health, and self. (Note that we’re leaving out sleeping, eating, and
working. Work, in all its forms, can sprawl without boundaries. If this is the case
for you, then set your own definition of when you are “officially” at work and
make “extra work” one of your categories.) The areas where you spend the most
time should match what you value the most. Say the amount of time that your
job requires exceeds how important it is to you. That’s a sign that you need to
look very closely at that decision. You’re deciding to spend time on something
that doesn’t feel important to you. What are the values behind that decision? Are
your earnings from your job ultimately serving your values?

Media
When you did your audit, no doubt a signi cant amount of your time
was spent reading or viewing media. Researchers estimate that, on
average, each of us will spend more than eleven years of our lives looking
at TV and social media! Perhaps your media choices feel casual, but time
re ects values.
There are many forms of media, but most of us aren’t overdoing it on
movies, TV, or magazines. It’s all about devices. Conveniently, your
iPhone will tell you exactly how you’re using it. Under Settings, look at
the screen time report for the last week and you’ll see how much time
you spend on social media, games, mail, and browsing the Web. If you
don’t like what you see, you can even set limits for yourself. On Android,
you can look at your battery usage under Settings, then, from the menu,
choose “Show full device usage.” Or you can download an app like Social
Fever or MyAddictometer.

Money

Like time, you can look at the money you spend to see the values by
which you live. Exclude necessities like home, dependents, car, bills,
food, and debt. Now look at your discretionary spending. What was
your biggest investment this month? Which discretionary areas are
costing you the most? Does your spending correspond to what matters
most to you? We often have an odd perspective on what’s “worth it” that
doesn’t quite make sense if you look at all your expenditures at once. I
was advising someone who complained that the family was overspending
on afterschool classes for the kids… until she realized that she spent more
on her shoes than on their music lessons.
Seeing posts on social media that compared spending and our
priorities got me thinking about how the ways we spend our time and
money reveal what we value.

A 60-minute TV show (“Flew by!”)

A 60-minute lunch with family (“Will it ever end!”)
Everyday co ee habit ($4/day, almost $1,500/year) (“Need it!”)
Fresh healthy food choices (an extra 1.50/day, about $550/year) (“Not
worth it!”)
15 minutes scrolling social media (“Me time!”)
15 minutes of meditation (“No time!”)
 It’s all in how you see it. When you look at a month of expenses,
think about whether discretionary purchases were long- or short-term
investments—a great dinner out or a dance class? Were they for
entertainment or enlightenment, for yourself or someone else? If you
have a gym membership, but only went once this month and spent more
on wine, you have some rethinking to do.
 CURATE YOUR VALUES
Doing a self-audit tells you the values that have crept into your life by
default. The next step is to decide what your values are and whether your
choices are in alignment with them. Contemplating monk values may
help you identify your own. Our teachers at the ashram explained that
there are higher and lower values. Higher values propel and elevate us
toward happiness, ful llment, and meaning. Lower values demote us
toward anxiety, depression, and su ering. According to the Gita, these
are the higher values and qualities: fearlessness, purity of mind, gratitude,
service and charity, acceptance, performing sacri ce, deep study,
austerity, straightforwardness, nonviolence, truthfulness, absence of
anger, renunciation, perspective, restraint from fault nding,
compassion toward all living beings, satisfaction, gentleness/kindness,
integrity, determination. (Notice that happiness and success are not
among these values. These are not values, they are rewards—the end
game—and we will address them further in Chapter Four.)
The six lower values are greed, lust, anger, ego, illusion, and envy. The
downside of the lower values is that they so readily take us over when we
give them space to do so, but the upside is that there are a lot fewer of
them. Or, as my teacher Gauranga Das reminded us, there are always
more ways to be pulled up than to be pulled down.
We can’t pull a set of values out of thin air and make sweeping
changes overnight. Instead, we want to let go of the false values that ll
the space in our lives. The ashram gave us monks the opportunity to
observe nature, and our teachers called our attention to the cycles of all
living things. Leaves sprout, transform, and drop. Reptiles, birds, and
mammals shed their skins, feathers, fur. Letting go is a big part of the
rhythm of nature, as is rebirth. We humans cling to stu —people, ideas,
material possessions, copies of Marie Kondo’s book—thinking it’s
unnatural to purge, but letting go is a direct route to space (literally) and
stillness. We separate ourselves—emotionally if not physically—from the
people and ideas who ll up our lives, and then we take time to observe
the natural inclinations that compel us.
Choices come along every day, and we can begin to weave values into
them. Whenever we make a choice, whether it’s as big as getting married
or as small as an argument with a friend, we are driven by our values,
whether they are high or low. If these choices work out well for us, then
our values are in alignment with our actions. But when things don’t
work out, it’s worth revisiting what drove the decision you made.

TRY THIS: PAST VALUES

Reflect on the three best and three worst choices you’ve ever made. Why did
you make them? What have you learned? How would you have done it
differently?

Take a close look at your answers to the Try This above—buried in them
are your values. Why did you make a choice? You may have been with the
right or wrong person for the same reason: because you value love. Or
maybe you moved across the country because you wanted a change. The
underlying value may be adventure. Now do the same thing for the
future. Look at your biggest goals to see if they’re driven by other people,
tradition, or media-driven ideas of how we should live.

TRY THIS: VALUE-DRIVEN DECISIONS

For the next week, whenever you spend money on a nonnecessity or make a
plan for how you will spend your free time, pause, and think: What is the value
behind this choice? It only takes a second, a flash of consideration. Ideally, this
momentary pause becomes instinctive, so that you are making conscious
choices about what matters to you and how much energy you devote to it.

FILTER OEOS, DON’T BLOCK THEM

Once you lter out the noise of opinions, expectations, and obligations
(OEOs), you will see the world through di erent eyes. The next step is
inviting the world back in. When I ask you to strip away outside
in uences, I don’t want you to tune out the whole world inde nitely.
Your monk mind can and must learn from other people. The challenge is
to do so consciously by asking ourselves simple questions: What qualities
do I look for/admire in family, friends, or colleagues? Are they trust,
con dence, determination, honesty? Whatever they may be, these
qualities are, in fact, our own values—the very landmarks we should use
to guide ourselves through our own lives.
When you are not alone, surround yourself with people who t well
with your values. It helps to nd a community that re ects who you
want to be. A community that looks like the future you want.
Remember how hard it was for me to start living like a monk during my
nal year of college? And now, it’s hard for me to live in London.
Surrounded by the people I grew up with and their ways of living, I’m
tempted to sleep in, gossip, judge others. A new culture helped me
rede ne myself, and another new culture helped me continue on my
path.
Every time you move homes or take a di erent job or embark on a
new relationship, you have a golden opportunity to reinvent yourself.
Multiple studies show that the way we relate to the world around us is
contagious. A twenty-year study of people living in a Massachusetts
town showed that both happiness and depression spread within social
circles. If a friend who lives within a mile of you becomes happier, then
the chance that you are also happy increases by 25 percent. The e ect
jumps higher with next-door neighbors.
Who you surround yourself with helps you stick to your values and
achieve your goals. You grow together. If you want to run a 2:45
marathon, you don’t train with people who run a 4:45. If you want to be
more spiritual, expand your practice with other spiritual people. If you
want to grow your business, join a local chamber of commerce or an
online group of business owners who are similarly driven toward that
kind of success. If you’re an overworked parent who wants to make your
kids your priority, cultivate relationships with other parents who
prioritize their kids, so you can exchange support and advice. Better yet,
where possible, cross groups: Foster relationships with family-oriented
spiritual entrepreneurs who run marathons. Okay, I’m kidding, yet in
today’s world where we have more ways to connect than ever, platforms
like LinkedIn and Meetup and tools like Facebook groups make it easier
than ever to nd your tribe. If you’re looking for love, look in places that
are value-driven, like service opportunities, tness or sports activities, a
series of lectures on a topic that interests you.
If you’re not sure where others t in relation to your values, ask
yourself a question: When I spend time with this person or group, do I
feel like I’m getting closer to or further away from who I want to be? The
answer could be clear-cut; it’s obvious if you’re spending four hours at a
time playing FIFA soccer on PS2 (not that I’ve ever done that) versus
engaging in meaningful interaction that improves the quality of your
life. Or the answer could be more vague—a feeling like irritability or
mental fuzziness after you spend time with them. It feels good to be
around people who are good for us; it doesn’t feel good to be around
people who don’t support us or bring out our bad habits.

TRY THIS: COMPANION AUDIT

Over the course of a week, make a list of the people with whom you spend the
most time. List the values that you share next to each person. Are you giving the
most time to the people who align most closely with your values?

Who you talk to, what you watch, what you do with your time: all of
these sources push values and beliefs. If you’re just going from one day to
the next without questioning your values, you’ll be swayed by what
everyone else—from your family to hordes of marketing professionals—
wants you to think. I remind myself of the moment in the storeroom all
the time. A thought comes into my mind and I ask myself, Does this fit
my chosen values or those that others have selected for me? Is this dust or is it
me?
When you give yourself space and stillness, you can clear the dust and
see yourself, not through others’ eyes, but from within. Identifying your
values and letting them guide you will help you lter external in uences.
In the next chapter these skills will help you lter out unwanted attitudes
and emotions.
 TWO

NEGATIVITY
The Evil King Goes Hungry

It is impossible to build one’s own happiness on the

unhappiness of others.
—Daisaku Ikeda

It is the summer after my third year of college. I have returned from

spending a month at the ashram and am now interning for a finance
firm. I’m at lunch with a couple of my colleagues—we’ve grabbed
sandwiches and brought them to the concrete courtyard in front of the
building, where low walls crisscross the hardscaping and young people in
suits eat speedy lunches, defrosting in the summer sun before returning to
the hyper-air-conditioned building. I am a monk out of water.
“Did you hear about Gabe?” one of my friends says in a loud whisper.
“The partners tore apart his presentation.”
“That dude,” another friend says, shaking his head. “He’s sinking fast.”
I flash back to a class Gauranga Das taught called “Cancers of the
Mind: Comparing, Complaining, Criticizing.” In the class, we talked
about negative thought habits, including gossip. One of the exercises we did
was keeping a tally of every criticism we spoke or thought. For each one, we
had to write down ten good things about the person.
It was hard. We were living together, in close quarters. Issues came up,
most of them petty. The average time for a monk’s shower was four
minutes. When there was a line at the showers, we would take bets on who
was taking too long. (This was the only betting we did. Because: monks.)
And though the snorers were relegated to their own room, sometimes new
practitioners emerged, and we rated their snores on a scale of motorcycles:
this monk’s a Vespa; that one’s a Harley-Davidson.
 I went through the exercise, dutifully noting every criticism I let slip.
Next to each, I jotted down ten positive qualities. The point of the exercise
wasn’t hard to figure out—every person was more good than bad—but
seeing it on the page made the ratio sink in. This helped me see my own
weaknesses differently. I tended to focus on my mistakes without balancing
them against my strengths. When I found myself being self-critical, I
reminded myself that I too had positive qualities. Putting my negative
qualities in context helped me recognize the same ratio in myself, that I am
more good than bad. We talked about this feedback loop in class: When we
criticize others, we can’t help but notice the bad in ourselves. But when we
look for the good in others, we start to see the best in ourselves too.
The guy sitting next to me on the wall nudges me out of my reverie. “So
you think he’ll last?”
I’ve lost track of what we’re talking about. “Who?” I ask.
“Gabe—he shouldn’t have been hired in the first place, right?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I say.

Once I’d spent time in the ashram, I became very sensitive to gossip. I’d
gotten used to conversations with primarily positive energy. When I rst
arrived back in the world, I was awkwardly silent. I didn’t want to be the
morality police, but I also didn’t want to participate. As the Buddha
advised, “Do not give your attention to what others do or fail to do; give
it to what you do or fail to do.” I quickly gured out to say things like
“Oh, I’m not sure…” or “I haven’t heard anything.” Then I’d shift the
conversation to something more positive. “Did you hear they’ve asked
Max to stay on? I’m psyched for him.” Gossip has value in some
situations: It helps society regulate what is acceptable behavior, and we
often use it to see if others agree with our judgments about other
people’s behavior and therefore our values. But there are kinder ways to
negotiate these questions. More often, we use gossip to put others down,
which can make us feel superior to them and/or bolster our status in a
group.
Some of my friends and colleagues stopped trying to gossip with me
altogether; we had real conversations instead. Some trusted me more,
realizing that since I didn’t gossip with them, I wouldn’t gossip about
them. If there were people who thought I was just plain boring, well, I
have nothing bad to say about them.

NEGATIVITY IS EVERYWHERE
You wake up. Your hair looks terrible. Your partner complains that
you’re out of co ee. On the way to work some driver who’s texting
makes you miss the light. The news on the radio is worse than yesterday.
Your coworker whispers to you that Candace is pretending to be sick
again.… Every day we are assaulted by negativity. No wonder we can’t
help but dish it out as well as receive it. We report the aches and pains of
the day rather than the small joys. We compare ourselves to our
neighbors, complain about our partners, say things about our friends
behind their backs that we would never say to their faces, criticize people
on social media, argue, deceive, even explode into anger.
This negative chatter even takes place throughout what we might
consider to be a “good day,” and it’s not part of anyone’s plan. In my
experience, nobody wakes up and thinks, How can I be mean to or about
other people today? or How can I make myself feel better by making others
feel worse today? Still, negativity often comes from within. We have three
core emotional needs, which I like to think of as peace, love, and
understanding (thanks Nick Lowe and Elvis Costello). Negativity—in
conversation, emotions, and actions—often springs from a threat to one
of the three needs: a fear that bad things are going to happen (loss of
peace), a fear of not being loved (loss of love), or a fear of being
disrespected (loss of understanding). From these fears stem all sorts of
other emotions—feeling overwhelmed, insecure, hurt, competitive,
needy, and so on. These negative feelings spring out of us as complaints,
comparisons, and criticisms and other negative behaviors. Think of the
trolls who dive onto social media, dumping ill will on their targets.
Perhaps their fear is that they aren’t respected, and they turn to trolling
to feel signi cant. Or perhaps their political beliefs are generating the fear
that their world is unsafe. (Or maybe they’re just trying to build a
following—fear certainly doesn’t motivate every troll in the world.)
For another example, we all have friends who turn a catch-up phone
call into an interminable vent session describing their job, their partner,
their family—what’s wrong, what’s unfair, what’s never going to change.
For these people, nothing ever seems to go right. This person may be
expressing their fear that bad things are going to happen—their core
need for peace and security is threatened.
Bad things do happen. In our lives, we’re all victims at some point—
whether we’re being racially pro led or being cut o in tra c. But if we
adopt a victim mentality, we’re more likely to take on a sense of
entitlement and to behave sel shly. Stanford psychologists took 104
subjects and assigned them to one of two groups—one told to write a
short essay about a time they were bored, and the other to write about a
time when life seemed unfair or when they felt “wronged or slighted by
someone.” Afterward, the participants were asked if they wanted to help
the researchers with an easy task. Those who’d written about a time
they’d been wronged were 26 percent less likely to help the researchers.
In a similar study, participants who identi ed with a victim mindset were
not only more likely to express sel sh attitudes afterward, they were also
more likely to leave behind trash and even take the experimenters’ pens!

NEGATIVITY IS CONTAGIOUS
We’re social creatures who get most of what we want in life—peace, love,
and understanding—from the group we gather around us. Our brains
adjust automatically to both harmony and disagreement. We’ve already
talked about how we unconsciously try to please others. Well, we also
want to agree with others. Research has proven that most humans value
social conformity so much that they’ll change their own responses—even
their perceptions—to align with the group, even when the group is
blatantly wrong.
In the 1950s Solomon Asch gathered groups of college students and
told them they were doing a vision test. The catch was that in each
group, everyone was an actor except one person: the subject of the test.
Asch showed participants an image of a “target” line rst, then of a
series of three lines: one shorter, one longer, and one that was clearly the
same length as the target line. The students were asked which line
matched the length of the target line. Sometimes the actors gave correct
answers, and sometimes they purposefully gave incorrect answers. In
each case, the real study participant answered last. The correct answer
should have been obvious. But, in uenced by the actors, about 75
percent of the subjects followed the crowd to give an incorrect response
at least once. This phenomenon has been called groupthink bias.
We’re wired to conform. Your brain would rather not deal with
con ict and debate. It would much prefer to lounge in the comfort of
like-mindedness. That’s not a bad thing if we’re surrounded by, say,
monks. But if we’re surrounded by gossip, con ict, and negativity, we
start to see the world in those terms, just like the people who went
against their own eyes in Asch’s line experiment.
The instinct for agreement has a huge impact on our lives. It is one of
the reasons why, in a culture of complaint, we join the fray.
And the more negativity that surrounds us, the more negative we
become. We think that complaining will help us process our anger, but
research con rms that even people who report feeling better after
venting are still more aggressive post-gripe than people who did not
engage in venting.
 At the Bhaktivedanta Manor, the temple’s London outpost, there was
one monk who drove me crazy. If I asked him how he was in the
morning, he’d tell me about how badly he’d slept and whose fault it was.
He complained that the food was bad, and yet there was never enough. It
was relentless verbal diarrhea, so negative that I never wanted to be
around him.
Then I found myself complaining about him to the other monks.
And so I became exactly what I was criticizing. Complaining is
contagious, and he’d passed it on to me.
Studies show that negativity like mine can increase aggression toward
random, uninvolved people, and that the more negative your attitude,
the more likely you are to have a negative attitude in the future. Studies
also show that long-term stress, like that generated by complaining,
actually shrinks your hippocampus—that’s the region of your brain that
a ects reasoning and memory. Cortisol, the same stress hormone that
takes a toll on the hippocampus, also impairs your immune system (and
has loads of other harmful e ects). I’m not blaming every illness on
negativity, but if remaining positive can prevent even one of my winter
colds, I’m all for it.

TYPES OF NEGATIVE PEOPLE

Negative behaviors surround us so constantly that we grow accustomed
to them. Think about whether you have any of the following in your life:

Complainers, like the friend on the phone, who complain

endlessly without looking for solutions. Life is a problem that will
be hard if not impossible to solve.
Cancellers, who take a compliment and spin it: “You look good
today” becomes “You mean I looked bad yesterday?”
Casualties, who think the world is against them and blame their
problems on others.
Critics, who judge others for either having a di erent opinion or
not having one, for any choices they’ve made that are di erent
from what the critic would have done.
Commanders, who realize their own limits but pressure others to
succeed. They’ll say, “You never have time for me,” even though
they’re busy as well.
Competitors, who compare themselves to others, controlling and
manipulating to make themselves or their choices look better.
They are in so much pain that they want to bring others down.
Often we have to play down our successes around these people
because we know they can’t appreciate them.
Controllers, who monitor and try to direct how their friends or
partners spend time, and with whom, and what choices they
make.

You can have fun with this list, seeing if you can think of someone to
t each type. But the real point of it is to help you notice and frame these
behaviors when they come at you. If you put everyone into the same box
of negativity (“They’re so annoying!”), you aren’t any closer to deciding
how to manage each relationship.
On the day I moved to the ashram with six other new monks traveling
from England, they told us to think of our new home as a hospital,
where we were all patients. Becoming a monk, detaching from material
life, was not seen as an achievement in and of itself. It simply meant that
we were ready to be admitted to a place of healing where we could work
to overcome the illnesses of the soul that infected us and weakened us.
In a hospital, as we all know, even the doctors get sick. Nobody is
immune. The senior monks reminded us that everyone had di erent
sicknesses, everyone was still learning, and that, just as we would not
judge anyone else’s health problems, we shouldn’t judge someone who
sinned di erently. Gauranga Das repeated this advice in brief
metaphorical form that we often used to remind ourselves not to harbor
negative thoughts toward others: Don’t judge someone with a different
disease. Don’t expect anyone to be perfect. Don’t think you are perfect.
Instead of judging negative behavior, we try to neutralize the charge,
or even reverse it to positive. Once you recognize a complainer isn’t
looking for solutions, you realize you don’t have to provide them. If a
commander says, “You’re too busy for me,” you can say, “Should we nd
a time that works for both of us?”

REVERSE EXTERNAL NEGATIVITY

The categories above help us step away from the negative person in order
to make clearheaded decisions about our role in the situation. The monk
way is to dig to the root, diagnose, and clarify a situation so you can
explain it simply to yourself. Let’s use this approach to de ne strategies
for dealing with negative people.

Become an Objective Observer

Monks lead with awareness. We approach negativity—any type of

con ict, really—by taking a step back to remove ourselves from the
emotional charge of the moment. Catholic monk Father Thomas
Keating said, “There is no commandment that says we have to be upset
by the way other people treat us. The reason we are upset is because we
have an emotional program that says, ‘If someone is nasty to me, I
cannot be happy or feel good about myself.’… Instead of reacting
compulsively and retaliating, we could enjoy our freedom as human
beings and refuse to be upset.” We step away, not literally but
emotionally, and look at the situation as if we are not in the middle of it.
We will talk more about this distance, which is called detachment, in the
next chapter. For now, I’ll say that it helps us nd understanding
without judgment. Negativity is a trait, not someone’s identity. A
person’s true nature can be obscured by clouds, but, like the sun, it is
always there. And clouds can overcome any of us. We have to understand
this when we deal with people who exude negative energy. Just like we
wouldn’t want someone to judge us by our worst moments, we must be
careful not to do that to others. When someone hurts you, it’s because
they’re hurt. Their hurt is simply spilling over. They need help. And as
the Dalai Lama says, “If you can, help others; if you cannot do that, at
least do not harm them.”

Back Slowly Away

From a position of understanding, we are better equipped to address

negative energy. The simplest response is to back slowly away. Just as in
the last chapter we let go of the in uences that interfered with our
values, we want to cleanse ourselves of the negative attitudes that cloud
our outlook. In The Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching, Thich Nhat Hanh,
a Buddhist monk who has been called the Father of Mindfulness, writes,
“Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for
happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything—anger, anxiety, or
possessions—we cannot be free.” I encourage you to purge or avoid
physical triggers of negative thoughts and feelings, like that sweatshirt
your ex gave you or the co ee shop where you always run into a former
friend. If you don’t let go physically, you won’t let go emotionally.
But when a family member, a friend, or a colleague is involved,
distancing ourselves is often not an option or not the rst response we
want to give. We need to use other strategies.

The 25/75 Principle

For every negative person in your life, have three uplifting people. I try to
surround myself with people who are better than I am in some way:
happier, more spiritual. In life, as in sports, being around better players
pushes you to grow. I don’t mean for you to take this so literally that you
label each of your friends either negative or uplifting, but aim for the
feeling that at least 75 percent of your time is spent with people who
inspire you rather than bring you down. Do your part in making the
friendship an uplifting exchange. Don’t just spend time with the people
you love—grow with them. Take a class, read a book, do a workshop.
Sangha is the Sanskrit word for community, and it suggests a refuge
where people serve and inspire each other.

Allocate Time

Another way to reduce negativity if you can’t remove it is to regulate

how much time you allow a person to occupy based on their energy.
Some challenges we face only because we allow them to challenge us.
There might be some people you can only tolerate for an hour a month,
some for a day, some for a week. Maybe you even know a one-minute
person. Consider how much time is best for you to spend with them,
and don’t exceed it.

Don’t Be a Savior

If all someone needs is an ear, you can listen without exerting much
energy. If we try to be problem-solvers, then we become frustrated when
people don’t take our brilliant advice. The desire to save others is ego-
driven. Don’t let your own needs shape your response. In Sayings of the
Fathers, a compilation of teachings and maxims from Jewish Rabbinic
tradition, it is advised, “Don’t count the teeth in someone else’s mouth.”
Similarly, don’t attempt to x a problem unless you have the necessary
skills. Think of your friend as a person who is drowning. If you are an
excellent swimmer, a trained lifeguard, then you have the strength and
wherewithal to help a swimmer in trouble. Similarly, if you have the time
and mind space to help another person, go for it. But if you’re only a fair
swimmer and you try to save a drowning person, they are likely to pull
you down with them. Instead, you call for the lifeguard. Similarly, if you
don’t have the energy and experience to help a friend, you can introduce
them to people or ideas that might help them. Maybe someone else is
their rescuer.

REVERSE INTERNAL NEGATIVITY

Working from the outside in is the natural way of decluttering. Once we
recognize and begin to neutralize the external negativities, we become
better able to see our own negative tendencies and begin to reverse them.
Sometimes we deny responsibility for the negativity that we ourselves
put out in the world, but negativity doesn’t always come from other
people and it isn’t always spoken aloud. Envy, complaint, anger—it’s
easier to blame those around us for a culture of negativity, but purifying
our own thoughts will protect us from the in uence of others.
In the ashram our aspirations for purity were so high that our
“competition” came in the form of renunciation (“I eat less than that
monk”; “I meditated longer than everyone else”). But a monk has to
laugh at himself if the last thought he has at the end of the meditation is
“Look at me! I outlasted them all!” If that’s where he arrived, then what
was the point of the meditation? In The Monastic Way, a compilation of
quotes edited by Hannah Ward and Jennifer Wild, Sister Christine
Vladimiro says, “[In a monastery], the only competition allowed is to
outstrip each other in showing love and respect.”
Competition breeds envy. In the Mahabharata, an evil warrior envies
another warrior and wants him to lose all he has. The evil warrior hides a
burning block of coal in his robes, planning to hurl it at the object of his
envy. Instead, it catches re and the evil warrior himself is burned. His
envy makes him his own enemy.
Envy’s catty cousin is Schadenfreude, which means taking pleasure in
the su ering of others. When we derive joy from other people’s failures,
we’re building our houses and pride on the rocky foundations of
someone else’s imperfection or bad luck. That is not steady ground. In
fact, when we nd ourselves judging others, we should take note. It’s a
signal that our minds are tricking us into thinking we’re moving forward
when in truth we’re stuck. If I sold more apples than you did yesterday,
but you sold more today, this says nothing about whether I’m improving
as an apple seller. The more we de ne ourselves in relation to the
people around us, the more lost we are.
We may never completely purge ourselves of envy, jealousy, greed,
lust, anger, pride, and illusion, but that doesn’t mean we should ever
stop trying. In Sanskrit, the word anartha generally means “things not
wanted,” and to practice anartha-nivritti is to remove that which is
unwanted. We think freedom means being able to say whatever we want.
We think freedom means that we can pursue all our desires. Real
freedom is letting go of things not wanted, the unchecked desires that
lead us to unwanted ends.
Letting go doesn’t mean wiping away negative thoughts, feelings, and
ideas completely. The truth is that these thoughts will always arise—it is
what we do with them that makes the di erence. The neighbor’s barking
dog is an annoyance. It will always interrupt you. The question is how
you guide that response. The key to real freedom is self-awareness.
In your evaluation of your own negativity, keep in mind that even
small actions have consequences. Even when we become more aware of
others’ negativity and say, “She’s always complaining,” we ourselves are
being negative. At the ashram, we slept under mosquito nets. Every
night, we’d close our nets and use ashlights to con rm that they were
clear of bugs. One morning, I woke up to discover that a single mosquito
had been in my net and I had at least ten bites. I thought of something
the Dalai Lama said, “If you think you are too small to make a di erence,
try sleeping with a mosquito.” Petty, negative thoughts and words are
like mosquitos: Even the smallest ones can rob us of our peace.

Spot, Stop, Swap

Most of us don’t register our negative thoughts, much as I didn’t register

that sole mosquito. To purify our thoughts, monks talk about the
process of awareness, addressing, and amending. I like to remember this
as spot, stop, swap. First, we become aware of a feeling or issue—we spot
it. Then we pause to address what the feeling is and where it comes from
—we stop to consider it. And last, we amend our behavior—we swap in a
new way of processing the moment. SPOT, STOP, SWAP.
Spot

Becoming aware of negativity means learning to spot the toxic impulses

around you. To help us confront our own negativity, our monk teachers
told us to try not to complain, compare, or criticize for a week, and keep
a tally of how many times we failed. The goal was to see the daily tally
decrease. The more aware we became of these tendencies, the more we
might free ourselves from them.
Listing your negative thoughts and comments will help you
contemplate their origins. Are you judging a friend’s appearance, and are
you equally hard on your own? Are you muttering about work without
considering your own contribution? Are you reporting on a friend’s
illness to call attention to your own compassion, or are you hoping to
solicit more support for that friend?

TRY THIS: AUDIT YOUR NEGATIVE COMMENTS.

Keep a tally of the negative remarks you make over the course of a week. See if
you can make your daily number go down. The goal is zero.

Sometimes instead of reacting negatively to what is, we negatively

anticipate what might be. This is suspicion. There’s a parable about an
evil king who went to meet a good king. When invited to stay for dinner,
the evil king asked for his plate to be switched with the good king’s plate.
When the good king asked why, the evil king replied, “You may have
poisoned this food.”
The good king laughed.
That made the evil king even more nervous, and he switched the
plates again, thinking maybe he was being double-blu ed. The good
king just shook his head and took a bite of the food in front of him. The
evil king didn’t eat that night.
What we judge or envy or suspect in someone else can guide us to the
darkness we have within ourselves. The evil king projects his own
dishonor onto the good king. In the same way our envy or impatience or
suspicion with someone else tells us something about ourselves. Negative
projections and suspicions re ect our own insecurities and get in our
way. If you decide your boss is against you, it can a ect you emotionally
—you might be so discouraged that you don’t perform well at work—or
practically—you won’t ask for the raise you deserve. Either way, like the
evil king, you’re the one who will go hungry!

Stop

When you better understand the roots of your negativity, the next step is
to address it. Silence your negativity to make room for thoughts and
actions that add to your life instead of taking away from it. Start with
your breath. When we’re stressed, we hold our breath or clench our jaws.
We slump in defeat or tense our shoulders. Throughout the day, observe
your physical presence. Is your jaw tight? Is your brow furrowed? These
are signs that we need to remember to breathe, to loosen up physically
and emotionally.
The Bhagavad Gita refers to the austerity of speech, saying that we
should only speak words that are truthful, bene cial to all, pleasing, and
that don’t agitate the minds of others. The Vaca Sutta, from early
Buddhist scriptures, o ers similar wisdom, de ning a well-spoken
statement as one that is “spoken at the right time. It is spoken in truth. It
is spoken a ectionately. It is spoken bene cially. It is spoken with a mind
of good-will.”
Remember, saying whatever we want, whenever we want,
however we want, is not freedom. Real freedom is not feeling the
need to say these things.
When we limit our negative speech, we may nd that we have a lot
less to say. We might even feel inhibited. Nobody loves an awkward
silence, but it’s worth it to free ourselves from negativity. Criticizing
someone else’s work ethic doesn’t make you work harder. Comparing
your marriage to someone else’s doesn’t make your marriage better
unless you do so thoughtfully and productively. Judgment creates an
illusion: that if you see well enough to judge, then you must be better,
that if someone else is failing, then you must be moving forward. In fact,
it is careful, thoughtful observations that move us forward.
 Stopping doesn’t mean simply shunning the negative instinct. Get
closer to it. Australian community worker Neil Barringham said, “The
grass is greener where you water it.” Notice what’s arousing your
negativity, over there on your frenemy’s side of the fence. Do they seem
to have more time, a better job, a more active social life? Because in the
third step, swapping, you’ll want to look for seeds of the same on your
turf and cultivate them. For example, take your envy of someone else’s
social whirlwind and in it nd the inspiration to host a party, or get back
in touch with old friends, or organize an after-work get-together. It is
important to nd our signi cance not from thinking other people have it
better but from being the person we want to be.

Swap

After spotting and stopping the negativity in your heart, mind, and
speech, you can begin to amend it. Most of us monks were unable to
completely avoid complaining, comparing, and criticizing—and you
can’t expect you’ll be completely cured of that habit either—but
researchers have found that happy people tend to complain… wait for it…
mindfully. While thoughtlessly venting complaints makes your day
worse, it’s been shown that writing in a journal about upsetting events,
giving attention to your thoughts and emotions, can foster growth and
healing, not only mentally, but also physically.
We can be mindful of our negativity by being speci c. When
someone asks how we are, we usually answer, “good,” “okay,” “ ne,” or
“bad.” Sometimes this is because we know a truthful, detailed answer is
not expected or wanted, but we tend to be equally vague when we
complain. We might say we’re angry or sad when we’re o ended or
disappointed. Instead, we can better manage our feelings by choosing
our words carefully. Instead of describing ourselves as feeling angry, sad,
anxious, hurt, embarrassed, and happy, the Harvard Business Review lists
nine more speci c words that we could use for each one of these
emotions. Instead of being angry, we might better describe ourselves as
annoyed, defensive, or spiteful. Monks are considered quiet because they
are trained to choose their words so carefully that it takes some time. We
choose words carefully and use them with purpose.
So much is lost in bad communication. For example, instead of
complaining to a friend, who can’t do anything about it, that your
partner always comes home late, communicate directly and mindfully
with your partner. You might say, “I appreciate that you work hard and
have a lot to balance. When you come home later than you promised, it
drives me crazy. You could support me by texting me as soon as you
know you’re running late.” When our complaints are understood—by
ourselves and others—they can be more productive.
In addition to making our negativity more productive, we can also
deliberately swap in positivity. One way to do this, as I mentioned, is to
use our negativity—like envy—to guide us to what we want. But we can
also swap in new feelings. In English, we have the words “empathy” and
“compassion” to express our ability to feel the pain that others su er, but
we don’t have a word for experiencing vicarious joy—joy on behalf of
other people. Perhaps this is a sign that we all need to work on it.
Mudita is the principle of taking sympathetic or unsel sh joy in
the good fortune of others.
If I only nd joy in my own successes, I’m limiting my joy. But if I can
take pleasure in the successes of my friends and family—ten, twenty, fty
people!—I get to experience fty times the happiness and joy. Who
doesn’t want that?
The material world has convinced us that there are only a limited
number of colleges worth attending, a limited number of good jobs
available, a limited number of people who get lucky. In such a nite
world, there’s only so much success and happiness to go around, and
whenever other people experience them, your chances of doing so
decrease. But monks believe that when it comes to happiness and joy,
there is always a seat with your name on it. In other words, you don’t
need to worry about someone taking your place. In the theater of
happiness, there is no limit. Everyone who wants to partake in mudita
can watch the show. With unlimited seats, there is no fear of missing out.
Radhanath Swami is my spiritual teacher and the author of several
books, including The Journey Home. I asked him how to stay peaceful
and be a positive force in a world where there is so much negativity. He
said, “There is toxicity everywhere around us. In the environment, in the
political atmosphere, but the origin is in people’s hearts. Unless we clean
the ecology of our own heart and inspire others to do the same, we will
be an instrument of polluting the environment. But if we create purity
in our own heart, then we can contribute great purity to the world
around us.”

TRY THIS: REVERSE ENVY

Make a list of five people you care about, but also feel competitive with. Come
up with at least one reason that you’re envious of each one: something they’ve
achieved, something they’re better at, something that’s gone well for them. Did
that achievement actually take anything away from you? Now think about how it
benefitted your friend. Visualize everything good that has come to them from
this achievement. Would you want to take any of these things away if you could,
even knowing that they would not come to you? If so, this envy is robbing you of
joy. Envy is more destructive to you than whatever your friend has
accomplished. Spend your energy transforming it.

K AMĀ: AMENDING ANGER

We’ve talked about strategies to manage and minimize the daily
negativity in your life. But nuisances like complaining, comparing, and
gossip can feel manageable next to bigger negative emotions like pain and
anger. We all harbor anger in some form: anger from the past, or anger at
people who continue to play a big role in our lives. Anger at misfortune.
Anger at the living and the dead. Anger turned inward.
When we are deeply wounded, anger is often part of the response.
Anger is a great, aming ball of negative emotion, and when we cannot
let it go, no matter how we try, the anger takes on a life of its own. The
toll is enormous. I want to talk speci cally about how to deal with anger
we feel toward other people.
Kṣamā is Sanskrit for forgiveness. It suggests that you bring patience
and forbearance to your dealings with others. Sometimes we have been
wounded so deeply that we can’t imagine how we might forgive the
person who hurt us. But, contrary to what most of us believe, forgiveness
is primarily an action we take within ourselves. Sometimes it’s better
(and safer and healthier) not to have direct contact with the person at all;
other times, the person who hurt us is no longer around to be forgiven
directly. But those factors don’t impede forgiveness because it is, rst and
foremost, internal. It frees you from anger.
One of my clients told me, “I had to reach back to my childhood to
pinpoint why I felt unloved and unworthy. My paternal grandmother set
the tone for this feeling. I realized she treated me di erently because she
didn’t like my mother. [I had to] forgive her even though she passed on
already. I realized I was always worthy and always lovable. She was
broken, not I.”
The Bhagavad Gita describes three gunas, or modes of life: tamas,
rajas, and sattva, which represent “ignorance,” “impulsivity,” and
“goodness.” I have found that these three modes can be applied to any
activity—for example, when you pull back from a con ict and look for
understanding, it’s very useful to try to shift from rajas—impulsivity
and passion—to sattva—goodness, positivity, and peace. These modes
are the foundation of my approach to forgiveness.

TRANSFORMATIONAL FORGIVENESS
Before we nd our way to forgiveness, we are stuck in anger. We may
even want revenge, to return the pain that a person has in icted on us.
An eye for an eye. Revenge is the mode of ignorance—it’s often said that
you can’t x yourself by breaking someone else. Monks don’t hinge their
choices and feelings on others’ behaviors. You believe revenge will make
you feel better because of how the other person will react. But when you
make your vindictive play and the person doesn’t have the response you
fantasized about—guess what? You only feel more pain. Revenge
back res.
When you rise above revenge, you can begin the process of
forgiveness. People tend to think in binary terms: You either forgive
someone, or you don’t forgive someone, but (as I will suggest more than
once in this book) there are often multiple levels. These levels give us
leeway to be where we are, to progress in our own time, and to climb
only as far as we can. On the scale of forgiveness, the bottom (though it is
higher than revenge) is zero forgiveness. “I am not going to forgive that
person, no matter what. I don’t want to hurt them, but I’m never going
to forgive them.” On this step we are still stuck in anger, and there is no
resolution. As you might imagine, this is an uncomfortable place to stay.
 The next step is conditional forgiveness: If they apologize, then I’ll
apologize. If they promise never to do it again, I’ll forgive them. This
transactional forgiveness comes from the mode of impulse—driven by
the need to feed your own emotions. Research at Luther College shows
that forgiving appears to be easier when we get (or give) an apology, but I
don’t want us to focus on conditional forgiveness. I want you to rise
higher.
The next step is something called transformational forgiveness. This is
forgiveness in the mode of goodness. In transformational forgiveness, we
nd the strength and calmness to forgive without expecting an apology
or anything else in return.
There is one level higher on the forgiveness ladder: unconditional
forgiveness. This is the level of forgiveness that a parent often has for a
child. No matter what that child does or will do, the parent has already
forgiven them. The good news is, I’m not suggesting you aim for that.
What I want you to achieve is transformational forgiveness.

PEACE OF MIND
Forgiveness has been shown to bring peace to our minds. Forgiveness
actually conserves energy. Transformational forgiveness is linked to a slew
of health improvements including: fewer medications taken, better sleep
quality, and reduced somatic symptoms including back pain, headache,
nausea, and fatigue. Forgiveness eases stress, because we no longer recycle
the angry thoughts, both conscious and subconscious, that stressed us
out in the rst place.
 In fact, science shows that in close relationships, there’s less emotional
tension between partners when they’re able to forgive each other, and
that promotes physical well-being. In a study published in a 2011 edition
of the journal Personal Relationships, sixty-eight married couples agreed
to have an eight-minute talk about a recent incident where one spouse
“broke the rules” of the marriage. The couples then separately watched
replays of the interviews and researchers measured their blood pressure.
In couples where the “victim” was able to forgive their spouse, both
partners’ blood pressure decreased. It just goes to show that forgiveness is
good for everyone.
Giving and receiving forgiveness both have health bene ts. When we
make forgiveness a regular part of our spiritual practice, we start to notice
all of our relationships blossoming. We’re no longer holding grudges.
There’s less drama to deal with.

TRY THIS: ASK FOR AND RECEIVE FORGIVENESS

In this exercise we try to untangle the knot of pain and/or anger created by
conflict. Even if the relationship is not one you want to salvage or have the
option of rebuilding, this exercise will help you let go of anger and find peace.
Before you start, visualize yourself in the other person’s shoes. Acknowledge
their pain and understand that it is why they are causing you pain.
Then, write a letter of forgiveness.

1. List all the ways you think the other person did you wrong. Forgiving another
person honestly and specifically goes a long way toward healing the
relationship. Start each item with “I forgive you for…” Keep going until you
get everything out. We’re not sending this letter, so you can repeat yourself if
the same thing keeps coming to mind. Write everything you wanted to say
but never had a chance. You don’t have to feel forgiveness. Yet. When you
write it down, what you’re doing is beginning to understand the pain more
specifically so that you can slowly let it go.
2. Acknowledge your own shortcomings. What was your role, if any, in the
situation or conflict? List the ways you feel you did wrong, starting each with
the phrase “Please forgive me for…” Remember you can’t undo the past, but
taking responsibility for your role will help you understand and let go of your
anger toward yourself and the other person.
3. When you are done with this letter, record yourself reading it. (Most phones
can do this.) Play it back, putting yourself in the position of the objective
observer. Remember that the pain inflicted on you isn’t yours. It’s the other
person’s pain. When you squeeze an orange, you get orange juice. When you
squeeze someone full of pain, pain comes out. Instead of absorbing it or
giving it back, if you forgive, you help diffuse the pain.
 FORGIVENESS IS A TWO-WAY STREET
Forgiveness has to ow in both directions. None of us is perfect, and
though there will be situations where you are blameless, there are also
times when there are missteps on both sides of a con ict. When you
cause pain and others cause you pain, it’s as if your hearts get twisted
together into an uncomfortable knot. When we forgive, we start to
separate our pain from theirs and to heal ourselves emotionally. But
when we ask for forgiveness at the same time, we untwist together. This
is a bit trickier, because we’re much more comfortable nding fault in
other people and then forgiving it. We’re not used to admitting fault and
taking responsibility for what we create in our lives.

FORGIVING OURSELVES
Sometimes, when we feel shame or guilt for what we’ve done in the past,
it’s because those actions no longer re ect our values. Now, when we
look at our former selves, we don’t relate to their decisions. This is
actually good news—the reason we’re hurting over our past is because
we’ve made progress. We did the best we could then, but we can do
better now. What could be better than moving forward? We’re already
winning. We’re already crushing it.

TRY THIS: FORGIVE YOURSELF

The exercise above can also be used to forgive yourself. Starting each line with
“I forgive myself for… ,” list the reasons you feel angry at or disappointed in
yourself. Then read it out loud or record it and play it for yourself. Bring out the
objective observer, and find understanding for yourself, letting go of the pain.

When we wrap our heads around the fact that we can’t undo the past,
we begin to accept our own imperfections and mistakes, forgive
ourselves, and, in doing so, open ourselves up to the emotional healing
we all yearn for.

ELEVATE
The pinnacle of forgiveness, true sattva, is to wish the person who
caused you pain well.
“I became a Buddhist because I hated my husband.” That’s not
something you hear every day, but Buddhist nun and author of When
Things Fall Apart Pema Chödrön is only kind of kidding. After her
divorce, she went into a negativity spiral where she entertained revenge
fantasies because of her husband’s a air. Eventually, she came across the
writings of Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche, a meditation master who
founded Naropa University in Boulder, Colorado. In reading his work,
she realized that the relationship had become like a malignant cell—
instead of dying o , her anger and blame were causing the negativity of
the breakup to spread. Once Chödrön allowed herself to “become more
like a river than a rock,” she was able to forgive her husband and move
forward. She now refers to her ex-husband as one of her greatest teachers.
If you want the negativity between yourself and another person to
dissipate, you have to hope that you both heal. You don’t have to tell
them directly, but send the energy of well-wishing out into the air. This
is when you feel most free and at peace—because you’re truly able to let
go.

Negativity is a natural part of life. We tease and provoke, express

vulnerability, connect over shared values and fears. It’s hard to nd a
comedy show that isn’t based on negative observations. But there is a line
between negativity that helps us navigate life and negativity that puts
more pain out into the world. You might talk about the problems
someone’s child is having with addiction because you are scared that it
will happen to your family and hoping to avoid it. But you also might
gossip about the same issue to judge the family and feel better about your
own. Ellen DeGeneres sees the line clearly—in an interview with Parade
magazine she said that she doesn’t think it’s funny to make fun of
people. “The world is lled with negativity. I want people to watch me
and think, ‘I feel good, and I’m going to make somebody else feel good
today.’ ” This is the spirit in which monks have fun—we are playful and
laugh easily. When new monks arrived, they often took themselves too
seriously (I know I did), and the senior monks would have a twinkle in
their eyes when they said, “Steady now, don’t waste all your energy on
your rst day.” Whenever the priest brought out the most special sacred
food—which was sweeter and tastier than the simple food we ordinarily
ate—the younger monks would joke-wrestle to get to it rst. And if
someone fell asleep and snored during meditation, we would all glance at
one another, not even trying to hide our distraction.
We needn’t reduce our thoughts and words to 100 percent sunshine
and positivity. But we should challenge ourselves to dig to the root of
negativity, to understand its origins in ourselves and those around us,
and to be mindful and deliberate in how we manage the energy it
absorbs. We begin to let go through recognition and forgiveness. We
spot, stop, and swap—observe, re ect, and develop new behaviors to
replace the negativity in our lives, always striving toward self-discipline
and bliss. When you stop feeling so curious about others’ misfortunes
and instead take pleasure in their successes, you’re healing.
The less time you xate on everyone else, the more time you
have to focus on yourself.

Negativity, as we’ve discussed, often arises from fear. Next, we will

explore fear itself, how it gets in our way, and how we can make it a
productive part of life.
 THREE

FEAR
Welcome to Hotel Earth

Fear does not prevent death. It prevents life.

—Buddha

The epic battle of Mahabharata is about to begin. The air is thick

with anticipation: Thousands of warriors finger the hilts of their
swords as their horses snort and paw at the ground. But our hero,
Arjuna, is terrified. He has family and friends on either side of this
battle, and many of them are about to die. Arjuna, among the
fiercest fighters of the land, drops his bow.
The Bhagavad Gita opens on a battle eld with a warrior’s
terror. Arjuna is the most talented archer in the land, yet fear has
caused him to totally lose connection with his abilities. The same
thing happens to each of us. We have so much to o er the world,
but fear and anxiety disconnect us from our abilities. This is
because growing up we were taught, directly or indirectly, that fear
is negative. “Don’t be scared,” our parents told us. “Scaredy-cat,”
our friends teased. Fear was an embarrassing, humiliating reaction
to be ignored or hidden. But fear has a ip side, which Tom Hanks
alluded to in his commencement address at Yale University. “Fear,”
he told the graduates, “will get the worst of the best of us.”
The truth is, we’ll never live entirely without fear and anxiety.
We’ll never be able to x our economic, social, and political
climates to entirely eliminate con ict and uncertainty, not to
mention our everyday interpersonal challenges. And that’s okay,
because fear isn’t bad; it’s simply a warning ag—your mind
saying “This doesn’t look good! Something might go wrong!” It’s
what we do with that signal that matters. We can use our fear of
the e ects of climate change to motivate us to develop solutions,
or we can allow it to make us feel overwhelmed and hopeless and
do nothing as a result. Sometimes fear is a critical warning to help
us survive true danger, but most of the time what we feel is anxiety
related to everyday concerns about money, jobs, and relationships.
We allow anxiety—everyday fear—to hold us back by blocking us
from our true feelings. The longer we hold on to fears, the more
they ferment until eventually they become toxic.

I am sitting cross-legged on the floor of a cold basement room in the

monastery with twenty or so other monks. I’ve been at the ashram for
only a couple months.Gauranga Das has just discussed the scene in
the Gita when Arjuna, the hero, is overcome by fear. It turns out that
Arjuna’s fear makes him pause instead of charging directly into
battle. He’s devastated that so many people he loves will die that day.
The fear and anguish lead him to question his actions for the first
time. Doing so provokes him into a long conversation about human
morals, spirituality, and how life works according to Krishna, who is
his charioteer.
When Gauranga Das concludes his lecture, he asks us to close our
eyes, then directs us to relive a fear from our past: not just imagine it
but feel it in our bodies—all the sights, sounds, and smells of that
experience. He tells us that it’s important that we not choose
something minor, such as a first day at school or learning to swim
(unless those experiences were truly terrifying), but something
significant. He wants us to uncover, accept, and create a new
relationship with our deepest fears.
We start joking around—someone makes fun of my overreaction
to a snakeskin I came across on one of our walks. Gauranga Das
acknowledges our antics with a knowing nod. “If you want to do this
activity properly,” he says, “you have to push beyond the part of your
mind that’s making fun of it. That’s a defense mechanism keeping
you from really dealing with the issue, and that’s what we do with
fear. We distract ourselves from it,” Gauranga Das says. “You need
to go past that place.” The laughter fades, and I can almost feel
everyone’s spine straighten along with my own.
I close my eyes and my mind quiets down, but I still don’t expect
much. I’m not scared of anything. Not really, I think. Then, as I
drop further and further into meditation, past the noise and chatter
of my brain, I ask myself, What am I really scared of? Flickers of
truth begin to appear. I see my fear of exams as a kid. I know—that
probably sounds trivial. No one likes exams, right? But exams were
some of my greatest anxieties growing up. Sitting in meditation, I
allow myself to explore what was behind that fear. What am I really
scared of? I ask myself again. Gradually, I recognize that my fear
focused on what my parents and my friends would think of my
scores, and of me as a result. About what my extended family would
say, and how I’d be compared to my cousins and pretty much
everyone else around me. I don’t just see this fear in my mind’s eye, I
feel it in my body—the tightness in my chest, the tension in my jaw,
as if I am right back there. What am I really scared of? Then I start
to delve into fear around the times when I’d gotten in trouble at
school. I was so worried that I would be suspended or expelled. How
would my parents react? What would my teachers think? I invite
myself to go even deeper. What am I really scared of? I see this fear
around my parents—of them not getting along and of me, at a
young age, trying to mediate their marriage. Of thinking, How can
I please both of them? How can I manage them and make sure
they’re happy? That’s when I find the root of my fear. What am I
really scared of? I am afraid that I can’t make my parents happy.
As soon as I hit that revelation, I know I’ve reached the true fear
beneath all of the other fears. It is a full-body aha moment, like I
sank deeper and deeper under water, pressure mounting against my
chest, increasingly desperate to breathe, and when that realization
hit me, my head popped up, and I gasped for air.

Half an hour earlier I’d been so sure I wasn’t scared of anything,

and suddenly I was uncovering my deepest fears and anxieties,
which I’d managed to hide completely from myself for years. By
gently, but consistently, asking myself what I was scared of, I
refused to let my mind dodge the question. Our brains are really
good at keeping us from entering uncomfortable spaces. But by
repeating a question rather than rephrasing it, we essentially
corner our brain. Now, it’s not about being aggressive with
ourselves—this isn’t an interrogation, it’s an interview. You want
to ask yourself the question with sincerity, not force.
Being scared of exam results was what I call a branch. As you
develop your relationship with your fear, you’ll have to distinguish
between branches—the immediate fears that come up during your
self-interview—and the root. Tracking my fear of exam results and
the other “branch” fears that appeared led me to the root: fearing I
couldn’t make my parents happy.

THE FEAR OF FEAR

During my three years as a monk, I learned to let go of my fear of
fear. Fear of punishment, humiliation, or failure—and their
accompanying negative attitudes—no longer propel my misguided
attempts at self-protection. I can recognize the opportunities that
fear signals. Fear can help us identify and address patterns of
thinking and behavior that don’t serve us.
We let our fear drive us, but fear itself is not our real problem.
Our real problem is that we fear the wrong things: What we should
really fear is that we will miss the opportunities that fear o ers.
Gavin de Becker, one of the world’s leading security experts, in
The Gift of Fear calls it “a brilliant internal guardian that stands
ready to warn you of hazards and guide you through risky
situations.” Often, we notice fear’s warning but ignore its
guidance. If we learn how to recognize what fear can teach us
about ourselves and what we value, then we can use it as a tool to
obtain greater meaning, purpose, and ful llment in our lives. We
can use fear to get to the best of us.
A few decades ago, scientists conducted an experiment in the
Arizona desert where they built “Biosphere 2”—a huge steel-and-
glass enclosure with air that had been puri ed, clean water,
nutrient-rich soil, and lots of natural light. It was meant to provide
ideal living conditions for the ora and fauna within. And while it
was successful in some ways, in one it was an absolute failure. Over
and over, when trees inside the Biosphere grew to a certain height,
they would simply fall over. At rst, the phenomenon confused
scientists. Finally, they realized that the Biosphere lacked a key
element necessary to the trees’ health: wind. In a natural
environment, trees are bu eted by wind. They respond to that
pressure and agitation by growing stronger bark and deeper roots
to increase their stability.
We waste a lot of time and energy trying to stay in the
comfortable bubble of our self-made Biospheres. We fear the
stresses and challenges of change, but those stresses and challenges
are the wind that makes us stronger. In 2017, Alex Honnold
stunned the world when he became the rst person ever to climb
Freerider—a nearly three-thousand-foot ascent up Yosemite
National Park’s legendary El Capitan—entirely without ropes.
Honnold’s unbelievable accomplishment was the subject of the
award-winning documentary Free Solo. In the lm Honnold is
asked about how he deals with knowing that when he free climbs,
the options are perfection or death. “People talk about trying to
suppress your fear,” he responded. “I try to look at it a di erent
way—I try to expand my comfort zone by practicing the moves
over and over again. I work through the fear until it’s just not scary
anymore.” Honnold’s fear prompts him to put in extensive
amounts of focused work before he attempts a monumental free
solo. Making his fear productive is a critical component of his
training, and it’s propelled Honnold to the top of his climbing
game and to the top of mountains. If we can stop viewing stress
and the fear that often accompanies it as negative and instead see
the potential bene ts, we’re on our way to changing our
relationship with fear.

THE STRESS RESPONSE

The rst thing we need to realize about stress is that it doesn’t do a
good job of classifying problems. Recently I had the chance to test
a virtual reality device. In the virtual world, I was climbing a
mountain. As I stepped out on a ledge, I felt as scared as if I were
actually eight thousand feet in the air. When your brain shouts
“Fear!” your body can’t di erentiate between whether the threat is
real or imagined—whether your survival is in jeopardy, or you’re
thinking about your taxes. As soon as that fear signal goes o , our
bodies prepare us to ght or ee, or sometimes to freeze. If we
launch into this high-alert fear state too often, all of those stress
hormones start to send us downhill, a ecting our immune
systems, our sleep, and our ability to heal.
Yet studies show that being able to successfully deal with
intermittent stressors—such as managing that big work project or
moving to a new house—to approach them head-on, like those
trees standing up to the wind, contributes to better health, along
with greater feelings of accomplishment and well-being.
When you deal with fear and hardship, you realize that you’re
capable of dealing with fear and hardship. This gives you a new
perspective: the con dence that when bad things happen, you will
nd ways to handle them. With that increased objectivity, you
become better able to di erentiate what’s actually worth being
afraid of and what’s not.
From the fear meditation I described above, I came away with
the idea that we have four di erent emotional reactions to fear: We
panic, we freeze, we run away, or we bury it, as I had buried my
anxiety about my parents. The rst two are shorter-term strategies,
while the second two are longer-term, but all of them distract us
from the situation and prevent us from using our fear
productively.
In order to change our relationship with fear, we have to
change our perception of it. Once we can see the value that fear
o ers, we can change how we respond. An essential step in this
reprogramming is learning to recognize our reaction pattern to
fear.

WORK WITH FEAR

I’ve mentioned that monks begin the growth process with
awareness. Just as we do when facing negativity, we want to
externalize our fear and take a step back from it, becoming
objective observers.
The process of learning to work with fear isn’t just about doing
a few exercises that solve everything, it’s about changing your
attitude toward fear, understanding that it has something to o er,
then committing to doing the work of identifying and trying to
shift out of your pattern of distraction every time it appears. Each
of the four distractions from fear—panicking, freezing, running
away, and burying—is a di erent version of a single action, or
rather, a single inaction: refusing to accept our fear. So the rst
step in transforming our fear from a negative to a positive is doing
just that.

ACCEPT YOUR FEAR

To close the gap with our fear, we must acknowledge its presence.
As my teacher told us, “You’ve got to recognize your pain.” We
were still seated, and he told us to take a deep breath and silently
say, “I see you,” to our pain. That was our rst acknowledgment of
our relationship with fear, to breathe in and repeat, “I see you, my
pain. I see you, my fear,” and as we breathed out, we said, “I see
you and I’m here with you. I see you and I am here for you.” Pain
makes us pay attention. Or it should. When we say “I see you,” we
are giving it the attention it is asking for. Just like a crying baby
needs to be heard and held.
Breathing steadily while we acknowledged our fear helped us
calm our mental and physical responses in its presence. Walk
toward your fear. Become familiar with it. In this way we bring
ourselves into full presence with fear. When you wake up to that
smoke alarm going o , you would acknowledge what is happening
in the moment, and then you would get out of the house. Later, in
a calmer state, you would re ect on how the re started or where it
came from. You would call the insurance company. You would
take control of the narrative. That is recognizing and staying in
present time with fear.

TRY THIS: RATE YOUR FEAR

Draw a line with zero at one end and ten at the other. What’s the worst
thing you can imagine? Maybe it’s a paralyzing injury or losing a loved
one. Make that a ten on the line. Now rate your current fear in relation to
that one. Just doing this helps give some perspective. When you feel
fear crop up, rate it. Where does it fall next to something that’s truly
scary?

FIND FEAR PATTERNS

Along with accepting our fear, we must get personal with it. This
means recognizing the situations in which it regularly appears. A
powerful question to ask your fear (again, with kindness and
sincerity, as many times as necessary) is “When do I feel you?”
After my initial work with fear at the monastery, I continued to
identify all of the spaces and situations in which my fear emerged.
I consistently saw that when I was worried about my exams, when
I was worried about my parents, or about my performance at
school or getting in trouble, the fear always led me to the same
concern: how I was perceived by others. What would they think of
me? My root fear in uences my decision-making. That awareness
now prompts me when I reach a decisive moment to take a closer
look and ask myself, “Is this decision in uenced by how others will
perceive me?” In this way, I can use my awareness of my fear as a
tool to help me make decisions that are truly in line with my values
and purpose.
Sometimes we can trace our fears through the actions we take,
and sometimes it’s the actions we’re reluctant to take. One of my
clients was a successful attorney, but she was tired of practicing
law and wanted to do something new. She came to me because she
was letting her fear stop her. “What if I jump and there’s nothing
on the other side?” she asked me. That sounded like a branch
question, so I kept probing. “What are you really scared of?” I
asked her, then gently kept asking until eventually she sighed and
said, “I’ve spent so much e ort and energy building this career.
What if I’m just throwing it all away?” I asked again and nally we
got to the root: She was afraid of failure and of being seen as less
than an intelligent, capable person by others and by herself. Once
she learned and acknowledged the true nature of her fear, she was
on her way to recasting its role in her life, but rst she needed to
develop some real intimacy with it. She needed to walk into her
fear.
One of the problems we identi ed was that she had no role
models. All of the attorneys she knew were still practicing full-
time. She needed to see people who had successfully done some
version of what she wanted to do, so I asked her to spend time
getting to know former attorneys who were now working in new
careers that they loved. When she did that, she not only saw that
what she dreamed of was possible, she was also delighted to learn
how many of those people said they were still applying skills that
they had acquired and used to practice law. She wouldn’t be
throwing all of her hard work away after all. I also asked her to
research jobs she might consider. Through that exercise, she found
that many of the “soft skills” she’d had to learn to be a successful
attorney, such as communication, teamwork, and problem-
solving, were highly sought after elsewhere too. By developing that
intimacy with her fear—getting up close and examining what she
was afraid of—she ended up with information that left her feeling
more empowered and excited about the idea of switching careers.
Patterns for distracting ourselves from fear are established when
we’re young. They are deeply ingrained, so it takes some time and
e ort to uncover them. Recognizing our fear patterns helps us
trace fear to the root. From there we can decipher whether there’s
truly any cause for urgency, or whether our fear can actually lead
us to recognize opportunities to live more in alignment with our
values, passion, and purpose.

THE CAUSE OF FEAR: ATTACHMENT. THE CURE

FOR FEAR: DETACHMENT
Though we are developing intimacy with our fear, we want to see
it as its own entity, separate from us. When we talk about our
emotions, we usually say we are that emotion. I am angry. I am
sad. I am afraid. Talking to our fear separates it from us and helps
us understand that the fear is not us, it is just something we’re
experiencing. When you meet someone who gives o a negative
vibe, you feel it, but you don’t think that vibe is you. It’s the same
with our emotions—they are something we’re feeling, but they are
not us. Try shifting from I am angry to I feel angry. I feel sad. I feel
afraid. A simple change, but a profound one because it puts our
emotions in their rightful place. Having this perspective calms
down our initial reactions and give us the space to examine our
fear and the situation around it without judgment.
When we track our fears back to their source, most of us nd
that they’re closely related to attachment—our need to own and
control things. We hold on to ideas we have about ourselves, to the
material possessions and standard of living that we think de ne us,
to the relationships we want to be one thing even if they are clearly
another. That is the monkey mind thinking. A monk mind
practices detachment. We realize that everything—from our
houses to our families—is borrowed.
 Clinging to temporary things gives them power over us, and
they become sources of pain and fear. But when we accept the
temporary nature of everything in our lives, we can feel gratitude
for the good fortune of getting to borrow them for a time. Even
the most permanent of possessions, belonging to the most wealthy
and powerful, don’t actually belong to them. This is just as true
for the rest of us. And for many—indeed most—of us, that
impermanence causes great fear. But, as I learned in the ashram,
we can shift our fear to a soaring sense of freedom.
Our teachers made a distinction between useful and hurtful
fears. They told us that a useful fear alerts us to a situation we can
change. If the doctor tells you that you have poor health because
of your diet, and you fear disability or disease, that’s a useful fear
because you can change your diet. When your health improves as a
result, you eliminate your fear. But fearing that our parents will die
is a hurtful fear because we can’t change the truth of the matter.
We transform hurtful fears into useful fears by focusing on what
we can control. We can’t stop our parents from dying, but we use
the fear to remind us to spend more time with them. In the words
of Śāntideva, “It is not possible to control all external events; but if
I simply control my mind, what need is there to control other
things?” This is detachment, when you observe your own
reactions from a distance—with your monk mind—making
decisions with a clear perspective.
There’s a common misconception about detachment that I’d
like to address. People often equate detachment with indi erence.
They think that seeing things, people, and experiences as
temporary or seeing them from a distance diminishes our ability to
enjoy life, but that’s not the case. Imagine you’re driving a luxury
rental car. Do you tell yourself that you own it? Of course not.
You know you only have it for the week, and in some ways, that
allows you to enjoy it more—you are grateful for the chance to
drive a convertible down the Paci c Coast Highway because it’s
something you won’t always get to do. Imagine you’re staying in
the most beautiful Airbnb. It’s got a hot tub, chef’s kitchen, ocean
views; it’s so beautiful and exciting. You don’t spend every
moment there dreading your departure in a week. When we
acknowledge that all of our blessings are like a fancy rental car or a
beautiful Airbnb, we are free to enjoy them without living in
constant fear of losing them. We are all the lucky vacationers
enjoying our stay in Hotel Earth.
Detachment is the ultimate practice in minimizing fear. Once I
identi ed my anxiety about disappointing my parents, I was able
to detach from it. I realized I had to take responsibility for my life.
My parents might be upset, they might not—I had no control over
that. I could only make decisions based on my own values.

TRY THIS: AUDIT YOUR ATTACHMENTS

Ask yourself: “What am I afraid of losing?” Start with the externals: Is it
your car, your house, your looks? Write down everything you think of.
Now think about the internals: your reputation, your status, your sense of
belonging? Write those down too. These combined lists are likely to be
the greatest sources of pain in your life—your fear of having these things
taken away. Now start thinking about changing your mental relationship
with those things so that you are less attached to them. Remember—you
can still fully love and enjoy your partner, your children, your home, your
money, from a space of nonattachment. It’s about understanding and
accepting that all things are temporary and that we can’t truly own or
control anything, so that we can fully appreciate these things and they
can enhance our life rather than be a source of griping and fear. What
better way to accept that children eventually go off to live their own lives
and call you once a week, if you’re lucky?
This is a lifelong practice, but as you become more and more
accepting of the fact that we don’t truly own or control anything, you’ll
find yourself actually enjoying and valuing people, things, and
experiences more, and being more thoughtful about which ones you
choose to include in your life.

MANAGING SHORT-TERM FEARS

Detaching from your fears allows you to address them. Years ago, a
friend lost his job. Jobs are security, and we are all naturally
attached to the idea of putting food on the table. Right away, my
friend went into panic mode. “Where are we going to get money?
I’m never going to get hired again. I’m going to have to get two or
three gigs to cover our bills!” Not only did he make grim
predictions about the future, he started questioning the past. “I
should have been better at my work. I should have worked harder
and longer hours!”
When you panic, you start to anticipate outcomes that have not
yet come to pass. Fear makes us ction writers. We start with a
premise, an idea, a fear—what will happen if… Then we spiral o ,
devising possible future scenarios. When we anticipate future
outcomes, fear holds us back, imprisoning us in our imaginations.
The Roman Stoic philosopher Seneca observed that “Our fears are
more numerous than our dangers, and we su er more in our
imagination than reality.”
We can manage acute stress if we detach on the spot. There’s an
old Taoist parable about a farmer whose horse ran away. “How
unlucky!” his brother tells him. The farmer shrugs. “Good thing,
bad thing, who knows,” he says. A week later, the wayward horse
nds its way home, and with it is a beautiful wild mare. “That’s
amazing!” his brother says, admiring the new horse with no small
envy. Again, the farmer is unmoved. “Good thing, bad thing, who
knows,” he says. A few days later, the farmer’s son climbs up on
the mare, hoping to tame the wild beast, but the horse bucks and
rears, and the boy, hurled to the ground, breaks a leg. “How
unlucky!” his brother says, with a tinge of satisfaction. “Good
thing, bad thing, who knows,” the farmer replies again. The next
day, the young men of the village are called into military service,
but because the son’s leg is broken, he is excused from the draft.
His brother tells the farmer that this, surely, is the best news of all.
“Good thing, bad thing, who knows,” the farmer says. The farmer
in this story didn’t get lost in “what if” but instead focused on
“what is.” During my monk training, we were taught, “Don’t
judge the moment.”
I passed along the same advice to someone I advised who’d lost
his job. Instead of judging the moment, he needed to accept his
situation and whatever came of it, focusing on what he could
control. I worked with him on rst slowing everything down, then
acknowledging the facts of his situation—he had lost his job,
period. From there he had a choice: He could panic or freeze, or he
could take this opportunity to work with fear as a tool, using it as
an indicator of what truly mattered to him and to see what new
opportunities might arise.
When I asked him what he was most afraid of, he said it was
that he wouldn’t be able to take care of his family. I gently urged
him to be more speci c. He said he was worried about money. So I
challenged him to think of other ways he might support his family.
After all, his wife worked, so they had some money coming in;
they weren’t going to be out on the street. “Time,” he said. “Now
I have time to spend with my kids, taking them to and from
school, helping them with their homework. And while they’re at
school, I’ll actually have time to look for a new job. A better one.”
Because he slowed down, accepted his fear, and gained clarity
around it, he was able to defuse his panic and see that fear was
actually alerting him to an opportunity. Time is another form of
wealth. He realized that while he had lost his job, he had gained
something else very valuable. Using his newfound time, he was not
only more present in his kids’ lives, but he also ended up getting a
new, better job. Reframing the situation stopped him from
draining energy negatively and encouraged him to start applying it
positively.
Still, it’s hard to not judge the moment and remain open to
opportunity when the unknown future spins like a whirlwind
through your body and brain. Sometimes our panic or freeze
responses rush ahead of us and make it di cult to suspend
judgment. Let’s talk about some strategies to help us amend panic
and fear.

Short-Circuit Fear

Fortunately, a simple, powerful tool to short-circuit the panic

response is always with us: our breath. Before I give a talk, when
I’m standing o stage listening to my introduction, I’ll feel my
heart beat faster and my hands getting moist. I’ve coached people
who perform in front of full arenas and people who present at
everyday meetings, and, like the rest of us, they feel most of their
fear physically. Whether it’s performance anxiety or social fears,
such as before a job interview or attending a party, our fear
manifests in the body, and these bodily cues are the rst signals
that fear is about to take over. Panic and freezing are a disconnect
between our bodies and our minds. Either our bodies go on high
alert and rush ahead of our mental processes, or our minds are
racing and our bodies start to shut down. As a monk, I learned a
simple breathing exercise to help realign my body and mind and
stop fear from stopping me. I still use it every time I’m about to
give a talk to a large group, enter a stressful meeting, or go into a
room full of people I don’t know.

TRY THIS: DON’T PANIC! USE YOUR BREATH TO

REALIGN BODY AND MIND
“Breathe to calm and relax yourself” meditation: (see page 89)

1. Inhale slowly to a count of 4.

2. Hold for a count of 4.
3. Exhale slowly to a count of 4 or more.
4. Repeat until you feel your heart rate slow down.

It’s really that easy. You see, deep breathing activates a part of our
nervous system called the vagus nerve, which in turn stimulates a
relaxation response throughout our bodies. The simple act of controlled
breathing is like flipping a switch that shifts our nervous system from the
sympathetic, or fight-flight-freeze, state to the parasympathetic, or rest-
and-digest, state, allowing our mind and body to get back in synch.

See the Whole Story

Breath is useful on the spot, but some fears are hard to dispel with
our breath alone. When we go through a period of instability, we
fear what’s ahead. When we know we have a test or a job interview,
we fear the outcome. In the moment, we can’t see the complete
picture, but when the stressful period passes, we never look back
to learn from the experience. Life isn’t a collection of unrelated
events, it’s a narrative that stretches into the past and the future.
We are natural storytellers, and we can use that proclivity to our
detriment—to tell horror stories about possible future events.
Better to try seeing our lives as a single, long, continuing story, not
just disconnected pieces. When you are hired for a job, take a
moment to re ect on all the lost jobs and/or failed interviews that
led to this victory. You can think of them as necessary challenges
along the way. When we learn to stop segmenting experiences and
periods of our life and instead see them as scenes and acts in a
larger narrative, we gain perspective that helps us deal with fear.

TRY THIS: EXPAND THE MOMENT

Think of something great that happened to you. Perhaps it was the birth
of a child or getting that new job you wanted. Let yourself feel that joy
for a moment. Now rewind to the events that occurred just before it.
What was going on in your life before the birth of your child or before you
were selected for that job? Perhaps it was months and months of trying
unsuccessfully to conceive or being rejected from three other jobs you’d
applied for. Now try to see that narrative as a whole story—a progression
from the bad to the good. Open yourself to the idea that perhaps what
happened during the challenging time was actually clearing the way for
what you’re now celebrating, or made you feel even happier about the
experience that came after it. Now take a moment to express gratitude
for those challenges and weave them into the story of your life.

Admittedly, we do our best celebrating in hindsight. When we

are actually experiencing challenges, it’s di cult to tell ourselves,
“This could end up being a good thing!” But the more we practice
looking in the rearview mirror and nding gratitude for the hard
times we’ve experienced, the more we start to change our
programming; the gap between su ering and gratitude gets
smaller and smaller; and the intensity of our fear in the moments
of hardship begins to diminish.

Revisit Long-Term Fears

Panic and freezing can be dealt with using breath and by reframing
the circumstances, but these are short-term fear responses. It is
much harder to control the two long-term strategies we use to
distract us from fear: burying and running away. One of my
favorite ways to understand how these strategies work involves a
house on re. Let’s say you wake up in the middle of the night to
your smoke detector beeping. Immediately, you’re afraid, as you
should be—that signal did its job, which was to get your attention.
Now you smell smoke, so you gather your family and pets together
and you get out of the house, right? This is fear put to its best use.
But what if, upon hearing the smoke alarm, instead of quickly
assessing the situation and taking the logical next steps, you
hurried over to the smoke detector, removed the battery, and went
back to bed? As you can imagine, your problems are about to
magnify. Yet that’s what we often do with fear. Instead of assessing
and responding, we deny or abandon the situation. Relationships
are a space where we commonly use the “solution” of avoidance.
Let’s say you’re having some major con ict with your girlfriend.
Rather than sitting down with her and talking about what’s going
on (putting out the re), or even guring out that you aren’t
meant to be together (safely and calmly getting everyone out of the
house), you pretend everything’s ne (while the destructive re
burns on).
When we deny fear, our problems follow us. In fact, they’re
probably getting bigger, and bigger, and at some point something
will force us to deal with them. When all else fails, pain does make
us pay attention. If we don’t learn from the signal that alerts us to
a problem, we’ll end up learning from the results of the problem
itself, which is far less desirable. But if we face our fear—we stay,
we deal with the re, we have the tough conversation—we become
stronger as a result.
The very rst lesson the Gita teaches us is how to handle fear.
In the moments before the battle starts, when Arjuna is overcome
by fear, he doesn’t run from it or bury it; he faces it. In the text,
Arjuna is a brave and skilled warrior, yet in this moment it is fear
that causes him, for the rst time, to re ect. It’s often said that
when the fear of staying the same outweighs the fear of change,
that is when we change. He asks for help in the form of insight and
understanding. In that action, he has begun to shift from being
controlled by his fear to understanding it. “What you run from
only stays with you longer,” writes the author of the novel Fight
Club, Chuck Palahniuk, in his book Invisible Monsters Remix.
“Find what you’re afraid of most and go live there.”
That day in the basement of the ashram, I opened myself to my
deeply held fears about my parents. I rarely experienced panic or
freeze reactions, but that didn’t mean I had no fears—it meant I
was pushing them down. As my teacher said, “When fear is buried,
it’s something we cling to, and it makes everything feel tight
because we’re under this burden of things we’ve never released.”
Whether you suppress them or run away from them, your fears
and your problems remain with you—and they accumulate. We
used to think it didn’t matter if we dumped our trash in land lls
without regard for the environment. If we couldn’t see it or smell
it, we gured it would somehow just take care of itself. Yet before
regulation, land lls polluted water supplies, and even today they
are one of the largest producers of human-generated methane gas
in the United States. In the same way, burying our fears takes an
unseen toll on our internal landscape.

TRY THIS: DIVE INTO YOUR FEARS

As we did at the ashram, take a deep dive into your fears. At first a few
surface-level fears will pop up. Stay with the exercise, asking yourself
What am I really afraid of? and larger and deeper fears will begin to
reveal themselves. These answers don’t usually come all at once.
Typically, it takes some time to sink below the layers to the real root of
your fears. Be open to the answer revealing itself over time, and maybe
not even during a meditation or other focused session. You may be at
the grocery store selecting avocados one day when all of a sudden it
dawns on you. That’s just how we operate.

Going through the processes of acknowledging fear, observing

our patterns for dealing with it, addressing and amending those
patterns helps us to reprogram our view of fear from something
that’s inherently negative to a neutral signal, or even an indicator
of opportunity. When we reclassify fear, we can look past the
smoke and stories to what’s real, and in so doing, uncover deep
and meaningful truths that can inform and empower us. When we
identify our attachment-related fears and instead foster
detachment, we can live with a greater sense of freedom and
enjoyment. And when we channel the energy behind our fears
toward service, we diminish our fear of not having enough, and
feel happier, more ful lled, and more connected to the world
around us.
Fear motivates us. Sometimes it motivates us toward what we
want, but sometimes, if we aren’t careful, it limits us with what we
think will keep us safe.

Next we will look at our primary motivators (fear is one of four)

and how we can deliberately use them to build a ful lling life.
 FOUR

INTENTION
Blinded by the Gold

When there is harmony between the mind, heart, and

resolution then nothing is impossible
—Rig Veda

In our heads we have an image of an ideal life: our relationships, how we

spend our time in work and leisure, what we want to achieve. Even
without the noise of external in uences, certain goals captivate us, and
we design our lives around achieving them because we think they will
make us happy. But now we will gure out what drives these ambitions,
whether they are likely to make us truly happy, and whether happiness is
even the right target.

I have just come out of a class where we discussed the idea of rebirth,
Saṃsāra, and now I am strolling through the quiet ashram with a senior
monk and a few other students. The ashram has two locations, a temple in
Mumbai and the one where I am now, a rural outpost near Palghar. This
will eventually be developed into the Govardhan Ecovillage, a beautiful
retreat, but for now there are just a few simple, nondescript buildings set in
uncultivated land. Dry dirt footpaths divide the grasses. Here and there,
monks sit on straw mats, reading or studying. The main building is open
to the elements, and inside we can see monks working. As we walk, the
senior monk mentions the achievements of some of the monks we pass. He
points out one who can meditate for eight hours straight. A few minutes
later he gestures to another: “He fasts for seven days in a row.” Further
along, he points. “Do you see the man sitting under that tree? He can recite
every verse from the scripture.”
 Impressed, I say, “I wish I could do that.”
The monk pauses and turns to look at me. He asks, “Do you wish you
could do that, or do you wish you could learn to do that?”
“What do you mean?” I know by now that some of my favorite lessons
come not in the classroom, but in moments like this.
He says, “Think about your motivations. Do you want to memorize all
of the scripture because it’s an impressive achievement, or do you want the
experience of having studied it? In the first, all you want is the outcome. In
the second, you are curious about what you might learn from the process.”
This was a new concept for me, and it blew my mind. Desiring an
outcome had always seemed reasonable to me. The monk was telling me
to question why I wanted to do what was necessary to reach that
outcome.

THE FOUR MOTIVATIONS

No matter how disorganized we might be, we all have plans. We have an
idea of what we have to accomplish in the day ahead; we probably have a
sense of what the year holds, or what we hope we’ll accomplish; and we
all have dreams for the future. Something motivates every one of these
notions—from needing to pay the rent to wanting to travel the world.
Hindu philosopher Bhaktivinoda Thakura describes four fundamental
motivations.

1. Fear. Thakura describes this as being driven by “sickness, poverty,

fear of hell or fear of death.”
2. Desire. Seeking personal grati cation through success, wealth, and
pleasure.
3. Duty. Motivated by gratitude, responsibility, and the desire to do
the right thing.
4. Love. Compelled by care for others and the urge to help them.

These four motivations drive everything we do. We make choices, for

example, because we’re scared of losing our job, wanting to win the
admiration of our friends, hoping to ful ll our parents’ expectations, or
wanting to help others live a better life.
 I’m going to talk about each motivation individually, so we get a sense
of how they shape our choices.

Fear Is Not Sustainable

In the last chapter we talked about fear, so I’m not going to dwell on it
here. When fear motivates you, you pick what you want to achieve—a
promotion, a relationship, buying a home—because you believe it will
bring you safety and security.
Fear alerts and ignites us. This warning are is useful—as we
discussed, fear points out problems and sometimes motivates us. For
instance, the fear of getting red may motivate you to get organized.
The problem with fear is that it’s not sustainable. When we operate in
fear for a long time, we can’t work to the best of our abilities. We are too
worried about getting the wrong result. We become frantic or paralyzed
and are unable to evaluate our situations objectively or to take risks.

The Maya of Success

The second motivation is desire. This is when we chase personal

grati cation. Our path to adventures, pleasures, and comforts often takes
the form of material goals. I want a million-dollar home. I want financial
freedom. I want an amazing wedding. When I ask people to write down
their goals, they often give answers describing what most people think of
as success.
We think that success equals happiness, but this idea is an illusion.
The Sanskrit word for illusion is maya, which means believing in that
which is not. When we let achievements and acquisitions determine our
course, we’re living in the illusion that happiness comes from external
measures of success, but all too often we nd that when we nally get
what we want, when we nd success, it doesn’t lead to happiness.
Jim Carrey once said, “I think everybody should get rich and famous
and do everything they ever dreamed of, so they can see that it’s not the
answer.”
The illusion of success is tied not just to income and acquisitions but
to achievements like becoming a doctor or getting a promotion or…
memorizing the scriptures. My desire in the story above—to be able to
recite every verse from the scripture—is the monk’s version of material
desire. Like all of these “wants,” my ambition was centered around an
external outcome—being as impressively learned as that other monk.
American spiritual luminary Tara Brach, founder of the Insight
Meditation Community of Washington, DC, writes, “As long as we keep
attaching our happiness to the external events of our lives, which are ever
changing, we’ll always be left waiting for it.”
Once, as a monk, I visited a temple in Srirangam, one of the three
major holy cities in South India. I came upon a worker high up on a
sca old applying gold powder to the intricate details on the temple’s
ceiling. I’d never seen anything like it, and I stopped to watch. As I gazed
upward, a dusting of gold oated down into my eyes. I hurried from the
temple to rinse my eyes, then returned, keeping a safe distance this time.
This episode felt like a lesson torn from the scriptures: Gold dust is
beautiful, but come too close, and it will blur your vision.
The gilt that is used on temples isn’t solid gold—it’s mixed into a
solution. And, as we know, it is used to cover up stone, to make it look
like solid gold. It’s maya, an illusion. In the same way, money and fame
are only a facade. Because our search is never for a thing, but for the
feeling we think the thing will give us. We all know this already: We see
wealthy and/or famous people who seem to “have it all,” but who have
bad relationships or su er from depression, and it’s obvious that success
didn’t bring them happiness. The same is true for those of us who aren’t
rich and famous. We quickly tire of our smartphones and want the next
model. We receive a bonus, but the initial excitement fades surprisingly
fast when our lives don’t really improve. We think that a new phone or a
bigger house will make us feel somehow better—cooler or more satis ed
—but instead nd ourselves wanting more.
Material grati cation is external, but happiness is internal. When
monks talk about happiness, they tell the story of the musk deer, a tale
derived from a poem by Kabir, a fteenth-century Indian mystic and
poet. The musk deer picks up an irresistible scent in the forest and chases
it, searching for the source, not realizing that the scent comes from its
own pores. It spends its whole life wandering fruitlessly. In the same way
we search for happiness, nding it elusive, when it can be found within
us.
 Happiness and ful llment come only from mastering the mind and
connecting with the soul—not from objects or attainments. Success
doesn’t guarantee happiness, and happiness doesn’t require success.
They can feed each other, and we can have them at the same time, but
they are not intertwined. After analyzing a Gallup survey on well-being,
Princeton University researchers o cially concluded that money does
not buy happiness after basic needs and then some are ful lled. While
having more money contributes to overall life satisfaction, that impact
levels o at a salary of around $75,000. In other words, when it comes to
the impact of money on how you view the quality of your life, a middle-
class American citizen fares about as well as Je Bezos.
Success is earning money, being respected in your work, executing
projects smoothly, receiving accolades. Happiness is feeling good about
yourself, having close relationships, making the world a better place.
More than ever, popular culture celebrates the pursuit of success. TV
shows aimed at adolescents focus more on image, money, and fame than
in the past. Popular songs and books use language promoting individual
achievement over community connection, group membership, and self-
acceptance. It’s no surprise that happiness rates have consistently
declined among Americans adults since the 1970s. And it doesn’t just
boil down to income. In an interview with the Washington Post, Je rey
Sachs, director of the Center for Sustainable Development and an editor
of World Happiness Report, points out: “While the average income of
people around the world de nitely a ects their sense of well-being, it
doesn’t explain all that much, because other factors, both personal and
social, are very important determinants of well-being.” Sachs says that
while generally American incomes have risen since 2005, our happiness
has fallen, in part because of social factors like declining trust in the
government and our fellow Americans, and weaker social networks.

Duty and Love

If fear limits us and success doesn’t satisfy us, then you’ve probably
already guessed that duty and love have more to o er. We all have
di erent goals, but we all want the same things: a life full of joy and
meaning. Monks don’t seek out the joy part—we aren’t looking for
happiness or pleasure. Instead, we focus on the satisfaction that comes
from living a meaningful life. Happiness can be elusive—it’s hard to
sustain a high level of joy. But to feel meaning shows that our actions
have purpose. They lead to a worthwhile outcome. We believe we’re
leaving a positive imprint. What we do matters, so we matter. Bad things
happen, boring chores must get done, life isn’t all sunshine and
unicorns, but it is always possible to nd meaning. If you lose a loved one
and someone tells you to look for the positive, to be happy, to focus on
the good things in your life—well, you might want to punch that person.
But we can survive the worst tragedies by looking for meaning in the loss.
We might honor a loved one by giving to the community. Or discover a
new gratitude for life that we pass on to those who have supported us.
Eventually, the value that we see in our actions will lead to a sense of
meaning. In the Atharva Veda it says, “Money and mansions are not the
only wealth. Hoard the wealth of the spirit. Character is wealth: good
conduct is wealth; and spiritual wisdom is wealth.”
Purpose and meaning, not success, lead to true contentment. When
we understand this, we see the value of being motivated by duty and/or
love. When you act out of duty and love, you know that you are
providing value.
The more we upgrade from trying to ful ll our sel sh needs to doing
things out of service and love, the more we can achieve. In her book The
Upside of Stress, author Kelly McGonigal says that we can better handle
discomfort when we can associate it with a goal, purpose, or person we
care about. For example, when it comes to planning a child’s birthday
party, a parent might be more than willing to endure the unpleasantness
of staying up late. The pain of lost sleep is o set by the satisfaction of
being a loving mother. But when it comes to working late at a job that
same woman hates? She is miserable. We can take on more when we’re
doing it for someone we love or to serve a purpose we believe in rather
than from the misguided idea that we will nd happiness through
success. When we perform work with the conviction that what we do
matters, we can live intensely. Without a reason for moving forward, we
have no drive. When we live intentionally—with a clear sense of why
what we do matters—life has meaning and brings ful llment. Intention
lls the car with gas.

THE WHY LADDER

Fear, desire, duty, and love are the roots of all intentions. In Sanskrit the
word for intention is sankalpa, and I think of it as the reason, formed by
one’s own heart and mind, that one strives for a goal. To put it another
way, from your root motivation you develop intentions to drive you
forward. Your intention is who you plan to be in order to act with
purpose and feel that what you do is meaningful. So if I’m motivated by
fear, my intention might be to protect my family. If I’m motivated by
desire, my intention might be to gain worldwide recognition. If I’m
motivated by duty, my intention might be to help my friends no matter
how busy I am. If I’m motivated by love, my intention might be to serve
where I am most needed.
 There are no rules attaching certain intentions to certain motivations.
You can also perform service to make a good impression (desire, not
love). You can support your family out of love, not fear. You can want to
get rich in order to serve. And none of us has just one motivation and
one intention. I want us to learn how to make big and small choices
intentionally. Instead of forever climbing the mountain of success, we
need to descend into the valley of our true selves to weed out false beliefs.
To live intentionally, we must dig to the deepest why behind the want.
This requires pausing to think not only about why we want something,
but also who we are or need to be to get it, and whether being that
person appeals to us.
Most people are accustomed to looking for answers. Monks focus on
questions. When I was trying to get close to my fear, I asked myself
“What am I afraid of?” over and over again. When I’m trying to get to
the root of a desire, I start with the question “Why?”
This monkish approach to intention can be applied to even the
worldliest goals. Here’s a sample goal I’ve chosen because it’s something
we never would have contemplated in the ashram and because the
intention behind it isn’t obvious: I want to sail solo around the world.
Why do you want to sail around the world?
It will be fun. I’ll get to see lots of places and prove to myself that I’m a
great sailor.
It sounds like your intention is to gratify yourself, and that you are
motivated by desire.
But, what if your answer to the question is:
It was always my father’s dream to sail around the world. I’m doing it
for him.
In this case, your intention is to honor your father, and you are
motivated by duty and love.
I’m sailing around the world so I can be free. I won’t be accountable to
anyone. I can leave all my responsibilities behind.
 This sailor intends to escape—he is driven by fear.
Now let’s look at a more common want:
My biggest want is money, and here’s Jay, probably about to tell me to
become kind and compassionate. That’s not going to help.
Wanting to be rich for the sake of being rich is ne. It’s rmly in the
category of material grati cation, so you can’t expect it to give an
internal sense of ful llment. Nonetheless, material comforts are
undeniably part of what we want from life, so let’s get to the root of this
goal rather than just dismissing it.
Wealth is your desired outcome. Why?
I don’t ever want to have to worry about money again.
Why do you worry about money?
I can’t afford to take the vacations I dream about.
Why do you want those vacations?
I see everyone else on exotic trips on social media. Why should they get to
do that when I can’t?
Why do you want what they want?
They’re having much more fun than I have on my weekends.
Aha! So now we are at the root of the want. Your weekends are
unful lling. What’s missing?
I want my life to be more exciting, more adventurous, more
exhilarating.
Okay, your intention is to make your life more exciting. Notice how
di erent that is from “I want money.” Your intention is still driven by
the desire for personal grati cation, but now you know two things: First,
you can add more adventure to your life right now without spending
more money. And second, you now have the clarity to decide if that’s
something you want to work hard for.
If a person went up to my teacher and said, “I just want to be rich,”
my teacher would ask, “Are you doing it out of service?” His reason for
asking would be to get to the root of the desire.
 If the man said, “No, I want to live in a nice house, travel, and buy
whatever I want.” His intention would be to have the nancial freedom
to indulge himself.
My teacher would say, “Okay, it’s good that you’re honest with
yourself. Go ahead, make your fortune. You’ll come to service anyway. It
may take you ve or ten years, but you’ll get to the same answer.” Monks
believe that the man won’t be ful lled when he nds his fortune, and
that if he continues his search for meaning, the answer will always,
eventually, be found in service.
Be honest about what your intention is. The worst thing you can do
is pretend to yourself that you’re acting out of service when all you want
is material success.
When you follow the whys, keep digging. Every answer provokes
deeper questions. Sometimes it helps to sit with a question in the back of
your mind for a day, even a week. Very often you’ll nd that what you are
ultimately searching for is an internal feeling (happiness, security,
con dence, etc.). Or maybe you’ll nd that you’re acting out of envy, not
the most positive emotion, but a good alert to the need you are trying to
ll. Be curious about that discovery. Why are you envious? Is there
something—like adventure—that you can start working on right away?
Once you’re doing that, the external wants will be more available to you
—if they still matter at all.

TRY THIS: A QUESTION MEDITATION

Take a desire you have and ask yourself why you want it. Keep asking until you
get to the root intention.
Common answers are:
To look and feel good
Security
Service
Growth
Don’t negate intentions that aren’t “good,” just be aware of them and
recognize that if your reason isn’t love, growth, or knowledge, the opportunity
may fulfill important practical needs, but it won’t feel emotionally meaningful.
We’re most satisfied when we are in a state of progress, learning, or
achievement.

SEEDS AND WEEDS

As monks, we learned to clarify our intentions through the analogy of
seeds and weeds. When you plant a seed, it can grow into an expansive
tree that provides fruit and shelter for everyone. That’s what a broad
intention, like love, compassion, or service, can do. The purity of your
intention has nothing to do with what career you choose. A tra c o cer
can give a speeding ticket making a show of his power, or he can instruct
you not to speed with the same compassion a parent would have when
telling a child not to play with re. You can be a bank teller and execute a
simple transaction with warmth. But if our intentions are vengeful or
self-motivated, we grow weeds. Weeds usually grow from ego, greed,
envy, anger, pride, competition, or stress. These might look like normal
plants to begin with, but they will never grow into something
wonderful.
If you start going to the gym to build a revenge body so your ex
regrets breaking up with you, you’re planting a weed. You haven’t
properly addressed what you want (most likely to feel understood and
loved, which would clearly require a di erent approach). You’ll get
strong, and reap the health bene ts of working out, but the stakes of
your success are tied to external factors—provoking your ex. If your ex
doesn’t notice or care, you’ll still feel the same frustration and loneliness.
However, if you start going to the gym because you want to feel
physically strong after your breakup, or if, in the course of working out,
your intention shifts to this, you’ll get in shape and feel emotionally
satis ed.
Another example of a weed is when a good intention gets attached to
the wrong goal. Say my intention is to build my con dence, and I decide
that getting a promotion is the best way to do it. I work hard, impress my
boss, and move up a level, but when I get there, I realize there’s another
level, and I still feel insecure. External goals cannot ll internal voids. No
external labels or accomplishments can give me true con dence. I have to
nd it in myself. We will talk about how to make internal changes like
this in Part Two.

THE GOOD SAMARITANS

Monks know that one can’t plant a garden of beautiful owers and leave
it to thrive on its own. We have to be gardeners of our own lives, planting
only the seeds of good intentions, watching to see what they become,
and removing the weeds that spring up and get in the way.
In a 1973 experiment called “From Jerusalem to Jericho,” researchers
asked seminary students to prepare short talks about what it meant to be
a minister. Some of them were given the parable of the Good Samaritan
to help them prep. In this parable, Jesus told of a traveler who stopped to
help a man in need when nobody else would. Then some excuse was
made for them to switch to a di erent room. On their way to the new
room, an actor, looking like he needed help, leaned in a doorway.
Whether a student had been given materials about the Good Samaritan
made no di erence in whether the student stopped to help. The
researchers did nd that if students were in a hurry they were much less
likely to help, and “on several occasions, a seminary student going to give
his talk on the parable of the Good Samaritan literally stepped over the
victim as he hurried on his way!”
The students were so focused on the task at hand that they forgot
their deeper intentions. They were presumably studying at seminary
with the intention to be compassionate and helpful, but in that moment
anxiety or the desire to deliver an impressive speech interfered. As
Benedictine monk Laurence Freeman said in his book Aspects of Love,
“Everything you do in the day from washing to eating breakfast, having
meetings, driving to work… watching television or deciding instead to
read… everything you do is your spiritual life. It is only a matter of how
consciously you do these ordinary things…”

LIVE YOUR INTENTIONS

Of course, simply having intentions isn’t enough. We have to take action
to help those seeds grow. I don’t believe in wishful “manifesting,” the
idea that if you simply believe something will happen, it will. We can’t sit
around with true intentions expecting that what we want will fall into
our laps. Nor can we expect someone to nd us, discover how amazing
we are, and hand us our place in the world. Nobody is going to create
our lives for us. Martin Luther King Jr., said, “Those who love peace
must learn to organize as e ectively as those who love war.” When people
come to me seeking guidance, I constantly hear, “I wish… I wish… I
wish…” I wish my partner would be more attentive. I wish I could have the
same job but make more money. I wish my relationship were more serious.
 We never say, “I wish I could be more organized and focused and
could do the hard work to get that.” We don’t vocalize what it would
actually take to get what we want. “I wish” is code for “I don’t want
to do anything di erently.”
There’s an apocryphal story about Picasso that perfectly illustrates
how we fail to recognize the work and perseverance behind achievement.
As the tale goes, a woman sees Picasso in a market. She goes up to him
and says, “Would you mind drawing something for me?”
“Sure,” he says, and thirty seconds later hands her a remarkably
beautiful little sketch. “That will be thirty thousand dollars,” he says.
“But Mr. Picasso,” the woman says, “how can you charge me so
much? This drawing only took you thirty seconds!”
“Madame,” says Picasso, “it took me thirty years.”
The same is true of any artistic work—or, indeed, any job that’s done
well. The e ort behind it is invisible. The monk in my ashram who could
easily recite all the scriptures put years into memorizing them. I needed
to consider that investment, the life it required, before making it my goal.

When asked who we are, we resort to stating what we do: “I’m an

accountant.” “I’m a lawyer.” “I’m a housewife/househusband.” “I’m an
athlete.” “I’m a teacher.” Sometimes this is just a useful way to jump-
start a conversation with someone you’ve just met. But life is more
meaningful when we de ne ourselves by our intentions rather than our
achievements. If you truly de ne yourself by your job, then what
happens when you lose your job? If you de ne yourself as an athlete,
then an injury ends your career, you don’t know who you are. Losing a
job shouldn’t destroy our identities, but often it does. Instead, if we live
intentionally, we sustain a sense of purpose and meaning that isn’t tied to
what we accomplish but who we are.
If your intention is to help people, you have to embody that intention
by being kind, openhearted, and innovative, by recognizing people’s
strengths, supporting their weaknesses, listening, helping them grow,
reading what they need from you, and noticing when it changes. If your
intention is to support your family, you might decide that you have to be
generous, present, hardworking, and organized. If your intention is to
live your passion, maybe you have to be committed, energetic, and
truthful. (Note that in Chapter One we cleared out external noise so that
we could see our values more clearly. When you identify your intentions,
they reveal your values. The intentions to help people and to serve mean
you value service. The intention to support your family means you value
family. It’s not rocket science, but these terms get thrown around and
used interchangeably, so it helps to know how they connect and overlap.)
Living your intention means having it permeate your behavior. For
instance, if your goal is to improve your relationship, you might plan
dates, give your partner gifts, and get a haircut to look better for them.
Your wallet will be thinner, your hair might look better, and your
relationship may or may not improve. But watch what happens if you
make internal changes to live your intention. In order to improve your
relationship, you try to become calmer, more understanding, and more
inquisitive. (You can still go to the gym and get a haircut.) If the changes
you make are internal, you’ll feel better about yourself and you’ll be a
better person. If your relationship doesn’t improve, you’ll still be the
better for it.

DO THE WORK
Once you know the why behind the want, consider the work behind the
want. What will it take to get the nice house and the fancy car? Are you
interested in that work? Are you willing to do it? Will the work itself
bring you a sense of ful llment even if you don’t succeed quickly—or
ever? The monk who asked me why I wanted to learn all of the scripture
by heart didn’t want me to be mesmerized by the superpowers of other
monks and to seek those powers out of vanity. He wanted to know if I
was interested in the work—in the life I would live, the person I would
be, the meaning I would nd in the process of learning the scriptures.
The focus is on the process, not the outcome.
The Desert Fathers were the earliest Christian monks, living in
hermitage in the deserts of the Middle East. According to these monks,
“We do not make progress because we do not realize how much we can
do. We lose interest in the work we have begun, and we want to be good
without even trying.” If you don’t care deeply, you can’t go all in on the
process. You’re not doing it for the right reasons. You can reach your
goals, get everything you ever wanted, be successful by anyone’s terms,
only to discover you still feel lost and disconnected. But if you’re in love
with the day-to-day process, then you do it with depth, authenticity, and
a desire to make an impact. You might be equally successful either way,
but if you’re driven by intention, you will feel joy.

TRY THIS: ADD TO-BE’S TO YOUR TO-DO’S

Alongside your to-do list, try making a to-be list. The good news is you’re not
making your list longer—these are not items you can check off or complete—but
the exercise is a reminder that achieving your goals with intention means living
up to the values that drive those goals.
EXAMPLE 1
Let’s say my goal is to be financially free. Here’s my to-do list:

Research lucrative job opportunities requiring my skill set

Rework CV, set up informational meetings to identify job openings
Apply for all open positions that meet my salary requirements

But what do I need to be? I need to be:

Disciplined
Focused
Passionate

EXAMPLE 2
Let’s say I want to have a fulfilling relationship. What do I need to do?

Plan dates
Do nice things for my partner
Improve my appearance

But what do I need to be?

More calm
More understanding
More inquisitive about my partner’s day and feelings

And if you have a clear and con dent sense of why you took each
step, then you are more resilient. Failure doesn’t mean you’re worthless
—it means you must look for another route to achieving worthwhile
goals. Satisfaction comes from believing in the value of what you do.

ROLE MODELS
The best way to research the work required to ful ll your intention is to
look for role models. If you want to be rich, study (without stalking!)
what the rich people you admire are being and doing, read books about
how they got where they are. Focus especially on what they did at your
stage, in order to get where they are now.
You can tour an entrepreneur’s o ce or visit an expat’s avocado ranch
and decide it’s what you want, but that doesn’t tell you anything about
the journey to get there. Being an actor isn’t about appearing on screen
and in magazines. It’s about having the patience and creativity to
perform a scene sixty times until the director has what she wants. Being a
monk isn’t admiring someone who sits in meditation. It’s waking up at
the same time as the monk, living his lifestyle, emulating the qualities he
displays. Shadow someone at work for a week and you’ll gain some sense
of the challenges they face, and whether those are challenges you want to
take on.
In your observations of people doing the work, it’s worth
remembering that there can be multiple paths to achieve the same
intention. For example, two people might have helping the earth as an
intention. One could do it through the law, working with the nonpro t
Earthjustice; the other could do it through fashion, like Stella
McCartney, who has helped popularize vegan leather. In the next
chapter we’ll talk about tapping into the method and pursuit that ts
you best, but this example shows that if you lead with intention, then
you open up the options for how to reach your goal.
And, as we saw with the example of sailing around the globe, two
identical acts can have very di erent intentions behind them. Let’s say
two people give generous donations to the same charity. One does it
because she cares deeply about the charity, a broad intention, and the
other does it because he wants to network, a narrow intention. Both
donors are commended for their gifts. The one who truly wanted to
make a di erence feels happy and proud and a sense of meaning. The
one who wanted to network only cares whether he met anyone useful to
his career or social status. Their di erent intentions make no di erence
to the charity—the gifts do good in the world either way—but the
internal reward is completely di erent.
It should be said that no intentions are completely pure. My
charitable acts might be 88 percent intended to help people and 8
percent to feel good about myself and 4 percent to have fun with my
other charitable friends. There’s nothing intrinsically wrong with cloudy
or multifaceted intentions. We just need to remember that the less pure
they are, the less likely they are to make us happy, even if they make us
successful. When people gain what they want but aren’t happy at all, it’s
because they did it with the wrong intention.

LETTING GO TO GROW
The broadest intentions often drive e orts to help and support other
people. Parents working overtime to put food on the table for their
families. Volunteers devoting themselves to a cause. Workers who are
motivated to serve their customers. We sense these intentions from the
people we encounter, whether it’s the hairdresser who really wants to
nd a style that suits you or the doctor who takes the time to ask about
your life. Generous intentions radiate from people, and it’s a beautiful
thing. Time and again we see that if we’re doing it for the external result,
we won’t be happy. With the right intention, to serve, we can feel
meaning and purpose every day.
Living intentionally means stepping back from external goals, letting
go of outward de nitions of success, and looking within. Developing a
meditation practice with breathwork is a natural way to support this
intention. As you cleanse yourself of opinions and ideas that don’t make
sense with who you are and what you want, I recommend using
breathwork as a reminder to live at your own pace, in your own time.
Breathwork helps you understand that your way is unique—and that’s as
it should be.
 MEDITATION

BREATHE

The physical nature of breathwork helps drive distractions from

your head. Breathwork is calming, but it isn’t always easy. In fact,
the challenges it brings are part of the process.
I’m sitting on a floor of dried cow dung, which is surprisingly
cool. It’s not uncomfortable, but it’s not comfortable. My ankles hurt.
I can’t keep my back straight. God, I hate this, it’s so difficult. It’s
been twenty minutes and I still haven’t cleared my mind. I’m
supposed to be bringing awareness to my breath, but I’m thinking
about friends back in London. I sneak a peek at the monk closest to
me. He’s sitting up so straight. He’s nailing this meditation thing.
“Find your breath,” the leader is saying. I take a breath. It’s slow,
beautiful, calm.

Oh, wait. Oh okay. I’m becoming aware of my breath.

Breathing in… breathing out…
Oh I’m there…
Okay, this is cool…
This is interesting…
Okay.
This…
Works…
Wait, I’ve an itch on my back—
Breathing in… breathing out.
Calm.

My rst trip to the ashram was two weeks long, and I spent it
meditating with Gauranga Das every morning for two hours.
Sitting for that long, often much longer, is uncomfortable and
tiring and sometimes boring. What’s worse, unwanted thoughts
and feelings started drifting into my head. I worried that I wasn’t
sitting properly and that the monks would judge me. In my
frustration, my ego spoke up: I wanted to be the best meditator,
the smartest person at the ashram, the one who made an impact.
These weren’t monk-like thoughts. Meditation de nitely wasn’t
working the way I had thought it would. It was turning me into a
bad person!
I was shocked and, to be frank, disappointed to see all the
unresolved negativity inside myself. Meditation was only showing
me ego, anger, lust, pain—things I didn’t like about myself. Was
this a problem… or was it the point?
I asked my teachers if I was doing something wrong. One of
them told me that every year the monks meticulously cleaned the
Gundicha Temple in Puri, checking every corner, and that when
they did it, they visualized cleaning their hearts. He said that by
the time they nished, the temple was already getting dirty again.
That, he explained, is the feeling of meditation. It was work, and it
was never done.
Meditation wasn’t making me a bad person. I had to face an
equally unappealing reality. In all that stillness and quiet, it was
amplifying what was already inside me. In the dark room of my
mind, meditation had turned on the lights.
In getting you where you want to be, meditation may
show you what you don’t want to see.
Many people run from meditation because they nd it di cult
and unpleasant. In the Dhammapada the Buddha says, “As a sh
hooked and left on the sand thrashes about in agony, the mind
being trained in meditation trembles all over.” But the point of
meditation is to examine what makes it challenging. There is more
to it than closing your eyes for fteen minutes a day. It is the
practice of giving yourself space to re ect and evaluate.
 By now I’ve had many beautiful meditations. I’ve laughed, I’ve
cried, and my heart has felt more alive than I knew possible. The
calming, oating, quiet bliss comes eventually. Ultimately, the
process is as joyous as the results.

BREATHWORK FOR THE BODY AND MIND

As you’ve probably noticed, your breathing changes with your
emotions. We hold our breath when we’re concentrating, and we
take shallow breaths when we’re nervous or anxious. But these
responses are instinctive rather than helpful, meaning that to hold
your breath doesn’t really help your concentration, and shallow
breathing actually makes the symptoms of anxiety worse.
Controlled breathing, on the other hand, is an immediate way to
steady yourself, a portable tool you can use to shift your energy on
the y.
For millennia, yogis have practiced breathing techniques (called
prānāyāma) to do things like stimulate healing, raise energy, and
focus on the present moment. The Rig Veda describes breath as
the path beyond the self to consciousness. It states that breath is
“the life, like one’s own son,” or as Abbot George Burke (also
known as Swami Nirmalananda Giri) describes it, “the extension
of our inmost life.” In the Mahāsatipaṭṭhāna Sutta, the Buddha
described ānāpānasati (which roughly translated means
“mindfulness of breathing”) as a way to gain enlightenment.
Modern science backs up the e ectiveness of prānāyāma for
myriad e ects including improving cardiovascular health, lowering
overall stress, and even improving academic test performance. The
meditations I present here and elsewhere in the book are
universally used in therapy, coaching, and other meditation
practices throughout the world.
When you align with your breath, you learn to align with
yourself through every emotion—calming, centering, and de-
stressing yourself.
 Once or twice a day, I suggest setting aside time for breathwork.
Additionally, breathwork is such an e ective way to calm yourself
down that I use it, and suggest others use it, at points throughout
the day when you feel short of breath or that you’re holding your
breath. You don’t need to be in a relaxing space in order to
meditate (though it is obviously helpful and appropriate when
you are new to meditation). You can do it anywhere—in the
bathroom at a party, when getting on a plane, or right before you
make a presentation or meet with strangers.

TRY THIS: BREATHWORK

Here are powerful breathing patterns that I use every day. They can be
used as needed to either induce focus or increase calm.
BREATHWORK PREPARATION
For the calming and energizing breathing exercises I describe below,
begin your practice with the following steps.

1. Find a comfortable position—sitting in a chair, sitting upright with a

cushion, or lying down
2. Close your eyes
3. Lower your gaze (yes, you can do this with your eyes closed)
4. Make yourself comfortable in this position
5. Roll back your shoulders
6. Bring your awareness to

Calm
Balance
Ease
Stillness
Peace

Whenever your mind wanders just gently and softly bring it back to

Calm
Balance
Ease
Stillness
Peace

7. Now become aware of your natural breathing pattern. Don’t force or

pressure your breath, just become aware of your natural breathing
pattern.
At the ashram we were taught to use diaphragmatic breathing. To
do so, place one hand on your stomach and the other on your chest,
 and:

Breathe in through your nose, and out through your mouth

When you inhale, feel your stomach expand (as opposed to your
chest)
When you exhale, feel your stomach contract
Continue this in your own pace, at your own time
When you inhale, feel that you are taking in positive, uplifting energy
When you exhale, feel that you are releasing any negative, toxic
energy

8. Lower your left ear to your left shoulder as you breathe in… and bring
it back to the middle as you breathe out.
9. Lower your right ear to your right shoulder as you breathe in… and
bring it back to the middle as you breathe out.
10. Really feel the breath, with no rush or force, in your own pace, at your
own time

Breathe to calm and relax yourself

Do this after you’ve done the breathwork preparation above:

Breathe in for a count of 4 through your nose in your own time at

your own pace
Hold for a count of 4
Exhale for a count of 4 through your mouth

Do this for a total of ten breaths.

Breathe for energy and focus (kapalabhati)
Do this after you’ve done the breathwork preparation above:

Breathe in through your nose for a count of 4

Then exhale powerfully through your nose for less than a second
(You will feel a sort of engine pumping in your lungs.)
Breathe in again through your nose for a count of 4

Do this for a total of ten breaths.

Breathe for sleep

Breathe in for 4 seconds

Exhale for longer than 4 seconds

Do this until you are asleep or close to it.

PART TWO

GROW
 FIVE

PURPOSE
The Nature of the Scorpion

When you protect your dharma, your dharma

protects you.
—Manusmriti 8:15

From the outside, being a monk looks like it’s fundamentally

about letting go: the baldness, the robes, stripping away
distractions. In fact, the asceticism was less a goal than it was a
means to an end. Letting go opened our minds.
We spent our days in service; which was also designed to
expand our minds. In the course of this service, we weren’t
supposed to gravitate to our favorite ways to serve, but rather to
help out wherever and however it was needed. To experience and
emphasize our willingness and exibility, we rotated through
various chores and activities instead of choosing roles and
becoming specialists: cooking, cleaning, gardening, caring for the
cows, meditating, studying, praying, teaching, and so on. It took
some work for me to truly see all activities as equal—I much
preferred to study than to clean up after the cows—but we were
told to see society as the organs of a body. No one organ was more
important than another; all of them worked in concert, and the
body needed them all.
In spite of this equitable coexistence, it became clear that each
of us had natural a nities. One might be drawn to tending the
animals (not me!), another might take pleasure in cooking (again,
not me, I’m an eat-to-live kind of guy), another might get great
satisfaction from gardening. We undertook such a breadth of
activities that, although we didn’t indulge our particular passions,
we could observe and re ect on where they lay. We could
experiment with new skills, study them, see how improving them
made us feel. What did we like? What felt natural and ful lling?
Why?
If something, like cleaning up after the cows, made me
uncomfortable, instead of turning away, I pushed myself to
understand the feelings that lay at the root of my discomfort. I
quickly identi ed my hatred for some of the most mundane
chores as an ego issue. I thought them a waste of time when I
could be learning. Once I admitted this to myself, I could explore
whether cleaning had anything to o er me. Could I learn from a
mop? Practice Sanskrit verse while planting potatoes? In the
course of my chores, I observed that mop heads need to be
completely exible in order to get into every space and corner. Not
every task is best served by something sturdy like a broom. To my
monk mind, there was a worthwhile lesson in that: We need
exibility in order to access every corner of study and growth.
When it came to planting potatoes, I found that the rhythm of it
helped me remember verse, while the verse brought excitement to
the potatoes.
Exploring our strengths and weaknesses in the self-contained
universe of the ashram helped lead each of us to our dharma.
Dharma, like many Sanskrit terms, can’t be de ned by a single
English word, though to say something is “your calling” comes
close. My de nition of dharma is an e ort to make it practical to
our lives today. I see dharma as the combination of varna and seva.
Think of varna (also a word with complex meanings) as passion
and skills. Seva is understanding the world’s needs and sel essly
serving others. When your natural talents and passions (your
varna) connect with what the universe needs (seva) and become
your purpose, you are living in your dharma.
 When you spend your time and energy living in your dharma,
you have the satisfaction of using your best abilities and doing
something that matters to the world. Living in your dharma is a
certain route to ful llment.
In the rst part of this book we talked about becoming aware of
and letting go of the in uences and distractions that divert us
from a ful lling life. Now we’ll rebuild our lives around our
guiding values and deepest intentions. This growth begins with
dharma.
Two monks were washing their feet in a river when one of them
realized that a scorpion was drowning in the water. He
immediately picked it up and set it upon the bank. Though he was
quick, the scorpion stung his hand. He resumed washing his feet.
The other monk said, “Hey, look. That foolish scorpion fell right
back in.” The rst monk leaned over, saved the scorpion again, and
was again stung. The other monk asked him, “Brother, why do
you rescue the scorpion when you know its nature is to sting?”
“Because,” the monk answered, “to save it is my nature.”
The monk is modeling humility—he does not value his own
pain above the scorpion’s life. But the more relevant lesson here is
that “to save” is so essential to this monk’s nature that he is
compelled and content to do it even knowing the scorpion will
sting him. The monk has so much faith in his dharma that he is
willing to su er in order to ful ll it.

DISCOVERING DHARMA
It is my first summer at the ashram. I’ve cleaned bathrooms, cooked
potato curry, harvested cabbages. I’ve washed my own clothes by
hand, which is not an easy chore—our robes have as much material
as bedsheets, and to scrub out food or grass stains would have
qualified as a CrossFit workout of the day.
One day I’m scrubbing pots with the gusto of an overeager
apprentice when a senior monk comes up to me.
 “We’d like you to lead a class this week,” he says. “The topic is this
verse from the Gita: ‘Whatever action is performed by a great man,
common men follow in his footsteps, and whatever standards he sets
by exemplary acts, all the world pursues.’ ”
I agree to do it, and as I return to scrubbing I think about what
I’ll say. I understand the basic gist of the scripture—we teach by
example. It taps into my understanding that who you are is not what
you say, but how you behave—and it reminds me of a quote often
attributed to Saint Francis of Assisi: “Preach the Gospel at all times.
When necessary, use words.”
Many of the other monks, like me, didn’t enter the ashram at age
five. They’ve been to mainstream schools, had girlfriends and
boyfriends, watched TV and movies. They won’t have trouble
grasping the meaning of the verse, but I’m excited to figure out how I
can make it feel fresh and relevant to their experiences outside the
ashram.
The aging computers in our library have an excruciatingly slow
internet connection. I’m in India, in the middle of nowhere, and it
seems like every image takes an hour to download. After having
done research on the speedy computers of a college library, I find the
wait painful. But I know that, over in the kitchen, my fellow monks
are patiently waiting for water to boil. As they’re doing, I try to
respect the process.
During my research, I become fascinated by the psychology of
communication. I find studies by Albert Mehrabian showing that
55 percent of our communication is conveyed by body language, 38
percent is tone of voice, and a mere 7 percent is the actual words we
speak. (That’s a general guideline, but even in situations where those
percentages shift, the fact remains that most of our communication is
nonverbal.) I lose myself in exploring how we convey our messages
and values, analyzing the communication styles of various leaders,
and figuring out how it all adds up to be relevant in our lives.
Among others, I read about Jane Goodall, who never intended to
become a leader. She first entered the wilds of Tanzania to study
chimpanzees in 1960, but her research and ongoing work have
significantly redefined conservation, attracted women to her field,
and inspired hundreds of thousands of young people to get involved
in conservation.
Our class gathers in a medium-sized room. I take my place on an
elevated, cushioned seat, and the students sit on cushions in front of
me. I don’t see myself as above them in any way, except for my
elevated seat. We monks have already learned that everyone is
always simultaneously a student and a teacher.
When I finish giving my talk, I’m pleased with how it’s gone. I
enjoyed sharing the ideas as much as I enjoyed researching them.
People thank me, telling me that they appreciated the examples and
how I made the ancient verse feel relevant. One or two ask me how I
prepared—they’ve noticed how much work I put into it. As I bask in
the glow of my satisfaction and their appreciation, I am beginning to
realize my dharma—studying, experimenting with knowledge, and
speaking.
Everyone has a psychophysical nature which determines where
they ourish and thrive. Dharma is using this natural inclination,
the things you’re good at, your thrive mode, to serve others. You
should feel passion when the process is pleasing and your
execution is skillful. And the response from others should be
positive, showing that your passion has a purpose. This is the
magic formula for dharma.
Passion + Expertise + Usefulness = Dharma.
If we’re only excited when people say nice things about our
work, it’s a sign that we’re not passionate about the work itself.
And if we indulge our interests and skills, but nobody responds to
them, then our passion is without purpose. If either piece is
missing, we’re not living our dharma.
When people fantasize about what they want to do and who
they want to be, they don’t often investigate fully enough to know
if it suits their dharma. People think they want to be in nance
because they know it’s lucrative. Or they want to be a doctor
because it’s respected and honorable. But they move forward with
no idea whether those professions suit them—if they will like the
process, the environment, and the energy of the work, or whether
they’re any good at it.

EVERYTHING YOU ARE

There are two lies some of us hear when we’re growing up. The
rst is “You’ll never amount to anything.” The second is “You can
be anything you want to be.” The truth is—
You can’t be anything you want.
But you can be everything you are.
A monk is a traveler, but the journey is inward, bringing us ever
closer to our most authentic, con dent, powerful self. There is no
need to embark on an actual Year-in-Provence-type quest to nd
your passion and purpose, as if it’s a treasure buried in some
distant land, waiting to be discovered. Your dharma is already with
you. It’s always been with you. It’s woven into your being. If we
keep our minds open and curious, our dharmas announce
themselves.
Even so, it can take years of exploration to uncover our dharma.
One of our biggest challenges in today’s world is the pressure to
perform big, right now. Thanks to the early successes of folks like
Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg and Snapchat cofounder
Evan Spiegel (who became the youngest billionaire in the world at
age twenty-four), along with celebs such as Chance the Rapper
and Bella Hadid, many of us feel that if we haven’t found our
calling and risen to the top in our elds in our twenties, we’ve
failed.
Putting all of this pressure on people to achieve early is not
only stressful, it can actually hinder success. According to Forbes
magazine publisher Rich Karlgaard, in his book Late Bloomers, the
majority of us don’t hit our stride quite so early, but society’s
focus on academic testing, getting into the “right” colleges, and
developing and selling an app for millions before you even get
your degree (if you don’t drop out to run your multimillion-dollar
company) is causing high levels of anxiety and depression not only
among those who haven’t conquered the world by age twenty-
four, but even among those who’ve already made a signi cant
mark. Many early achievers feel tremendous pressure to maintain
that level of performance.
But, as Karlgaard points out, there are plenty of fantastically
successful people who hit their strides later in life: The Bluest Eye,
Toni Morrison’s rst novel, wasn’t published until she was thirty-
nine. And after a ten-year stint in college and time spent working
as a ski instructor, Dietrich Mateschitz was forty before he created
blockbuster energy drink company Red Bull. Pay attention,
cultivate self-awareness, feed your strengths, and you will nd your
way. And once you discover your dharma, pursue it.

OTHER PEOPLE’S DHARMA

The Bhagavad Gita says that it’s better to do one’s own dharma
imperfectly than to do another’s perfectly. Or, as Steve Jobs put it
in his 2005 Stanford commencement address, “Your time is
limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life.”
 In his autobiography, Andre Agassi dropped a bombshell on
the world: The former world’s number one tennis player, eight-
time grand slam champion, and gold medal winner didn’t like
tennis. Agassi was pushed into playing by his father, and though he
was incredible at the game, he hated playing. The fact that he was
tremendously successful and made loads of money didn’t matter;
it wasn’t his dharma. However, Agassi has transitioned his on-
court success into his true passion—instead of serving aces, he’s
now serving others. Along with providing other basic services for
children in his native Nevada, the Andre Agassi Foundation runs a
K-12 college preparatory school for at-risk youth.
Our society is set up around strengthening our weaknesses
rather than building our strengths. In school, if you get three As
and a D, all the adults around you are focused on that D. Our
grades in school, scores on standardized tests, performance
reviews, even our self-improvement e orts—all highlight our
insu ciencies and urge us to improve them. But what happens if
we think of those weaknesses not as our failures but as someone
else’s dharma? Sister Joan Chittister, a Benedictine nun, wrote, “It
is trust in the limits of the self that makes us open and it is trust in
the gifts of others that makes us secure. We come to realize that we
don’t have to do everything, that we can’t do everything, that what
I can’t do is someone else’s gift and responsibility.… My limitations
make space for the gifts of other people.” Instead of focusing on
our weaknesses, we lean into our strengths and look for ways to
make them central in our lives.
Here are two important caveats: First, following your dharma
doesn’t mean you get a free pass. When it comes to skills, you
should lean into your strengths. But if your weaknesses are
emotional qualities like empathy, compassion, kindness, and
generosity, you should never stop developing them. There’s no
point in being a tech wizard if you’re not compassionate. You
don’t get to be a jerk just because you’re skilled.
 Second, a bad grade in school doesn’t mean you get to ditch the
subject altogether. We have to be careful not to confuse
inexperience with weakness. Some of us live outside our dharma
because we haven’t gured out what it is. It is important to
experiment broadly before we reject options, and much of this
experimentation is done in school and elsewhere when we’re
young.
My own dharma emerged from some experiences I found
extremely unpleasant. Before I taught that class at the ashram, I
had a distaste for public speaking. When I was seven or eight years
old, I took part in a school assembly where kids shared their
cultural traditions. My mother dressed me as an Indian king,
wrapping me in an ill- tting sari-like getup that did nothing for
my awkward body. The minute I walked on stage, kids started to
laugh. I can’t carry a tune for the life of me, and when I started to
sing a prayer in transliterated Sanskrit, they lost it. I wasn’t even
two minutes in, and ve hundred kids and all the teachers were
laughing at me. I forgot the lyrics and looked down at the sheet in
front of me, but I couldn’t read the words through my tears. My
teacher had to walk out onto the stage, put her arm around me,
and lead me away as everyone continued to laugh. It was
mortifying. From that moment, I hated the stage. Then, when I
was fourteen, my parents forced me to attend a public
speaking/drama afterschool program. Three hours, three times a
week, for four years gave me the skills to stand up on stage, but I
had nothing to talk about and took no pleasure in it. I was and still
am shy, but that public speaking course changed my life because
once that skill connected to my dharma, I ran with it.
After my rst summer at the ashram ended, I was not yet a full-
time monk. I returned to college and decided to try my hand at
teaching again. I set up an extracurricular club called “Think Out
Loud,” where every week people would come to hear me speak on
a philosophical, spiritual, and/or scienti c topic, and then we’d
discuss it. The topic for the rst meeting was “Material Problems,
Spiritual Solutions.” I planned to explore how as humans we
experience the same challenges, setbacks, and issues in life, and
how spirituality can help us nd the answer. Nobody showed up.
It was a small room, and when it stayed empty, I thought, What
can I learn from this? Then I carried on—I gave my talk to the
empty room with my full energy, because I felt the topic deserved
it. Ever since then I have been doing the same thing in one
medium or another—starting a conversation about who we are
and how we can nd solutions to our daily challenges.
For the next meeting of “Think Out Loud,” I did a better job
of distributing yers and posters, and about ten people showed up.
The topic for my second attempt was the same, “Material
Problems, Spiritual Solutions,” and I opened the discussion by
playing a clip of the comedian Chris Rock doing a bit about how
the pharmaceutical industry doesn’t really want to cure diseases—
it actually wants us to have a prolonged need for the medications
that it produces. I tied this to a discussion of how we are looking
for instant xes instead of doing the real work of growth. I’ve
always loved drawing from funny and contemporary examples to
relate monk philosophy to our daily lives. “Think Out Loud” did
just that every week for the next three years of college. By the time
I graduated, the club had grown to one hundred people and
become a weekly three-hour workshop.
We’ve all got a special genius inside of us, but it may not be on
the path that opens directly before us. There may be no visible
path at all. My dharma was not in one of the job tracks that were
common at my school but rather in the club that I founded there
after a chance assignment at the ashram hinted at my dharma. Our
dharmas don’t hide, but sometimes we need to work patiently to
recognize them. As researchers Anders Ericsson and Robert Pool
underscore in their book Peak, mastery requires deliberate
practice, and lots of it. But if you love it, you do it. Picasso
experimented with other forms of art but kept painting as his
focus. Michael Jordan did a stint at baseball, but basketball was
where he really thrived. Play hardest in your area of strength and
you’ll achieve depth, meaning, and satisfaction in your life.
 ALIGN WITH YOUR PASSION
In order to unveil our dharma, we have to identify our passions—
the activities we both love and are naturally inclined to do well. It’s
clear to anyone who looks at the Quadrants of Potential that we
should be spending as much time as possible at the upper right, in
Quadrant Two: doing things that we’re both good at and love. But
life doesn’t always work out that way. In fact, many of us nd
ourselves spending our careers in Quadrant One: working on
things that we’re good at, but don’t love. When we have time to
spare, we hop over to Quadrant Four to indulge the hobbies and
extracurriculars that we love, even though we never have enough
time to become as good at them as we would like. Everyone can
agree that we want to spend as little time as possible in Quadrant
Three. It’s super-depressing to hang out there, doing things we
don’t love and aren’t good at. So the question is: How can we
move more of our time toward Quadrant Two: doing things we
are good at and love? (You’ll notice that I don’t discuss the
quadrants in numerical order. This is because Quadrants One and
Four both o er half of what we want, so it makes sense to discuss
them rst.)

Quadrant One: Good at, but Don’t Love

Getting from here to Quadrant Two is easier said than done. Say
you don’t love your job. Most of us can’t just leap into a job we
love that miraculously comes with a generous salary. A more
practical approach is to nd innovative ways to move toward
Quadrant Two within the jobs that we already have. What can you
do to bring your dharma where you are?
When I rst left the ashram, I took a consulting job at
Accenture, a global management consulting rm. We were
constantly dealing with numbers, data, and nancial statements,
and it quickly became clear that a talent for Excel was essential in
order to excel in my position. But Excel was not my thing. In spite
of my e orts, I couldn’t force myself to get better at it. I just
wasn’t interested. As far as I was concerned, it was worse than
mucking out the cow stalls. So, while I continued to do my best, I
thought about how I could demonstrate what I was good at. My
passion was wisdom and tools for life like meditation and
mindfulness, so I o ered to teach a mindfulness class to my
working group. The lead managing director loved the idea, and the
class I gave was popular enough that she asked me to speak about
mindfulness and meditation at a company-wide summer event for
analysts and consultants. I would speak in front of a thousand
people at Twickenham Stadium, the home stadium of England’s
national rugby team.
When I got to the stadium, I found out that my turn at the
podium was sandwiched between words from the CEO and Will
Greenwood, a rugby legend. I sat in the audience listening to the
lineup, thinking Crap, everyone’s going to laugh at me. Why did I
agree to this? All the other speakers were at the top of their elds
and so articulate. I started to have second thoughts about what I
had planned to say and how to deliver it. Then I went through my
breathing exercises, calmed myself down, and two seconds before I
went on stage, I thought, Just be yourself. I would do my own
dharma perfectly instead of trying to do anyone else’s. I went up,
did my thing, and afterward the response couldn’t have been
better. The director who had organized it said, “I’ve never heard
an audience of consultants and analysts stay so quiet you could
hear a pin drop.” Later, she invited me to teach mindfulness all
across the company in the UK.
 This was a tipping point for me. I saw that I hadn’t just spent
three years of my life learning some weird monk-only philosophy
that was irrelevant outside the ashram. I could take all my skills
and put them into practice. I could actually ful ll my dharma in
the modern world. P.S. I still don’t know how to use Excel.
Instead of making a huge career change, you can try my
approach: look for opportunities to do what you love in the life
you already have. You never know where it might lead. Leonardo
DiCaprio hasn’t given up acting or producing, yet he also directs
signi cant energy toward environmental advocacy because it’s part
of his dharma. A corporate assistant might volunteer to do design
work; a bartender can run a trivia contest. I worked with a lawyer
whose true passion was to be a baker on The Great British Bake
Off. That goal felt unrealistic to her, so she got a group of her
colleagues obsessed with the show, and they started “Baking
Mondays,” where every Monday someone on her team brought in
something they’d made. She still worked just as hard and
performed well at a job that she found slightly tedious, but
bringing her passion to the water cooler made her team stronger
and made her feel more energized throughout the day. If you have
two kids and a mortgage and can’t quit your job, do as the lawyer
did and nd a way to bring the energy of your dharma into the
workplace, or look for ways to bring it into other aspects of your
life like your hobbies, home, and friendships.
Also, consider why you don’t love your strengths. Can you nd
a reason to love them? I often encounter people working corporate
jobs who have all the skills required to do good work, but they nd
the work meaningless. The best way to add meaning to an
experience is to look for how it might serve you in the future. If
you tell yourself: “I’m learning how to work in a global team,” or
“I’m getting all the budgeting skills I’ll need if I open a skate shop
one day,” then you can nurture a passion for something that may
not be your rst choice. Link the feeling of passion to the
experience of learning and growth.
 Psychologist Amy Wrzesniewski from the Yale School of
Management and colleagues studied hospital cleaning crews to
understand how they experienced their work. One crew described
the work as not particularly satisfying and not requiring much
skill. And when they explained the tasks they performed, it
basically sounded like the job description from the personnel
manual. But when the researchers talked to another cleaning crew,
they were surprised by what they heard. The second group enjoyed
their work, found it deeply meaningful, and described it as being
highly skilled. When they described their tasks, the reason for the
distinction between the crews started to become clear. The second
crew talked not just about typical custodial chores, but also about
noticing which patients seemed especially sad or had fewer visitors
and making a point to start a conversation or check in on them
more often. They related incidents where they escorted elderly
visitors through the parking structure so they wouldn’t get lost
(even though the custodians technically could have gotten red for
that). One woman said she periodically switched the pictures on
the walls among di erent rooms. When asked if this was part of
her job, she replied, “That’s not part of my job. But that’s part of
me.”
From this study and subsequent research, Wrzesniewski and
her colleagues created the phrase “job crafting” to describe “what
employees do to redesign their own jobs in ways that foster
engagement at work, job satisfaction, resilience, and thriving.”
According to the researchers, we can reengineer our tasks,
relationships, or even just how we perceive what we do (such as
custodians thinking of themselves as “healers” and
“ambassadors”). The intention with which we approach our work
has a tremendous impact on the meaning we gain from it and our
personal sense of purpose. Learn to nd meaning now, and it will
serve you all your life.

Quadrant Four: Not Good at, but Love

When our passions aren’t lucrative, we de-prioritize them. Then
we feel frustrated that we love an activity but can’t do it well or
frequently enough to fully enjoy it. The surest route to improving
skills is always time. Can you use coaching, take courses, or get
training to improve at what you love?
“Impossible,” you say. “If I had time to do that, believe me, I
would.” We will talk about how to nd nonexistent time in the
next chapter, but for now I will say this: Everyone has time. We
commute or we cook or we watch TV. We may not have three
hours, but we have ten minutes to listen to a podcast or learn a
new technique from a YouTube video. You can do a lot in ten
minutes.
Sometimes when we tap into our dharma, it carves out the time
for us. When I rst started making videos, I worked on them after
I got home from my corporate job. Five hours a day, ve days a
week, I focused on editing ve-minute videos. For a long time, the
return-on-investment was pitiful, but I wasn’t willing to write
myself o before trying to make the most of my skill.
In the years since, I’ve seen people monetize the weirdest
things. Spend any amount of time on Etsy, and you’ll be amazed at
how many people have found ways to make money o their
passions. However, if the world is sending you a very strong
message that it won’t pay for or does not otherwise need or want
your passion, then ne. Accept that. There’s a critical need for
soccer in the world, but there’s no need for me to play soccer. Still,
the soccer matches I organized at Accenture were the highlight of
my week. If it’s not your dharma, it can still give you joy.

Quadrant Three: Not Good at, Don’t Love

Do whatever you can to crawl out of this soul-sucking quadrant.

You will always have unpleasant chores, but they shouldn’t be the
biggest part of your life. If at all possible, you should work toward
outsourcing the chores in this category. Hurt the pocket, save the
mind. And remember, just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean
nobody likes it. Can you work out a trade with a friend or
colleague, where you take on each other’s least favorite tasks?
If you can’t o oad the chore, remember the lesson I learned at
the ashram—every task is an essential organ. None is less
important than the others, and none of us is too important to do
any chore. If you think you’re too good for something, you
succumb to the worst egotistical impulses, and you devalue anyone
who does that chore. When you’re satis ed in your dharma, you
can, without envy or ego, appreciate others who are good at
another skill. I have great respect for people who can do Excel, I
just don’t want to do it myself. When I encounter doctors or
soldiers or people in any number of other careers, I think, That’s
extraordinary. It’s amazing. But it’s not me.

TRY THIS: IDENTIFY YOUR QUADRANT OF

POTENTIAL
You may have been doing this exercise in your head as you read about
the Quadrants of Potential. Nonetheless, I want you to go through the
exercise of acknowledging how close you are to living your dharma
today.

Do you like your job?

Do you love your job?
Are you good at your job?
Do other people need and appreciate your work?
Is your greatest skill or passion outside your work?
What is it?
Do you dream of making it your work?
Do you think this is an attainable dream?
Do you think there might be ways you could bring your passion to
your work?
Write down any ideas you have for bringing your passion to the
universe.

Quadrant Two: Vedic Personality

We want to live in Quadrant Two, where we spend our time using

our talents to do what we love. If we aren’t there, we examine the
problem the monk way—instead of looking at speci c skills you’ve
developed and speci c activities that you love, we look beyond
them, to their roots. The Bhagavad Gita contemplates dharma by
dividing us into four personality types—what it calls varnas.
There are four varnas, and knowing your varna tells you your
nature and competence. In relatively recent history (during the
nineteenth century), when British leaders imposed their own rigid
class system on Indian society, the varnas emerged as the basis for
the caste system. Though castes—a hierarchy of job categories—
were based on the varnas, this is a misinterpretation of the text.
I’m not talking about the caste system here—I believe that all of us
are equal; we just have di erent talents and skills. My discussion of
the varnas is about how to harness these skills and talents to live to
your fullest potential. The di erent personality types are meant to
work together in a community, like the organs in a body—all
essential and none superior to the others.
Varnas aren’t determined by birth. They’re meant to help us
understand our true nature and inclinations. You’re not creative
just because your parents are.
No one varna is better than another. We all seek di erent types
of work, fun, love, and service. There is no hierarchy or
segregation. If two people are both acting in their best dharma,
living for the service of others, then neither is better than the
other. Is a cancer researcher better than a reman?

TRY THIS: THE VEDIC PERSONALITY TEST

This simple test is not an absolute determination of your personality
type, but it will help as you seek out your dharma.
See the appendix for The Vedic Personality Test.

THE VARNAS
The four varnas are the Guide, the Leader, the Creator, and the
Maker. These labels aren’t directly tied to speci c jobs or activities.
Sure, certain activities bring us pleasure because they ful ll our
dharma, but there are many di erent ways to live in our dharma. A
Guide, as you will see on page 112, is compelled to learn and share
knowledge—you could be a teacher or a writer. A Leader likes to
in uence and provide, but that doesn’t mean you have to be a
CEO or a lieutenant—you could be a school principal or shop
manager. A Creator likes to make things happen—this could be at
a start-up or in a neighborhood association. A Maker likes to see
things tangibly being built—they could be a coder or a nurse.

Remember the gunas: tamas, rajas, and sattva—ignorance,

impulsivity, and goodness. For each of the varnas I describe what
their behavior looks like in each guna mode. We strive toward
sattva through letting go of ignorance, working in our passion,
and serving in goodness. The more time we spend in sattva, the
more e ective and ful lled we become.

Creators

Originally: merchants, businesspeople

Today: marketers, salespeople, entertainers, producers,
entrepreneurs, CEOs
Skills: brainstorming, networking, innovating

Make things happen

Can convince themselves and others of anything
Great at sales, negotiation, persuasion
Highly driven by money, pleasure, and success
Very hardworking and determined
Excel in trade, commerce, and banking
 Always on the move
Work hard, play hard

Mode of Ignorance

Become corrupt and sell things with no value / Lie, cheat,

steal to sell something
Beaten down by failure
Burned out, depressed, moody, due to overwork

Mode of Impulse

Status-driven
Dynamic, charismatic, and captivating
Hustler, goal-oriented, tireless

Mode of Goodness

Use money for greater good

Create products and ideas that make money but also serve
others
Provide jobs and opportunities for others

Makers

Originally: artists, musicians, creatives, writers

Today: social workers, therapists, doctors, nurses, COOs, heads of
human resources, artists, musicians, engineers, coders,
carpenters, cooks
Skills: inventing, supporting, implementing

Mode of Ignorance

Depressed by failure
Feel stuck and unworthy
Anxious

Mode of Impulse

Explore and experiment with new ideas

Juggle too many things at the same time
 Lose focus on expertise and care; focus more on money and
results

Mode of Goodness

Driven by stability and security

Generally content and satis ed with the status quo
Choose meaningful goals to pursue
Work hard but always maintain balance with family
commitments
Best right-hand man or woman
Lead team gatherings
Support those in need
Highly skilled at manual professions
Connections
Makers and Creators complement each other
Makers make Creators focus on detail, quality, gratitude, and
contentment
Creators help Makers think bigger, become more goal-oriented

Guides

Originally and today: teachers, guides, gurus, coaches, mentors

Skills: learning, studying, sharing knowledge, and wisdom

A coach and a mentor no matter what role they play

Want to bring out the best in the people in their life
Value knowledge and wisdom more than fame, power,
money, security
Like having space and time to re ect and learn
Want to help people nd meaning, ful llment, and purpose
Like to work alone
Enjoy intellectual pursuits in their spare time—reading,
debate, discussion

Mode of Ignorance

Don’t practice what they preach

 Don’t lead by example
Struggle with implementation

Mode of Impulse

Love to debate and destroy others’ arguments

Use knowledge for strength and power
Intellectually curious

Mode of Goodness

Use knowledge to help people nd their purpose

Aspire to better themselves in order to give more
Realize knowledge is not theirs to use alone, but that they
are here to serve

Leaders

Originally: kings, warriors

Today: military, justice, law enforcement, politics
Skills: governing, inspiring, engaging others

Natural leaders of people, movements, groups, and families

Directed by courage, strength, and determination
Protect those who are less privileged
Led by higher morals and values and seek to enforce them
across the world
Provide structures and frameworks for the growth of people
Like to work in teams
Great at organization, focus, and dedication to a mission

Mode of Ignorance

Give up on change due to corruption and hypocrisy

Develop a negative, pessimistic viewpoint
Lose moral compass in drive for power

Mode of Impulse

Build structures and frameworks for fame and money, not

meaning
 Use their talents to serve themselves not humanity
Focus on short term goals for themselves

Mode of Goodness

Fight for higher morals, ethics, and values

Inspire people to work together
Build long-term goals to support society
Connections
Guides and Leaders complement each other
Guides give wisdom to Leaders
Leaders give structure to Guides
The point of the varnas is to help you understand yourself so you
can focus on your strongest skills and inclinations. Self-awareness
gives you more focus. When I look at my Guide tendencies, it
makes sense to me that I succeed when I focus on strategy.
Creators and Makers are better at implementation, so I’ve
surrounded myself with people who can help me with that. A
musician might be a Maker, driven by security. In order to
succeed, they might need to be surrounded by strategists. Invest in
your strengths and surround yourself with people who can ll in
the gaps.
When you know your varna—your passion and skills—and
you serve with that, it becomes your dharma.

TRY THIS: REFLECTED BEST-SELF EXERCISE

1. Choose a group of people who know you well—a diverse mix of
people you’ve worked with, family, and friends. As few as three will
work, but ten to twenty is even better.
2. Ask them to write down a moment when you were at your best. Ask
them to be specific.
3. Look for patterns and common themes.
4. Write out a profile of yourself, aggregating the feedback as if it
weren’t about you.
5. Think about how you can turn your best skills into action. How can
you use those skills this weekend? In different circumstances or with
different people?
 TEST-DRIVE YOUR DHARMA
The Vedic Personality Test helps you begin to see your varna, but
just like a horoscope, it can’t tell you what’s going to happen
tomorrow. It’s up to you to test these varnas in the real world
through exploration and experimentation. If your varna is Leader,
try to take on that role at work, or by organizing your kid’s
birthday party. Do you genuinely take joy in the process?
Think about the level of awareness we have when we eat
something. We immediately do a sense check and decide if we like
it, and we wouldn’t have trouble rating it on a scale of one to ten if
asked to do so. Furthermore, we might have di erent feelings
about it the next day. (When I have my favorite chocolate brownie
sundae on a Sunday night, I feel pretty happy about it, but by
Monday morning I no longer think it was the best thing in the
world to put in my body.) With both immediate and long-term
re ection, we form nuanced opinions about whether we want to
make that food part of our regular diet. All of us do this with food,
we do it when we leave a movie theater (“Did you like it?”), and
some of us do it on Yelp. But we don’t think to measure our
compatibility with and taste for how we spend our time. When we
get in the habit of identifying what empowers us, we have a better
understanding of ourselves and what we want in life. This is
exactly what we’re going to do to re ne our understanding of our
varna.
The rst and most critical question to ask when you’re
exploring your varna is:
Did I enjoy the process?

TRY THIS: KEEP AN ACTIVITY JOURNAL

Take note of every activity you take part in through the course of a few
days. Meetings, walking the dog, lunch with a friend, writing emails,
preparing food, exercising, spending time on social media. For every
activity, answer the two questions fundamental to dharma: Did I enjoy
the process? Did other people enjoy the result? There are no right or
wrong answers. This is an observation exercise to amplify your
awareness.
 Test the description of your varna against your experience to
pinpoint what you enjoyed about it. Instead of saying, “I love
taking pictures,” nd the root of it. Do you like helping families
put together a Christmas card that makes them proud? (Guide)
Do you like to document human struggles or other meaningful
situations in order to promote change? (Leader) Or do you love
the technical aspects of lighting, focus, and developing lm?
(Maker) As monks, every time we completed an activity or
thought exercise like the ones in this book, we asked ourselves
questions: What did I like about that? Am I good at it? Do I want
to read about it, learn about it, and spend a lot of my time doing it?
Am I driven to improve? What made me feel comfortable or
uncomfortable? If I was uncomfortable, was it in a positive way—a
challenge that made me grow—or a negative way? This awareness
gives us a much more nuanced view of where we thrive. Instead of
sending us on one and only one path, that awareness opens us to
new ways we can put our passions to use.

EMBRACE YOUR DHARMA

Our heads might try to convince us that we’ve only ever made the
best choices, but our true nature—our passion and purpose—isn’t
in our heads, it’s in our hearts. In fact, our heads often get in the
way of our passions. Here are some of the excuses that we use to
close our minds:

“I’m too old to start my own business.”

“It would be irresponsible of me to make this change.”
“I can’t a ord to do this.”
“I already know that.”
“I’ve always done it this way.”
“That way won’t work for me.”
“I don’t have time.”
 Past beliefs, false or self-deceiving, sneak in to block our
progress. Fears prevent us from trying new things. Our egos get in
the way of learning new information and opening ourselves to
growth. (More on this in Chapter Eight.) And nobody ever has
time for change. But miracles happen when you embrace your
dharma.
Growing up, Joseph Campbell had no model of a career that t
his diverse interests. As a child in the early 1900s, he became
fascinated by Native American culture and studied everything he
could about it. During college, he became entranced with the
rituals and symbols of Catholicism. While studying abroad, his
interests expanded to include the theories of Jung and Freud, and
he developed an interest in modern art. Back at Columbia,
Campbell told his dissertation advisors that he wanted to blend
ancient stories about the Holy Grail with ideas in art and
psychology. They rejected that idea. He abandoned work on his
thesis and in 1949 found a job teaching literature at Sarah
Lawrence College, which he held for thirty-eight years.
Meanwhile, he published hundreds of books and articles, and did
a deep dive into ancient Indian mythology and philosophy. But it
was in The Hero with a Thousand Faces that he rst discussed his
groundbreaking ideas about what he called “the hero’s journey”—
a concept that established Campbell as one of the foremost
authorities on mythology and the human psyche. As someone
who followed his dharma, it’s no surprise that Joseph Campbell is
the original source of the advice “Follow your bliss.” He wrote,
“Now, I came to this idea of bliss because in Sanskrit, which is the
great spiritual language of the world, there are three terms that
represent the brink, the jumping-o place to the ocean of
transcendence: Sat, Chit, Ananda. The word ‘Sat’ means being.
‘Chit’ means consciousness. ‘Ananda’ means bliss or rapture. I
thought, ‘I don’t know whether my consciousness is proper
consciousness or not; I don’t know whether what I know of my
being is my proper being or not; but I do know where my rapture
is. So let me hang on to rapture, and that will bring me both my
consciousness and my being.’ I think it worked.” If you follow
your bliss, he said, “doors will open for you that wouldn’t have
opened for anyone else.”
Protective instincts hold us back or steer us toward practical
decisions (Campbell did teach literature for thirty-eight years), but
we can see past them and follow our dharma if we know what to
look for.

DHARMA IS OF THE BODY

Instead of listening to our minds, we must pay attention to how
an idea or activity feels in our bodies. First, when you visualize
yourself in a process, do you feel joy? Does the idea of it appeal to
you? Then, when you actually do the activity, how does your body
respond? When you’re in your element, you can feel it.

1. Alive. For some people, being in their dharma means they

feel a calm, con dent satisfaction. For others, there is a thrill
of joy and excitement. In either case, you feel alive,
connected, with a smile on your face. A light comes on.
2. Flow. In dharma, there is a natural momentum. You feel like
you’re in your lane, swimming with the current, instead of
struggling through a resistant surf. When you are truly
aligned, there is a sense of ow—you come out of your own
head and lose track of time.
3. Comfort. In your dharma, you don’t feel alone or out of
place, no matter who comes or goes or where you are
physically; where you are feels right, even if the place where
you feel right is traveling the world. I don’t like the feeling of
danger, but I have a friend who loves fast cars and Jet Skis.
The danger—the worst-case scenario—is the same for both
of us, but for him it is worth it, or the danger itself is a joy.
On stage, I’m in my element, but someone else would shut
down.
 4. Consistency. If you have a great time snorkeling on vacation,
that doesn’t mean snorkeling, or being on vacation for that
matter, is your dharma. Being in your dharma bears
repeating. In fact, it gets better the more you do it. But a
single event is a clue to what energy you like, when and how
you feel alive.
5. Positivity and growth. When we’re aware of our own
strengths, we’re more con dent, we value others’ abilities
more, and we feel less competitive. The inclination to
compare yourself to others may not go away completely, but
it shrinks because you only compare yourself to people
within your area of expertise. Rejection and criticism don’t
feel like assaults. They feel like information that we can
accept or reject, depending on whether they help us move
forward.

DHARMA IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY

Once you have a sense of your dharma, it’s up to you to set up
your life so that you can live it. We’re not always going to be in a
place or a situation where others recognize our dharma and bend
over backward to help us ful ll it. As we all have experienced at
one time or another, bosses don’t always tap into their employees’
potential. If you’re reading this chapter thinking My manager
needs to understand dharma—then she’ll give me the promotion,
you’ve missed the point. We will never live in an idyllic world
where everyone constantly lives their dharma, with occasional
pauses for their bosses to call and ask if they’re truly ful lled.
It is our responsibility to demonstrate and defend our dharma.
The Manusmriti says that dharma protects those who protect it.
Dharma brings you stability and peace. When we have the
con dence to know where we thrive, we nd opportunities to
demonstrate that. This creates a feedback loop. When you
safeguard your dharma, you constantly strive to be in a place
where you thrive. When you thrive, people notice, and you reap
rewards that help you stay in your dharma. Your dharma protects
your joy and your sense of purpose and helps you grow.

STRETCH YOUR DHARMA

A person who isn’t living their dharma is like a sh out of water.
You can give the sh all the riches in the world, but it will die
unless it’s returned to the water. Once you discover your dharma,
strive to play that role in every aspect of your life. Follow your
passion in the workplace. Take up community issues using the
same skill set. Be in your dharma with your family, in sports, in
relationships, during days out with friends. If my dharma is to be a
leader, I’m probably the one who should be planning the family
holidays. I will feel meaning in that role. But if I’m a leader and
I’m not playing that role, I’ll feel insigni cant and frustrated.
Perhaps you are thinking, Jay, it makes no sense to stick to your
dharma. Everyone knows that you should push yourself. Try new
things. Venture out of your comfort zone. Though your dharma is
your natural state, its range is further than your comfort zone. For
instance, if your dharma is to be a speaker, you can go from an
audience of ten to an audience of a hundred, scaling the size of
your impact. If you speak to students, you can start speaking to
CEOs.
It’s also important to stretch your dharma. I’m not the most
outgoing person in the world, but I go to events and meetings
because I know connecting with people serves my purpose. Going
against your dharma is a bit like roller skating. You feel o -balance,
slightly out of control, and exhausted afterward. But the more you
understand yourself, the more solid your footing. You can
consciously skate o in a new direction for a higher purpose.
Understanding your dharma is key to knowing when and how to
leave it behind.
Our dharmas evolve with us. A British expat, Emma Slade,
lived in Hong Kong, where she worked as an investor for a global
bank managing accounts worth more than a billion dollars. “I
loved it,” says Slade. “It was fast, it was exciting.… I ate balance
sheets for breakfast.” Then in September 1997, Slade was on a
business trip in Jakarta, Indonesia, when an armed man pushed a
gun into her chest, robbed her, and held her hostage in her hotel
room. She says that as she lay cowering on the oor, she learned
the value of a human life. Fortunately, police arrived before Slade
was physically harmed. Later, when police o cers showed her a
photograph of the man slumped against the hotel wall surrounded
by spatters of blood, Slade was shocked to feel sadness and
compassion for him. That feeling stuck with her and led her to
pursue the question of her real purpose.
Slade quit her job and began exploring yoga and the nature of
mind. In 2011, she traveled to Bhutan, where she met a monk who
left an indelible impression on her (been there!). In 2012, she
became a Buddhist nun, and Slade (now also known as Pema
Deki) felt she’d nally found peace. Yet that feeling of compassion
she’d felt for the man who attacked her returned, and Slade
realized she needed to do something to put her compassion into
action. So in 2015 she founded a UK-based charity called Opening
Your Heart to Bhutan, which seeks to meet the basic needs of
people in rural areas of East Bhutan. Though she found
ful llment in becoming a nun, it was never her dharma to sit in a
cave and meditate for the rest of her life. She now deploys her
nancial acumen in a way that serves herself and others more
richly. Says Slade, “The skills of old have been very useful in
bringing me now a very meaningful and happy life.” Slade
compares her experience to the lotus ower, which begins in the
mud then grows upward through the water as it seeks light. In
Buddhism, the lotus represents the idea that the mud and muck of
life’s challenges can provide fertile ground for our development.
As the lotus grows, it rises through the water to eventually
blossom. The Buddha says, “Just like a red, blue, or white lotus—
born in the water, grown in the water, rising up above the water—
stands unsmeared by the water, in the same way I—born in the
world, grown in the world, having overcome the world—live
unsmeared by the world.”
“Jakarta was my mud,” Slade says in her TEDx Talk, “but it was
also the seed of my future development.”

Remember the whole equation of dharma. Dharma isn’t just

passion and skills. Dharma is passion in the service of others. Your
passion is for you. Your purpose is for others. Your passion
becomes a purpose when you use it to serve others. Your dharma
has to ll a need in the world. As I’ve said, monks believe that you
should be willing to do whatever is needed when there’s a higher
purpose (and monks live this fully), but if you’re not a monk the
way to see it is that the pleasure you feel in doing your passion
should equal how much others appreciate it. If others don’t think
you’re e ective, then your passion is a hobby, which can add
richness to your life.
This doesn’t mean every activity outside your dharma is a waste
of time. For all of us there are activities in life that are competence-
building and activities that are character-building. When I was
rst asked to give talks, I built competence in my dharma. But
when I was asked to take out the trash, it built my character. To
build your competence without regard for character is narcissistic,
and to build character without working on skills is devoid of
impact. We need to work on both in order to serve our souls and a
higher purpose.

Knowing your purpose and ful lling it is easier and more fruitful
when you use your time and energy wisely every day. In the next
chapter we will talk about how to get the best start to your day and
how to follow through from there.
 SIX

ROUTINE
Location Has Energy; Time Has Memory

Every day, think as you wake up, today I am

fortunate to be alive, I have a precious human life, I
am not going to waste it.
—the Dalai Lama

There are twelve of us, maybe more, sleeping on the floor, each on a
thin yoga-type pad, covered by a simple sheet. The walls of the room
are made of packed cow dung that feels like rough plaster and gives
the place a not-unpleasant earthy smell. The unfinished stone floors
are worn smooth, but a far cry from memory foam. There are no
finished windows in this building—we’re in an interior room that
keeps us dry in the rainy season and has plenty of doors for
ventilation.
Although I sleep here every night, there is no particular space that
I consider “mine.” We steer clear of ownership here—no possessions,
no material attachments. Right now the room is dark as a cave, but
from the tenor of the birds outside, our bodies know that it’s 4 a.m.—
time to wake up. We’re due at collective prayers in half an hour.
Without speaking a word, we move to the locker room, some of us
showering, some of us pulling on our robes. We wait in line to brush
our teeth at one of the four communal sinks. No one from the outside
world is witness to our activity, but if they were, they would see a
group of seemingly well-rested men, all of whom appear perfectly
content to be getting up at this early hour.
It wasn’t always that easy. Every morning my brain, desperate to
remain shut down just a little bit longer, thought of a di erent
excuse for why I should sleep in. But I pushed myself to adopt this
new routine because I was committed to the process. The fact that
it was hard was an important part of the journey.
Eventually, I learned the one infallible trick to successfully
getting up earlier: I had to go to sleep earlier. That was it. I’d spent
my entire life pushing the limits of each day, sacri cing tomorrow
because I didn’t want to miss out on today. But once I nally let
that go and started going to sleep earlier, waking up at four became
easier and easier. And as it became easier, I found that I could do it
without the help of anyone or anything besides my own body and
the natural world around it.
This was a revelatory experience for me. I realized I had never in
my life begun my day without being startled in one way or
another. When I was a teenager, my morning summons came in
the form of my mother screaming “Jay, wake up!” from
downstairs. In later years, an alarm clock performed the same
thankless task. Every day of my life had begun with a sudden,
jarring intrusion. Now, however, I was waking up to the sounds of
birds, trees rustling in the wind, a stream of water. I woke to the
sounds of nature.
At last I came to understand the value in it. The point of
waking up early wasn’t to torture us—it was to start the day o
with peace and tranquility. Birds. A gong. The sound of owing
water. And our morning routine never varied. The simplicity and
structure of ashram mornings spared us from the stressful
complexity of decisions and variation. Starting our days so simply
was like a mental shower. It cleansed us of the challenges of the
previous day, giving us the space and energy to transform greed
into generosity, anger into compassion, loss into love. Finally, it
gave us resolve, a sense of purpose to carry out into the day.
 In the ashram, every detail of our life was designed to facilitate
the habit or ritual we were trying to practice. For example, our
robes: When we rose, we never had to think about what to wear.
Like Steve Jobs, Barack Obama, and Arianna Hu ngton, all of
whom have been known to have their own basic uniforms, monks
simplify their clothing so as not to waste energy and time on
dressing for the day. We each had two sets of robes—one to wear
and one to wash. In similar fashion, the early morning wake-up
was designed to launch the day in the right spirit. It was an
ungodly hour, yet it was spiritually enlightening.
I would never wake up that early, you may be thinking. I can’t
think of a worse way to start the day. I understand that perspective
since I used to feel the same way! But let’s take a look at how most
people currently start their day: sleep researchers say 85 percent of
us need an alarm clock to wake up for work. When we wake up
before our bodies are ready, the hormone melatonin, which helps
to regulate sleep, is usually still at work, which is one of the reasons
we grope for the snooze button.
Unfortunately, our productivity-driven society encourages us
to live like this. Maria Popova, a writer who’s best known as the
curator of Brain Pickings, writes, “We tend to wear our ability to
get by on little sleep as some sort of badge of honor that validates
our work ethic. But what it is is a profound failure of self-respect
and of priorities.”
Then, once we’ve woken up after too little sleep, nearly a
quarter of us do something else that starts us out on the second
wrong foot of the day—we reach for our cell phones within one
minute of waking up. Over half of us are checking messages within
ten minutes. A majority of people go from out cold to processing
mountains of information within minutes every morning.
There are only six cars that can go from zero to sixty miles per
hour in under two seconds. Like most cars, humans are not built
for that kind of sudden transition, mentally or physically. And the
last thing you need to do when you’ve just woken up is to stumble
straight into tragedy and pain courtesy of news headlines or
friends venting about gridlock on their commute. Looking at your
phone rst thing in the morning is like inviting one hundred
chatty strangers into your bedroom before you’ve showered,
brushed your teeth, xed your hair. Between the alarm clock and
the world inside your phone, you’re immediately overwhelmed
with stress, pressure, anxiety. Do you really expect yourself to
emerge from that state and have a pleasant, productive day?
In the ashram, we started each morning in the spirit of the day
we planned to have, and we trained ourselves to sustain that
deliberateness and focus all day long. Sure, that’s all ne and good
if your daily schedule involves prayer, meditation, study, service,
and chores, but the outside world is more complex.

EARLY TO RISE
Here is my rst recommendation: Wake up one hour earlier than
you do now. “No way!” you say. “Why would I want to wake up
any earlier than I do right now? I don’t get enough sleep as it is.
Besides, yuck!” But hear me out. None of us wants to go to work
tired and then get to the end of the day feeling like we could have
done more. The energy and mood of the morning carries through
the day, so making life more meaningful begins there.
We’re used to waking up just before we have to get to work, or
to a class, or to a workout, or to shuttle children o to school. We
leave ourselves just enough time to shower, eat breakfast, pack up,
etc. But having “just enough time” means not having enough time.
You run late. You skip breakfast. You leave the bed unmade. You
can’t take the time to enjoy your shower, brush your teeth
properly, nish your breakfast, or put everything away so you’ll
return to a tidy home. You can’t do things with purpose and care
if you have to speed through them. When you start the morning
with high pressure and high stress, you’re programming your body
to operate in that mode for the rest of the day, through
conversations, meetings, appointments.
 Waking up early leads to a more productive day. Successful
businesspeople are already onto this. Apple CEO Tim Cook starts
his day at 3:45 a.m. Richard Branson is up at 5:45. Michelle
Obama rises at 4:30. But it’s important to note that while lots of
high-impact people rise early, there’s also a movement among top
executives to reclaim sleep. Amazon CEO Je Bezos makes it a
priority to get eight hours of sleep every night, saying that less
sleep might give you more time to produce, but the quality will
su er. So if you’re going to rise early, you need to turn in at an
hour that allows you to get a full night’s rest.
Life gets more complicated if you have kids or a night job, so if
these or other circumstances make the idea of waking up an hour
earlier unfathomable, don’t despair. Start with manageable
increments (see the Try This below). And notice I didn’t name a
speci c time for you to get up. I’m not asking for 4 a.m. The hour
doesn’t even have to be early—the goal is to give you enough time
to move with intention and do things completely. That spirit will
carry through the day.
Create a time cushion at the beginning of the day or you’ll
spend the rest of the day searching for it. I guarantee you will never
nd that extra time in the middle of the day. Steal it from your
morning sleep and give that sleep back to yourself at night. See
what changes.

TRY THIS: EASE INTO AN EARLIER WAKE-UP

This week, wake up just fifteen minutes earlier. You’ll probably have to
use an alarm, but make it a gentle one. Use low lighting when you first
wake up; put on quiet music. Don’t pick up your phone for at least those
bonus fifteen minutes. Give your brain this time to set a tone for the day
ahead. After one week of this, roll your wake time back another fifteen
minutes. Now you have half an hour that is all yours. How will you
choose to spend it? You might take a longer shower. Sip your tea. Go for
a walk. Meditate. Spend a moment cleaning up after yourself before you
step out the door. At night, turn off the TV and phone and get in bed
whenever you feel the first twinge of fatigue.

FOUND TIME
Once you’ve created space in the morning, it is yours alone;
nobody else controls how you use it. Given how much of our time
is controlled by our obligations—job, family, etc.—this free time is
one of the greatest gifts we can give ourselves. You might go about
your ordinary routine, but feel the space and leisure created by
more time. Maybe you have time to make your own co ee instead
of grabbing it en route. You can have a conversation over breakfast,
read the paper, or use your newfound time to exercise. If you have
a meditation, you can start the day with a gratitude visualization
practice. Maybe, as health experts are fond of recommending,
you’ll park further from work to add a bit of a walk to your
morning. When you create the space, you’ll realize it lls with
what you lack most of all: time for yourself.

TRY THIS: A NEW MORNING ROUTINE

Every morning make some time for:

Thankfulness. Express gratitude to someone, some place, or

something every day. This includes thinking it, writing it, and
sharing it. (See Chapter Nine.)
Insight. Gain insight through reading the paper or a book, or listening
to a podcast.
Meditation. Spend fifteen minutes alone, breathing, visualizing or
with sound. (More about sound meditation at the end of Part 3.)
Exercise. We monks did yoga, but you can do some basic stretches
or a workout.

Thankfulness. Insight. Meditation. Exercise. T.I.M.E. A new way to put

time into your morning.

THE EVENING ROUTINE

At the ashram, I learned that the morning is de ned by the
evening. It’s natural for us to treat each morning like a new
beginning, but the truth is that our days circle on themselves. You
don’t set your alarm in the morning—you set it the night before.
It follows that if you want to wake up in the morning with
intention, you need to start that momentum by establishing a
healthy, restful evening routine—and so the attention we’ve given
the mornings begins to expand and de ne the entire day.
There is “no way” you have time to wake up one hour earlier,
but how often do you switch on the TV, settle on one show or
another, and end up watching until past midnight? You watch TV
because you’re “unwinding.” You’re too tired to do anything else.
But earlier sleep time can put you in a better mood. Human
growth hormone (HGH) is kind of a big deal. It plays a key role in
growth, cell repair, and metabolism, and without it we might even
die sooner. As much as 75 percent of the HGH in our bodies is
released when we sleep, and research shows that our highest bursts
of HGH typically come between 10 p.m. and midnight, so if
you’re awake during those hours, you’re cheating yourself of
HGH. If you have a job that goes past midnight, or little kids who
keep you up, feel free to ignore me, but waking up before the
demands of your day begin should not be at the expense of good
sleep. If you spent that ten to midnight getting real rest, it
wouldn’t be so hard to nd those hours in the morning.
In the ashram, we spent the evenings studying and reading and
went to sleep between eight and ten. We slept in pitch darkness,
with no devices in the room. We slept in T-shirts and shorts, never
in our robes, which carried the energy of the waking day.
Morning sets the tone of the day, but a well-planned evening
prepares you for morning. In an interview on CNBC’s Make It,
Instagram Shark Tank star Kevin O’Leary said that before he goes
to sleep he writes down three things he wants to do the next
morning before he talks to anyone besides his family. Take his cue
and before you go to sleep, gure out the rst things you want to
achieve tomorrow. Knowing what you’re tackling rst will
simplify your morning. You won’t have to push or force your
mind when it’s just warming up. (And, bonus, those tasks won’t
keep you up at night if you know you’re going to handle them.)
Next, nd your version of a monk’s robe, a uniform that you’ll
put on in the morning. I have a bigger selection of clothes now,
and to my wife’s relief none of them are orange robes, but I favor
similar sets of clothes in di erent colors. The point is to remove
challenges from the morning. Insigni cant as they may seem, if
you’re spending your morning deciding what to eat, what to wear,
and what tasks to tackle rst, the accumulating choices complicate
things unnecessarily.
Christopher Sommer, a former US National Team gymnastics
coach, with forty years’ experience, tells his athletes to limit the
number of decisions they have to make because each decision is an
opportunity to stray from their path. If you spend your morning
making trivial decisions, you’ll have squandered that energy. Settle
into patterns and make decisions the night before, and you’ll have
a head start on the morning and will be better able to make
focused decisions throughout the day.
Finally, consider what your last thoughts are before going to
sleep. Are they This screen is going blurry, I’d better turn off my
phone or I forgot to wish my mother “Happy Birthday”? Don’t
program yourself to wake up with bad energy. Every night when
I’m falling asleep, I say to myself, “I am relaxed, energized, and
focused. I am calm, enthusiastic, and productive.” It has a yoga-
robot vibe when I put it on paper, but it works for me. I am
programming my mind to wake up with energy and conviction.
The emotion you fall asleep with at night is most likely the
emotion you’ll wake up with in the morning.

A STONE ON THE PATH

The goal of all this preparation is to bring intentionality to the
entire day. The moment you leave your home, there will be more
curveballs, whatever your job may be. You’re going to need the
energy and focus you cultivated all morning. Monks don’t just
have morning routines and nighttime routines; we use routines of
time and location every moment of the day. Sister Joan Chittister,
the Benedictine nun I’ve already mentioned, says, “People living in
the cities and suburbs… can make choices about the way they live,
though most of them don’t see that, because they are conditioned
to be on the go all the time.… Imagine for a moment what
America would look like, imagine the degree of serenity we’d have,
if laypeople had something comparable to the daily schedule of the
cloistered life. It provides scheduled time for prayer, work, and
recreation.” Routines root us. The two hours I spend meditating
support the other twenty-two hours of my day, just as the twenty-
two hours in uence my meditation. The relationship between the
two is symbiotic.

TRY THIS: VISUALIZATION FOR TOMORROW

Just as an inventor has to visualize an idea before building it, we can
visualize the life we want, beginning by visualizing how we want our
mornings to be.
After you do breathwork to calm your mind, I want you to visualize
yourself as your best self. Visualize yourself waking up in the morning
healthy, well rested, and energized. Imagine the sunlight coming through
the windows. You get up, and as your feet touch the ground, you feel a
sense of gratitude for another day. Really feel that gratitude, and then
say in your mind, “I am grateful for today. I am excited for today. I am
joyful for today.”
See yourself brushing your teeth, taking your time, being mindful to
brush every tooth. Then, as you go into the shower, visualize yourself
feeling calm, balance, ease, stillness. When you come out of the shower,
because you chose what you were going to wear the night before, it’s not
a bother to dress. Now see yourself setting your intentions, writing down,
“My intention today is to be focused. My intention today is to be
disciplined. My intention today is to be of service.”
Visualize the whole morning again as realistically as you can. You
may add some exercise, some meditation. Believe it. Feel it. Welcome it
into your life. Feeling fresh, feeling fueled.
Now visualize yourself continuing the day as your best self. See
yourself inspiring others, leading others, guiding others, sharing with
others, listening to others, learning from others, being open to others,
their feedback and their thoughts. See yourself in this dynamic
environment, giving your best and receiving your best.
Visualize yourself coming home at the end of the day. You’re tired, but
you’re happy. You want to sit down and rest, but you’re grateful for
whatever you have: a job, a life, family, friends, a home. You have more
than so many people. See yourself in the evening; instead of being on
your phone or watching a show, you come up with new ideas to spend
that time meaningfully.
When you visualize yourself getting into bed at a good time, see
yourself looking up and saying, “I’m grateful for today. I will wake up
 tomorrow feeling healthy, energized, and rested. Thank you.” Then
visualize yourself scanning throughout your body and thanking each part
of your body for helping you throughout the day.
When you’re ready, in your own time, at your own pace, slowly and
gently open your eyes.
Note: Life messes up your plans. Tomorrow is not going to go as you
visualize it. Visualization doesn’t change your life, but it changes how
you see it. You can build your life by returning to the ideal that you
imagined. Whenever you feel that your life is out of alignment, you
realign it with the visualization.

In the ashram we took the same thirty-minute walk on the

same path at least once a day. Every day the monk asked us to keep
our eyes open for something di erent, something we’d never
before seen on this walk that we had taken yesterday, and the day
before, and the day before that.
Spotting something new every day on our familiar walk was a
reminder to keep our focus on that walk, to see the freshness in
each “routine,” to be aware. Seeing something is not the same as
noticing it. Researchers at UCLA asked faculty, sta , and students
in the Department of Psychology whether they knew the location
of the nearest re extinguisher. Only 24 percent could remember
where the closest one was, even though, for 92 percent of the
participants, a re extinguisher was just a few feet from where they
lled out the survey (which was usually their own o ce or a
classroom they frequently visited). One professor didn’t realize
that there was a re extinguisher just inches from the o ce he’d
occupied for twenty- ve years.
Truly noticing what’s around us keeps our brains from shifting
to autopilot. At the ashram we were trained to do this on our daily
walk.
I have taken this walk for hundreds of days now. It is hot, but not
unpleasant in my robes. The forest is leafy and cool, the dirt path
feels soothing underfoot. Today a senior monk has asked us to look
for a new stone, one that we have never noticed before. I am slightly
disappointed. For the past week or so we’ve been asked to look for a
new flower every day, and yesterday I lined up an extra one for
today, a tiny blue flower cupping a drop of dew that seemed to wink
at me as if it were in on my plan. But no, our leader is somehow onto
me and has switched things up. And so the hunt is on.
Monks understand that routine frees your mind, but the
biggest threat to that freedom is monotony. People complain
about their poor memories, but I’ve heard it said that we don’t
have a retention problem, we have an attention problem. By
searching for the new, you are reminding your brain to pay
attention and rewiring it to recognize that there’s something to
learn in everything. Life isn’t as certain as we assume.
How can I advocate both for establishing routines and seeking
out novelty? Aren’t these contradictory? But it is precisely doing
the familiar that creates room for discovery. The late Kobe Bryant
was onto this. The basketball legend had started showing his
creative side, developing books and a video series. As Bryant told
me on my podcast, On Purpose, having a routine is critical to his
work. “A lot of the time, creativity comes from structure. When
you have those parameters and structure, then within that you can
be creative. If you don’t have structure, you’re just aimlessly doing
stu .” Rules and routines ease our cognitive burden so we have
bandwidth for creativity. Structure enhances spontaneity. And
discovery reinvigorates the routine.
This approach leads to delight in small things. We tend to
anticipate the big events of life: holidays, promotions, birthday
parties. We put pressure on these events to live up to our
expectations. But if we look for small joys, we don’t have to wait
for them to come up on the calendar. Instead they await us every
day if we take the time to look for them.
And I’ve found it! Here, a curious orange-y stone that has
seemingly appeared out of nowhere since yesterday. I turn it over in
my palm. Finding the stone isn’t the end of our discovery process. We
observe it deeply, describe the color, the shape, immerse ourselves in it
in order to understand and appreciate it. Then we might describe it
again to be sure we’ve experienced it fully. This isn’t an exercise, it’s
real. A deep experience. I smile before returning it to the edge of the
path, half-hidden, but there for someone else to find.
To walk down the same old path and nd a new stone is
to open your mind.

CHEW YOUR DRINKS AND DRINK YOUR FOOD

Monk training wasn’t just about spotting the new. It was about
doing familiar things with awareness.
One afternoon a senior monk told us, “Today we will have a
silent lunch. Remember to chew your drinks and drink your
food.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“We don’t take the time to consume our food properly,” the
monk said. “When you drink your food, grind the solids into
liquid. When you chew your drink, instead of gulping it down
take each sip as if it is a morsel to be savored.”

TRY THIS: SAME OLD, SAME NEW

Look for something new in a routine that you already have. What can you
spy on your commute that you have never seen before? Try starting a
conversation with someone you see regularly but haven’t ever engaged.
Do this with one new person every day and see how your life changes.

If a monk can be mindful of a single sip of water, imagine how

this carries through to the rest of daily life. How can you
rediscover the everyday? When you exercise, can you see the route
that you run or feel the rhythms of the gym di erently? Do you
see the same woman walking her dog every day? Could you greet
her with a nod? When you shop for food, can you take the time to
choose the perfect apple—or the most unusual one? Can you have
a personal exchange with the cashier?
In your physical space, how can you look at things freshly?
There are articles all around our homes and our workspaces that
we have put out because they please us: photos, knickknacks, art
objects. Look at yours closely. Are these a true re ection of what
brings you joy? Are there other favorites that deserve a turn in the
spotlight and inject some novelty into your familiar surroundings?
Add owers to a vase or rearrange your furniture to nd new
brightness and purpose in familiar possessions. Simply choosing a
new place for incoming mail can change it from clutter to part of
an organized life.
We can awaken the familiarity of home by changing things up.
Have music playing when your partner comes home if that’s
something you don’t usually do. Or vice versa, if you usually put
on music or a podcast when you get home, try silence instead.
Bring a strange piece of fruit home from the store and put it in the
middle of the dinner table. Introduce a topic of conversation to
your dinner companions or take turns reporting three surprising
moments in the day. Switch the lightbulb to a softer or clearer
light. Flip the mattress. Sleep on the “wrong” side of the bed.
Appreciating the everyday doesn’t even have to involve change
so much as nding value in everyday activities. In his book At
Home in the World, the monk Thich Nhat Hanh writes, “To my
mind, the idea that doing dishes is unpleasant can occur only
when you aren’t doing them.… If I am incapable of washing dishes
joyfully, if I want to nish them quickly so I can go and have
dessert or a cup of tea, I will be equally incapable of enjoying my
dessert or my tea when I nally have them.… Each thought, each
action in the sunlight of awareness becomes sacred. In this light,
no boundary exists between the sacred and the profane.”

TRY THIS: TRANSFORM THE MUNDANE

Even a task as quotidian as doing the dishes can transform if you let it.
Allow yourself to be in front of the sink, committed to a single task.
Instead of putting on music, focus all your senses on the dishes—watch
their surfaces go from grimy to clean, smell the dish soap, feel the steam
of the hot water. Observe how satisfying it is to see the sink go from full
to empty. There is a Zen koan that says, “Before enlightenment, chop
wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.” No
matter how much we grow, we are never free of daily chores and
 routines, but to be enlightened is to embrace them. The outside may look
the same, but inside you are transformed.

EVERY MOMENT OF THE DAY

We’ve talked about taking an ordinary, familiar moment and
nding new ways to appreciate it. To take that presence to another
level, we try to string these moments together, so that we’re not
picking and choosing certain walks or dishwashing episodes to
make special—we’re elevating our awareness of every moment, at
every moment.
We’re all familiar with the idea of being in the moment. It’s not
hard to see that if you’re running a race, you won’t be able to go
back and change how fast you ran at Mile 2. Your only
opportunity to succeed is in that moment. Whether you are at a
work meeting or having dinner with friends, the conversations you
have, the words you choose—you won’t ever have another
opportunity just like that one. In that moment you can’t change
the past, and you’re deciding the future, so you might as well be
where you are. Kālidāsa, the great Sanskrit writer of the fth
century, wrote, “Yesterday is but a dream. Tomorrow is only a
vision. But today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of
happiness, and every tomorrow a vision of hope.”
We may all agree that living in the present makes sense, but the
truth is that we’re only willing to have selective presence. We’re
willing to be present at certain times—during a favorite show or a
yoga class, or even during the mundane task we’ve chosen to
elevate—but we still want to be distracted when we choose to be
distracted. We spend time at work dreaming about going on a
beach vacation, but then, on the beach, long-awaited drink in
hand, we’re annoyed to nd that we can’t stop thinking about
work. Monks learn that these two scenarios are connected. A
desired distraction at work bleeds into unwanted distraction on
vacation. Distraction at lunch bleeds into the afternoon. We are
training our minds to be where we physically aren’t. If you allow
yourself to daydream, you will always be distracted.
Being present is the only way to live a truly rich and full
life.

LOCATION HAS ENERGY

It is easier to see the value of being present throughout an ordinary
day, and easier to be truly present if you understand and
appreciate the bene ts that routine has to o er. Routines aren’t
just about actions; they’re also about the locations in which those
actions take place. There’s a reason people study better in libraries
and work better in o ces. New York City imparts its hustle and
bustle, while LA makes you feel laid back. Each environment—
from the biggest city to the smallest corner of a room—has its own
particular energy. Every location gives o a di erent feeling, and
your dharma thrives—or falters—in speci c environments.
We are constantly experiencing a range of activities and
environments, but we don’t pause to contemplate which ones
most appeal to us. Do you thrive in busy environments or in
solitude? Do you like the safety of cozy nooks or spacious
libraries? Do you prefer to be surrounded by stimulating artwork
and music, or does uncluttered simplicity help you concentrate?
Do you like to bounce ideas o others or to get feedback after
completing a job? Do you prefer familiarity or a change of
scenery? Having this self-awareness serves your dharma. It means
that when you step into a job interview, you have a better sense of
how you will perform at this job and whether it’s a good match. It
means that when you plan a date, you can choose a space where
you will be most comfortable. When you imagine di erent careers
within your skill set, you know which ones are best suited to your
sensibilities.

TRY THIS: ENVIRONMENTAL AWARENESS

 For every environment where you spend time this week, ask yourself the
following questions. If possible, ask them right after the experience, then
again at the end of the week.

What were the key features of the space?

Quiet or loud?
Big or small?
Vibrant or plain?
In the center of an active space or removed?
Close to other people or isolated?
How did I feel in this space: productive? relaxed? distracted?
Did the activity I was doing fit well with the place where I was doing
it?
Was I in the best mindset for what I set out to do?
If not, is there another place where I am more comfortable
accomplishing what I planned?

The more your personal spaces are devoted to single, clear

purposes, the better they will serve you, not just in the ful llment
of your dharma but in your mood and productivity. Just as the
room where we monks slept was designed for nothing but sleep, so
every place in the ashram was devoted to a single activity. We
didn’t read or meditate where we slept. We didn’t work in the
refectory.
In the world outside an ashram, to watch Net ix and/or eat in
your bedroom is to confuse the energy of that space. If you bring
those energies to your bedroom, it becomes harder to sleep there.
Even in the tiniest apartment, you can dedicate spaces to di erent
activities. Every home should have a place to eat. A place to sleep.
A sacred space that helps you feel calm and a space that feels
comforting when you are angry. Create spaces that bring you the
energy that matches your intention. A bedroom should have few
distractions, calm colors, soft lighting. Ideally, it should not
contain your workspace. Meanwhile, a workspace should be well
lit, uncluttered, and functional, with art that inspires you.
When you identify where you thrive, focus on expanding those
opportunities. If you’re drawn to the energy of a nightclub in your
leisure time, would you do better in a career that is equally
vibrant? If you’re a rock musician but you thrive in quiet, then
maybe you should be composing music instead of performing. If
you have the “perfect job” working from home, but you prefer the
activity of an o ce, look to move your work to a café or shared
workspace. The point is to be aware about where you thrive,
where you’re at your best, and to gure out how to spend the most
time in that place.
Of course, we are all obligated to do activities we don’t like in
environments that aren’t ideal—especially work—and we’ve all
experienced the negative energies that these activities generate.
With elevated awareness, we understand what has made us
impatient, stressed, or drained, and develop guidelines for what
living in our dharma, in the right environment, with the right
energy, would look like. This should be the long-term goal.

Sound Design Your Life

Your location and your senses speak to each other. This is most
obvious when we think about the sounds that we encounter every
day. In monk life the sounds we hear relate directly to what we are
doing. We wake up to birds and winds. We hear chanting as we
walk into a meditation. There is no painful noise.
But the modern world is getting louder. Planes howl overhead,
dogs bark, drills whine. We’re subjected to uncontrollable noise all
day. We think we’re ignoring the honk and clatter of daily life, but
all of it adds to our cognitive load. The brain processes sound even
when we don’t consciously hear it. At home, many of us retreat to
silence, so we live in the extremes of silence and noise.
Instead of tuning out the noise in your life—sound design it.
Start by picking the best alarm tone in the world. Begin the day
with a song that makes you happy. On your way to work, listen to
a beloved audiobook, a favorite podcast, or your go-to playlist.
Choose sounds that make you feel happier and healthier, the
better to replicate the highly curated life in an ashram.

TIME HAS MEMORY

When we tailor our locations for speci c purposes, we’re better
able to summon the right kind of energy and attention. The same
is true for time. Doing something at the same time every day helps
us remember to do it, commit to it, and do it with increasing skill
and facility. If you’re accustomed to going to the gym every
morning at the same time, try going in the evening for a change
and you’ll see what a challenge it is. When we do something at the
same time every day, that time keeps that memory for us. It holds
the practice. It saves the space. When you want to incorporate a
new habit into your routine, like meditating or reading, don’t
make it more di cult by trying to do it whenever you have a free
moment. Slot it into the same time every day. Even better, link the
new practice to something that’s already a habit. A friend of mine
wanted to incorporate daily yoga into her schedule so she laid a
mat right next to her bed. She literally rolled out of bed and into
her yoga practice. Marrying habits is a way of circumventing
excuses.
Location has energy; time has memory.
If you do something at the same time every day, it
becomes easier and natural.
If you do something in the same space every day, it
becomes easier and natural.

SINGLE-TASKING
Time and location help us maximize the moment, but there is one
essential component to being wholly present in that moment:
single-tasking. Studies have found that only 2 percent of us can
multitask e ectively; most of us are terrible at it, especially when
one of those tasks requires a lot of focus. When we think we’re
multitasking, what’s usually happening is that we’re shifting
rapidly among several di erent things, or “serial tasking.” This
fragmented attention actually erodes our ability to focus, so doing
just one thing at a time without distraction becomes harder.
Researchers from Stanford University took a group of students
and divided them into two groups—those who frequently switch
among multiple streams of media (checking email, social media,
and headline news, for instance) and those who don’t. They put
the groups through a series of attention and memory tasks, such as
remembering sequences of letters and focusing on certain colored
shapes while ignoring others, and the media multitaskers
consistently performed poorly. They even did worse on a test of
task-switching ability.
To make single-tasking easier for myself, I have “no tech” zones
and times. My wife and I don’t use tech in the bedroom or at the
dining table, and try not to between 8 p.m. and 9 a.m. I try to
practice single-tasking with mundane tasks in order to strengthen
the habit. I used to brush my teeth without thought. They were
white enough; they looked great. But then the dentist told me that
I’d damaged my gums. Now I spend four seconds on each tooth. I
count in my head, one, two, three, four, which gives me something
to do. I’m still spending the same amount of time brushing my
teeth, but I’m doing it in a more e ective way. If I think about
business when I’m brushing my teeth or in the shower, it doesn’t
feel nourishing and energizing, and I don’t take care with my
gums. When you’re brushing, just brush. When you’re showering,
just shower.
We don’t have to be focused like a laser beam on every task
every time. It’s okay to listen to music while cleaning the
bathroom or talk with your partner while eating together. Just as
some instruments sound great together, certain habits
complement each other. But single-tasking as much as possible
keeps your brain in the habit of focusing on one thing at a time,
and you should pick certain routines where you always single-task,
like walking the dog, using your phone (one app at a time!),
showering, or folding the laundry, in order to build the skill.

GOING ALL THE WAY

Routines become easier if you’ve done something immersively. If
you want to bring a new skill into your life, I recommend that you
kick it o with single-pointed focus for a short period of time. If I
play Ping-Pong every day for an hour, I’m de nitely going to be
better at it. If you want to start a daily meditation, a weeklong
meditation retreat will give you a strong base on which to build.
Throughout this book I suggest many changes you can make to
your life. But if you try to change everything at the same time, they
will all become small, equal priorities. Change happens with small
steps and big priorities. Pick one thing to change, make it your
number one priority, and see it through before you move on to the
next.
Monks try to do everything immersively. Our lunches were
silent. Our meditations were long. We didn’t do anything in just
ve minutes. (Except for showering. We weren’t showering
immersively.) We had the luxury of time, and we used it to single-
task for hours on end. That same level of immersion isn’t possible
in the modern world, but the greater your investment, the greater
your return. If something is important, it deserves to be
experienced deeply. And everything is important.
We all procrastinate and get distracted, even monks, but if you
give yourself more time, then you can a ord to get distracted and
then refocus. In your morning routine, having limited time means
that you’re one phone call or spilled co ee away from being late to
work. If you’re frustrated with learning a new skill, understanding
a concept, or assembling a piece of Ikea furniture, your instinct
will be to pull away, but go all in and you’ll accomplish more than
you thought possible. (Even the Hemnes dresser—allegedly Ikea’s
most di cult build.)
As it turns out, periods of deep focus are also good for your
brain. When we switch tasks compulsively (like the multitaskers
who showed poor memory and focus in the Stanford study), it
erodes our ability to focus. We overstimulate the dopamine
(reward) channel. That’s also the addiction pathway, so we are
compelled to stimulate it more and more to get the same feel-good
hit, and that leads to more and more distraction. But ultimately,
ironically, the feel-good of dopamine bums us out—too much
dopamine can keep our bodies from making and processing
serotonin, the contentment chemical. If you’ve ever spent the day
jumping on and o calls, in and out of meetings, ordering this
book from Amazon and checking that thread on Snapchat, you
know that feeling of exhaustion you have at the end of it all? It’s a
dopamine hangover.
When we allow ourselves to have immersive experiences—
through meditation, focused periods of work, painting, doing a
crossword puzzle, weeding a garden, and many other forms of
contemplative single-tasking—we’re not only more productive, we
actually feel better.
There are plenty of magazine articles and phone apps that
encourage you to meditate for ve minutes a day. I’m not against
that, but I’m also not surprised if it does nothing for you. In our
culture, it is commonplace to devote ve to ten minutes to one
daily practice or another, but the truth is you achieve very little in
ve minutes. I’ve had more than one friend complain to me: “Jay,
I’ve been meditating for ve minutes a day for seven months and
it’s not working.”
Imagine you were told you could spend ve minutes a day for a
whole month with someone you were attracted to. At the end of
the month you’d still barely know them. You de nitely wouldn’t
be in love. There’s a reason we want to talk to someone all night
when we’re falling in love. Maybe sometimes it’s even the other
way around: We fall in love because we talked to someone all night.
The ocean is full of treasures, but if you swim on the surface, you
won’t see them all. If you start a meditation practice with the idea
that you can instantly clear your mind, you’ll soon learn that
immersion takes time and practice.
When I began to meditate, it took me a good fteen minutes to
settle physically and another fteen to settle down the mental
chatter. I’ve been meditating for one to two hours a day for
thirteen years, and it still takes me ten minutes to switch o my
mind. I’m not saying you have to meditate two hours a day for
thirteen years to get the bene t. That’s not the point. I have
con dence that any process can work if you do it immersively.
After you break the barrier and commit yourself wholly, you start
experiencing the bene ts. You lose track of time. The feeling of
being fully engaged is often so rewarding that when it’s time to
stop, you want to return to the experience.
I recommend using immersive experience as a kicko or
reinvigoration for a regular practice. To my friend who was
frustrated with his ve minutes-a-day meditation practice, I said,
“I get it. Time is tough to nd, but if you feel like you’re not
getting enough from it, try taking an hour-long class. Then return
to your ten-minute practice. You might nd it has become more
powerful. If you want, you could try a daylong retreat.” I talked to
him about falling in love, how eventually you aren’t compelled to
stay up all night anymore because you’ve gotten to know the
person. Five minutes goes a lot further when you’re married. I told
him, “Maybe you and meditation could use a romantic getaway.”

Routines are counterintuitive—instead of being boring and

repetitive, doing the same tasks at the same time in the same place
makes room for creativity. The consistent energy of location and
memory of time help us be present in the moment, engaging
deeply in tasks instead of getting distracted or frustrated. Build
routines and train yourself as monks do, to nd focus and achieve
deep immersion.

Once we quell our external distractions, we can address the most

subtle and powerful distractions of all, the voices inside our heads.
 SEVEN

THE MIND
The Charioteer’s Dilemma

When the five senses and the mind are stilled, when the reasoning
intellect rests in silence, then begins the highest path.
—the Katha Upanishad

It is raining. Though it’s September and monsoon season is over, it’s coming down hard.
I really need a shower before morning meditation. About a hundred of my fellow
monks and I arrived here in South India last night after a two-day train ride from
Mumbai. We had the cheapest tickets available, of course, sleeping in close quarters
with strangers, and the bathrooms were so foul that I decided to fast for the entire trip
in order to avoid them. We are on a pilgrimage, staying in a warehouse-type building
near the seashore. After morning meditation we will go straight to classes, so now is my
best chance to shower.
I ask for directions to the shower, and someone points to a wet, muddy dirt pathway
through the low shrubs. “It’s about a twenty-minute walk,” he says.
I look down at my flip-flops. Great. My feet will get even dirtier on the way to the
shower than they are right now. What’s the point?
Then another voice comes into my head: “Don’t be lazy. You have to get ready for
morning meditation. Just go take the shower.”
I duck my head and start down the path. Squelching through the mud, I try not to
slip. Every step is unpleasant, not just because of the conditions but because the first voice
in my head keeps discouraging me, saying “See? You’re getting muddy on your way to
the showers, and you’ll get dirty again on the way back.”
The other voice urges me onward: “You are doing the right thing. Honor your
commitment.”
Finally, I reach the showers, a row of white stalls. I open the door to one and look up.
Rain pours down from the still-dark sky. There is no roof. Seriously? I step into the stall
and don’t even bother to turn on the faucet. We bathe in cold water anyway, and that’s
exactly what the rain is delivering.
Standing in the shower, I wonder what the hell I am doing here. In this miserable
excuse for a shower, on that filthy train yesterday, on this trip, living this life. I could be
dry and warm in a nice apartment in London right now, making fifty thousand
pounds a year. Life could be so much easier.
But as I walk back, the other voice returns with some interesting ideas about the
value of what I’ve just accomplished. Going to the shower in the rain wasn’t a notable
achievement. It didn’t require physical strength or bravery. But it tested my ability to
tolerate external difficulties. It gave me an idea of how much frustration I could handle
in one morning. It may not have cleansed or refreshed me, but it did something more
valuable: It strengthened my resolve.

THE MONKEY MIND

In the Hitopadeśa, an ancient Indian text by Nārāyana, the mind is compared to a
drunken monkey that’s been bitten by a scorpion and haunted by a ghost.
We humans have roughly seventy thousand separate thoughts each day. Ernst
Pöppel, a German psychologist and neuroscientist, has shown through his research
that our minds are only in present time for about three seconds at a time. Other than
that, our brains are thinking forward and backward, lling in ideas about present
time based on what we’ve experienced in the past and anticipating what is to come.
As Lisa Feldman Barrett, author of How Emotions Are Made, describes it on a
podcast, most of the time “your brain is not reacting to events in the world, it’s
predicting… constantly guessing what’s going to happen next.” The Samyutta
Nikaya describes each thought as a branch, and our minds as monkeys, swinging
from one branch to the next, often aimlessly. This almost sounds like fun, but, as we
all know, it is anything but. Usually those thoughts are fears, concerns, negativity,
and stress. What will happen this week at work? What should I eat for dinner? Have
I saved enough for a holiday this year? Why is my date ve minutes late? Why am I
here? These are all genuine questions that deserve answers, but none of them will be
resolved while we swing from branch to branch, thought to thought. This is the
jungle of the untrained mind.
The Dhammapada is a collection of verses probably collected by Buddha’s
disciples. In it, the Buddha says, “As irrigators lead water where they want, as archers
make their arrows straight, as carpenters carve wood, the wise shape their minds.”
True growth requires understanding the mind. It is the lter, judge, and director of
all our experiences, but, as evidenced by the con ict I felt on my shower adventure,
we are not always of one mind. The more we can evaluate, understand, train, and
strengthen our relationship with the mind, the more successfully we navigate our
lives and overcome challenges.
This battle in our mind is waged over the smallest daily choices (Do I have to get
up right now?) and the biggest (Should I end this relationship?). All of us face such
battles every single day.
A senior monk once told me an old Cherokee story about these dilemmas which
all of us agonize over: “An elder tells his grandson, ‘Every choice in life is a battle
between two wolves inside us. One represents anger, envy, greed, fear, lies, insecurity,
and ego. The other represents peace, love, compassion, kindness, humility, and
positivity. They are competing for supremacy.’
“ ‘Which wolf wins?’ the grandson asks. ‘The one you feed,’ the elder replies.”
“But how do we feed them?” I asked my teacher.
The monk said, “By what we read and hear. By who we spend time with. By what
we do with our time. By where we focus our energy and attention.”
The Bhagavad Gita states, “For him who has conquered the mind, the mind is the
best of friends; but for one who has failed to do so, his very mind will be the greatest
enemy.” The word enemy may seem too strong to describe the voice of dissent in
your head, but the de nition rings true: An enemy, according to the Oxford English
Dictionary, is “a person who is actively opposed or hostile to someone or
something,” and “a thing that harms or weakens something.” Sometimes our own
minds work against us. They convince us to do something, then make us feel guilty
or bad about it, often because it’s gone against our values or morals.
A pair of researchers from Princeton University and the University of Waterloo
have shown that the weight of a bad decision isn’t just metaphorical. They asked
study participants to remember a time they’d done something unethical, then asked
them to rate their perception of their body weight. People who’d been asked to recall
an unethical action said they felt physically heavier than those who’d been asked to
recall a neutral memory. Other times we want to focus on something—a project at
work, an artistic endeavor, a home repair, a new hobby—and our minds just won’t
let us get around to it. When we procrastinate, there’s a con ict between what
researchers call our “should-self,” or what we feel we should do because it’s good for
us, and our “want-self,” what we actually want to do in the moment. “I know I
should get started on that business proposal, but I want to watch the US Open
quarter nals.”
Before I became a monk, my own mind stopped me from doing what I loved
because it was too risky. It allowed me to consume a chocolate bar and a liter of soda
daily even though I wanted to be healthy. It made me compare myself to other people
instead of concentrating on my own growth. I blocked myself from reaching out to
people I had hurt because I did not want to appear weaker. I allowed myself to be
angry at people I loved because I cared more about being right than being kind. In
the introduction to his translation of the Dhammapada, Eknath Easwaran writes
that in our everyday swirl of thoughts “we have no more idea of what life is really like
than a chicken has before it hatches. Excitement and depression, fortune and
misfortune, pleasure and pain, are storms in a tiny, private, shell-bound realm which
we take to be the whole of existence.” It makes sense, then, that when the Buddha
nally reached “the realm utterly beyond the reach of thought,” he described feeling
like a chick breaking out of its shell.
 At the ashram, I learned something that has been crucial in curbing these
dangerous, self-destructive thoughts. Our thoughts are like clouds passing by. The
self, like the sun, is always there. We are not our minds.

THE PARENT AND THE CHILD

As my teachers explained, visualizing the mind as a separate entity helps us work on
our relationship with it—we can think of the interaction as making a friend or
negotiating peace with an enemy.
As in any interaction, the quality of our communication with the mind is based
on the history of our relationship with it. Are we hotheaded combatants or stubborn
and unwilling to engage? Do we have the same arguments over and over again, or do
we listen and compromise? Most of us don’t know the history of this internal
relationship because we’ve never taken the time to re ect on it.
The monkey mind is a child and the monk mind is an adult. A child cries when it
doesn’t get what it wants, ignoring what it already has. A child struggles to
appreciate real value—it would happily trade a stock certi cate for some candy.
When something challenges us in some way, the childlike mind reacts immediately.
Maybe you feel insulted and make a sour face, or you start defending yourself. A
conditioned, automatic reaction like this is ideal if someone pulls out a knife. You
feel scared, and you bolt. But it’s not ideal if we’re being emotionally defensive
because someone has said something we don’t want to hear. We don’t want to be
controlled by automatic reactions in every case, nor do we want to eliminate the
child mind altogether. The child mind enables us to be spontaneous, creative, and
dynamic—all invaluable qualities—but when it rules us, it can be our downfall.
The impulsive, desire-driven child mind is tempered by the judicious, pragmatic
adult mind, which says, “That’s not good for you,” or “Wait until later.” The adult
mind reminds us to pause and assess the bigger picture, taking time to weigh the
default reaction, decide if it’s appropriate, and propose other options. The
intelligent parent knows what the child needs versus what it wants and can decide
what is better for it in the long term.
Framing inner con ict this way—parent and child—suggests that when the
childlike mind is fully in control it’s because our monk mind has not been
developed, strengthened, or heard. The child gets frustrated, throws tantrums, and
we quickly give in to it. Then we get mad at ourselves. Why am I doing this? What is
wrong with me?
The parent is the smarter voice. If well trained, it has self-control, reasoning
power, and is a debating champ. But it can only use the strength that we give it. It’s
weaker when tired, hungry, or ignored.
When the parent isn’t supervising, the child climbs on the counter near the hot
stove to get to the cookie jar, and trouble follows. On the other hand, if the parent is
too controlling, the child gets bitter, resentful, and risk-averse. As with all parent-
child relationships, striking the right balance is an ongoing challenge.
This, then, is the rst step to understanding our minds—simply becoming aware
of the di erent voices inside us. Starting to di erentiate what you’re hearing will
immediately help you make better decisions.

DRIVE THE CHARIOT OF THE MIND

When you begin to sort out the multiple voices in your head, the level of con ict
may surprise you. It doesn’t make sense. Our minds should work in our own best
interest. Why would we stand in our own way? The complication is that we are
weighing input from di erent sources: our ve senses, telling us what appeals in the
moment; our memories, recalling what we have experienced in the past; and our
intellects, synthesizing and evaluating the best choice for the long term.

Beyond the parent-child model, the monk teachings have another analogy for the
competing voices in our heads. In the Upanishads the working of the mind is
compared to a chariot being driven by ve horses. In this analogy, the chariot is the
body, the horses are the ve senses, the reins are the mind, and the charioteer is the
intellect. Sure, this description of the mind is more complicated, but bear with me.
In the untrained state, the charioteer (the intellect) is asleep on the job, so the
horses (the senses) have control of the reins (mind) and lead the body wherever they
please. Horses, left to their own devices, react to what’s around them. They see a
tasty-looking shrub, they bend to eat it. Something startles them, they spook. In the
same way, our senses are activated in the moment by food, money, sex, power,
in uence, etc. If the horses are in control, the chariot veers o the road in the
direction of temporary pleasure and instant grati cation.
In the trained state, the charioteer (the intellect) is awake, aware, and attentive,
not allowing the horses to lead the way. The charioteer uses the reins of the mind to
carefully steer the chariot along the correct route.

MASTER THE SENSES

Think about those ve unruly horses, harnessed to the chariot of a lazy driver,
snorting and tossing their heads impatiently. Remember that they represent the ve
senses, always our rst point of contact with the external. The senses are responsible
for our desires and attachments, and they pull us in the direction of impulsivity,
passion, and pleasure, destabilizing the mind. Monks calm the senses in order to calm
the mind. As Pema Chödrön says, “You are the sky. Everything else—it’s just the
weather.”
Shaolin monks are a wonderful example of how we can train our minds to subdue
the senses. (Note: I never lived or trained as a Shaolin monk, although I might want
to try!)
The Shaolin Temple in China dates back more than fteen hundred years, and
Shaolin monks regularly demonstrate the impossible. They balance on the blade of a
sword, break bricks with their heads, and lie on beds of nails and blades without
apparent e ort or injury. It seems like magic, but the Shaolin monks actually push
their limits through rigorous physical and mental regimes.
Children may begin study at the Shaolin monastery as early as age three. They
spend long days in training and meditation. Through breathing techniques and Qi
Gong, an ancient healing technique, the monks develop the ability to accomplish
superhuman feats of strength and to endure uncomfortable situations—from attack
to injury. By cultivating their inner calm, they can ward o mental, physical, and
emotional stress.
It’s not only the Shaolin monks who’ve demonstrated incredible sensory control.
Researchers took a di erent group of monks, along with people who’d never
meditated, and secured a thermal stimulator to their wrists—a device designed to
induce pain through intense heat. The plate warms slowly, then stays at maximum
heat for ten seconds before cooling. During the experiment, as soon as the plate
began to heat, the pain matrix in the non-monks’ brains started ring like crazy, as if
the plate were already at maximum heat. Researchers call this “anticipatory anxiety,”
and the monks showed none of it. Instead, as the plate heated, their brain activity
remained pretty much the same. When the plate reached full heat, activity in the
monks’ brains spiked, but only in areas that registered the physical sensations of pain.
You see for most of us, pain is a twofold sensation—we feel some of it physically and
some of it emotionally. For the monks the heat was painful, but they didn’t assign
negative feelings to the experience. They felt no emotional pain. Their brains also
recovered from the physical pain faster than the non-meditators.
This is a remarkable level of sensory control—more than most of us are
committed to developing—but do think about your senses as paths to the mind.
Most of our lives are governed by what we see, hear, smell, touch, and taste. If you
smell your favorite dessert, you want to eat it. If you see photo of a beach, you start
daydreaming about vacation. You hear a certain phrase and ash to the person who
used to say it all the time.
The monkey mind is reactive, but the monk mind is proactive. Let’s say that
whenever you go on YouTube to watch one video, you end up going down a rabbit
hole. You drift from a cute animal video to a shark attack compilation, and before
you know it you’re watching Sean Evans eating hot sauce with a celebrity guest.
Senses recklessly transport our minds away from where we want them to be. Don’t
tease your own senses. Don’t set yourself up to fail. A monk doesn’t spend time in a
strip club. We want to minimize the mind’s reactive tendencies, and the easiest way
to do that is for the intellect to proactively steer the senses away from stimuli that
could make the mind react in ways that are hard to control. It’s up to the intellect to
know when you’re vulnerable and to tighten the reins, just as a charioteer does when
going through a eld of tasty grass.
Any sensory input can trigger emotions—a tempting or upsetting or sad
reminder that lures those wild horses o the charioteer’s chosen path. Social media
might suck away time you wanted to spend otherwise; a photo might remind you of
a lost friend in a moment when you don’t have time for grief; an ex’s sweatshirt
might re-break your heart. Within reason, I recommend removing unwanted sensory
triggers from your home (or deleting the apps). As you do, visualize yourself
removing them from your mind. You can do the same thing when you hit an
unwanted mental trigger—a word that you used to hear from a parent, a song from
your past. Visualize yourself removing that from your life as you would a physical
object. When you remove those mental and physical triggers, you can stop giving in
to them. Needless to say, we can never remove all senses and all triggers. Nor would
we want to. Our goal is not to silence the mind or even to still it. We want to gure
out the meaning of a thought. That’s what helps us let go. But temporarily, while
we’re strengthening our relationship with our minds, we can take steps to avoid
triggering places and people by adjusting what we see, listen to, read, absorb.
From a monk’s perceptive, the greatest power is self-control, to train the mind
and energy, to focus on your dharma. Ideally, you can navigate anything that seems
tough, challenging, or fun with the same balance and equanimity, without being too
excited in pleasure or too depressed by pain.
Ordinarily our brains turn down the volume on repeated input, but when we
train our minds, we build the ability to focus on what we want regardless of
distractions.
Meditation is an important tool that allows us to regulate sensory input, but we
can also train the mind by building the relationship between the child and the adult
mind. When a parent says, “Clean your room,” and the child doesn’t, that’s like your
monk mind saying, “Change your course,” and the monkey mind saying, “No
thanks, I’d rather listen to loud music on my headphones.” If the parent gets angry at
the child and says, “I told you to clean your room! Why haven’t you done it yet?” the
child retreats further. Eventually, the child may follow orders, but the exchange
hasn’t built a connection or a dialogue.
The more a frustrated parent and petulant child do battle, the more alienated
from each other they feel. When you are ghting an internal battle, your monkey
mind is an adversary. View it as a collaborator, and you can move from battle to
bond, from rejected enemy to trusted friend. A bond has its own challenges—there
can still be disagreement—but at least all parties want the same outcome.
 In order to reach such a collaboration, our intellect must pay closer attention to
the automatic, reactive patterns of the mind, otherwise known as the subconscious.

THE STUBBORN SUBCONSCIOUS

The mind already has certain instinctive patterns that we never consciously chose.
Imagine you have an alarm on your phone set to ring at the same time every
morning. It’s an excellent system until a national holiday comes along, and the alarm
goes o anyway. That alarm is like our subconscious. It’s already been programmed
and defaults to the same thoughts and actions day after day. We live much of our
lives following the same path we’ve always taken, for better or worse, and these
thoughts and behaviors will never change unless we actively reprogram ourselves.
Joshua Bell, a world-famous violinist, decided to busk outside a DC subway
station during the morning rush hour. Playing on a rare and precious instrument, he
opened up his case for donations and performed some of the most di cult pieces
ever written for the violin. In about forty- ve minutes, barely anyone stopped to
listen or donate. He made about $30. Three days before the subway performance he
had played the same violin at Boston’s Symphony Hall, where the decent seats went
for $100.
There are many reasons people might not stop to hear a brilliant musician
playing, but one of them is certainly that they were on autopilot, powering through
the rush hour crowds. How much do we miss when we’re in default mode?
“Insanity is doing the same thing again and again, expecting di erent results.”
(This quote is often attributed to Einstein, although there’s no proof that he ever
said it.) How many of us do the same thing, year after year, hoping our lives will
transform?
Thoughts repeat in our minds, reinforcing what we believe about ourselves. Our
conscious isn’t awake to make edits. The narration playing in your mind is stuck in
its beliefs about relationships, money, how you feel about yourself, how you should
behave. We all have had the experience of someone saying, “You look amazing today,”
and our subconscious responding, “I don’t look amazing. They’re saying that to be
nice.” When someone says, “You really deserved that,” perhaps you say to yourself,
“Oh no, I’m not sure I can do it again.” These habitual reactions pepper our days.
Change begins with the words inside your head. We are going to work on hearing,
curating, choosing, and switching our thoughts.

TRY THIS: WAKE UP THE SUBCONSCIOUS

Write down all the noise you hear in your mind on a daily basis. Noise that you know you don’t
want to have. This should not be a list of your problems. Instead, write the negative, self-
defeating messages your mind is sending you, such as:

You’re not good enough.

You can’t do this.
You don’t have the intelligence to do this.
 These are the times when the charioteer is asleep at the wheel.

INVEST IN THE CONSCIOUS MIND

Just as you are not your mind, you are not your thoughts. Saying to yourself “I don’t
deserve love” or “My life sucks” doesn’t make it a fact, but these self-defeating
thoughts are hard to rewire. All of us have a history of pain, heartbreak, and
challenges, whatever they may be. Just because we’ve been through something and
it’s safely in the past doesn’t mean it’s over. On the contrary, it will persist in some
form—often in self-defeating thoughts—until it teaches us what we need to change.
If you haven’t healed your relationship with your parents, you’ll keep picking
partners who mirror the unresolved issues. If you don’t deliberately rewire your
mindset, you are destined to repeat and re-create the pain you’ve already endured.
It may sound silly, but the best way to overwrite the voices in your head is to start
talking to them. Literally.
Start talking to yourself every day. Feel free to address yourself with your name
and to do it out loud wherever you’re comfortable doing so (so maybe not on a rst
date or a job interview). Sound is powerful, and hearing your own name grabs your
attention.
If your mind says, “You can’t do this,” respond by saying to yourself, “You can do
it. You have the ability. You have the time.”
Talking yourself through a project or task enhances focus and concentration.
Those who do it function more e ciently. In a series of studies, researchers showed
volunteers groups of pictures, then asked them to locate speci c items from among
those pictured. Half of the subjects were told to repeat the names of the items to
themselves out loud as they searched, and the other half were told to stay silent.
Those who repeated the items were signi cantly faster than the silent searchers. The
researchers concluded that talking to yourself not only boosts your memory, it also
helps you focus. Psychologist Linda Sapadin adds that talking to yourself “helps you
clarify your thoughts, tend to what’s important and rm up any decisions you’re
contemplating.”
Let’s consider some ways you can nd a new perspective to shift your mind in a
productive way.

REFRAME
If you’re like most other humans, your intellect excels at telling your mind where it
goes wrong, but rarely bothers to tell your mind where it goes right. What kind of
parenting is that?

Nothing’s going to get better

Nobody understands me
 I’m not good enough
I’m not attractive enough
I’m not smart enough

We look for the worst in ourselves and tell ourselves that it will never change. This
is the least encouraging approach we could pick. There are three routes to happiness,
all of them centered on knowledge: learning, progressing, and achieving. Whenever
we are growing, we feel happy and free of material yearnings. If you’re unsatis ed, or
criticizing yourself, or feeling hopeless, don’t let that stall you out. Identify the ways
you’re making progress, and you will begin to see, feel, and appreciate the value of
what you are doing.
Reframe your self-criticism in terms of knowledge. When you hear yourself say,
“I’m bored, I’m slow, I can’t do this,” respond to yourself: “You are working on it.
You are improving.” This is a reminder to yourself that you are making progress.
Build a relationship with that pessimistic child’s voice. Your adult voice will get
stronger as you read, research, apply, and test. Turn up the volume on recognizing
what your mind gets right. Rather than amplifying your failures, amplify your
progress. If you managed to wake up early two days out of seven, encourage yourself
as you would a child who was just beginning to make a change. If you accomplished
half of what you planned, call it a glass half-full.
In addition to amplifying our growth, we can use “positive direction” to reframe
unwanted thoughts. Our monkey mind often creates chatter like “I can’t do this.”
This can be reworded to “I can do this by…”

“I can’t do this” becomes “I can do this by…”

“I’m bad at this” becomes “I’m investing the time I need to get better”
“I’m unlovable” becomes “I’m reaching out to new people to make new
connections”
“I’m ugly” becomes “I’m taking steps to be my healthiest”
“I can’t handle everything” becomes “I’m prioritizing and checking items o my
list”

Putting a solution-oriented spin on your statement reminds you to be proactive

and take responsibility rather than languishing in wishful thinking.
We can take action instead of using words alone to reframe our state of mind. A
simple way of overcoming this is to learn one new thing every day. It doesn’t have to
be big. You don’t need to teach yourself how to code or learn quantum mechanics.
You could read an article about a person, a city, or a culture, and you’ll feel a burst of
self-esteem. You have something to contribute to the next conversation you have.
Even if you just learn one new word… here’s one: the Inuit word iktsuarpok refers to
the feeling of anticipation you have when you’re waiting for a guest and you keep
going to the window to check and see if they’ve arrived. Just sharing a new word in
conversation can bring richness to the dinner table.
 Many of the frustrations we endure can be seen as blessings because they urge us
to grow and develop. Try putting negative thoughts and circumstances on the
perspective continuum. The same way doctors evaluate pain, I ask people to rate an
individual concern on a scale of one to ten. Zero is no worries. Ten is the worst thing
in the world, something as awful as: “I worry that my whole family will die.”
Actually, that’s probably an eleven.

Problems of all sorts can feel like they deserve a ten rating, especially in the middle
of the night. Not getting promoted feels like a ten. Losing a treasured watch—
another ten. But if you’ve ever experienced the pain of losing someone you love (and
we all have or will), the scale shifts; your whole perspective shifts. Suddenly, losing
your job is not great, but tolerable. The watch is gone, but it was just an object. Your
body may be imperfect, but it’s given you some great experiences. Use the awareness
of what deep pain really is to keep smaller disruptions in perspective. And when you
must face a truly devastating ten, own it, take the time to heal it. This is not about
reducing the impact of all negative experiences; it’s about gaining a clearer view of
them. And sometimes a ten is a ten.

SLOW IT DOWN
Sometimes reframing works best on paper. Imagine a monkey swinging from branch
to branch at full throttle. It takes e ort to grab its attention and force it to focus.
When your mind is anxious and racing, when your thoughts are repetitive and
unproductive, when you feel like you need to press pause, take fteen minutes to
write down every thought that enters your mind.
For a study, a group of college students spent fteen minutes a day for four days
writing their “deepest thoughts and feelings” about the most traumatic experience of
their lives. Not only did the students say they found the experience to be valuable, 98
percent said they’d like to do it again. But they didn’t just enjoy the writing, it also
improved their health. Students who’d written about traumatic experiences had
fewer visits to the university health center after the study. The researchers concluded
that one of the bene ts of the writing may have been helping students render their
worst experiences as a coherent narrative. Distancing themselves from the moment in
this way allowed them to see the experiences objectively and, one hopes, to conjure a
happy ending.
Writer Krysta MacGray was terri ed of ying. She tried white knuckling it. She
tried logic. She even tried having a few drinks. But every time she knew she’d have to
y, she spent weeks in advance imagining what her kids’ lives would be like after she
went down in a ery crash. MacGray started blogging about this fear as a means of
trying to gain perspective, and it was then she realized she was on track to become
her grandmother, who refused to y and missed out on a lot because of it. So
MacGray started listing everything she wanted to do in her life that would be worth
ying for. Though she hasn’t totally conquered her fear, she did manage to take a
bucket-list vacation to Italy with her husband. Writing by itself doesn’t solve all of
our problems, but it can help us gain critical perspective we can use to nd solutions.
If you don’t like writing, you can speak into your phone, then play back the audio
le or read the transcript (many phones can transcribe spoken words into text).
Recording yourself puts you in an observer mindset, making you deal more
objectively with yourself.
Another option is to simply repeat an ancient samurai saying that the monks use:
“Make my mind my friend,” over and over in your head. When you repeat a phrase,
it quiets the default mode network—the area of the brain associated with mind
wandering and thinking about yourself. The monkey will be forced to stop and
listen.

FIND SELF-COMPASSION
When the anxious monkey mind stops to listen, you can tweak the internal
monologue with self-compassion. When anxious thoughts arise, instead of indulging
them, we respond with compassion. “I know you’re worried and upset, and you feel
like you can’t handle this, but you are strong. You can do it.” Remember, it’s about
observing your feelings without judging them.
With my friends at the branding company Shareability, I did an exercise with a
small group of teenage girls and their sisters. I asked the girls to write down negative
thoughts they had that a ected their self-esteem. They wrote down things like “You
are scared,” “You are worthless,” “You are unimportant.” Then I asked them to read
what they’d written to their sisters, as if it were about them.
They all refused. “It’s not very nice.” One pointed out that it was normal in her
head, but completely di erent when she spoke it.
We say things to ourselves that we would never say to people we love. We all know
the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. To that I
would add: Treat yourself with the same love and respect you want to show to
others.

TRY THIS: NEW SCRIPTS FOR THE CHARIOTEER

1. Write a list of the negative things you say to yourself. Next to each one write down how
you would present that idea to someone you care about. For example, these are the
negative thoughts the sisters wrote down about themselves along with how they might
have presented them to their sisters:

“You are scared” “It’s okay to feel scared. How can I help you through this?”

“You are “You feel worthless—let’s talk about what you love about yourself.”
worthless”

“You are “These things make you feel unimportant. Before we talk about how to
unimportant” change that, let’s list what makes you feel important.”

2. Imagine you found out that your child or best friend or cousin or someone who is dear to
you was getting a divorce. What is your first reaction? What would you say to the person?
What advice would you give them? You might say, “I’m sorry, I know this is a hard time.” Or
“Congratulations. I know you’re going through a lot, but people rarely ever regret getting
divorced.” We would never tell a loved one, “You’re an idiot. You must be a loser if you
married that loser.” We give love and support, maybe offering ideas and solutions. This is
how we should talk to ourselves.

We are de ned by the narrative that we write for ourselves every day. Is it a story
of joy, perseverance, love, and kindness, or is it a story of guilt, blame, bitterness, and
failure? Find a new vocabulary to match the emotions and feelings that you want to
live by. Talk to yourself with love.

STAY PRESENT
It can be hard to know what to tell your monkey mind when it’s dwelling on the past
or spinning into the future. Father Richard Rohr writes, “All spiritual teaching—this
is not an oversimpli cation—is about how to be present to the moment.… But the
problem is, we’re almost always somewhere else: reliving the past or worrying about
the future.”
We all have happy memories that we enjoy revisiting and painful memories that
we can’t let go. But both nostalgia and remorse can be traps, closing us o from new
experiences and keeping us locked in the unresolved past and/or the good old days.
Just as the past is unchangeable, the future is unknowable. A certain amount of
planning is useful and good preparation for the various scenarios ahead, but when
these thoughts tip into repetitive anxiety and worry or unrealistic aspirations, they
are no longer productive.
Whether it feels like the world’s falling down around you or you’re just having a
bad day at work, the challenges to presence abound. Realistically, you’ll never reach a
point in your life when you’re present 100 percent of the time—that’s not the goal.
After all, thinking about good times we’ve had or valuable lessons we’ve learned in
the past and planning for our future are excellent uses of our mental bandwidth.
What we don’t want to do is waste time on regret or worry. Practicing presence helps
us do as spiritual teacher Ram Dass advised and “be here now.”
When your mind continually returns to thoughts of the past or the future, look
for clues in the present. Is your mind seeking to shield or distract you? Instead of
thinking about what mattered in the past or what the future might hold, gently
guide your mind back to the moment. Ask yourself questions about right now.

What is missing from this moment?

What is unpleasant about today?
What would I like to change?

Ideally, when we talk to ourselves about the present, we look back on the negative
and positive elements of the past as the imperfect road that brought us to where we
are—a life that we accept, and from which we can still grow. And, ideally, we also
think of the future in context of the present—an opportunity to realize the promise
of today.

NOTHING OWNS YOU

When we talk to ourselves as we would to a loved one, just as when we observe the
argument between the child mind and the adult mind, we’re creating a distance
between ourselves and our own minds in order to see more clearly. We’ve discussed
this approach before; instead of reacting emotionally, monks gain perspective by
stepping out of a situation to become objective observers. In Chapter Three, we
talked about stepping away from fear, and we gave this action a name—detachment.
The crane stands still in water, ignoring the small sh as they pass by. Her stillness
allows her to catch the bigger sh.
Detachment is a form of self-control that has in nite bene ts across every form of
self-awareness that I talk about in this book, but its origin is always in the mind. The
Gita de nes detachment as doing the right thing for its own sake, because it needs to
be done, without worrying about success or failure. That sounds simple enough, but
think about what it takes to do the right thing for its own sake. It means detaching
from your sel sh interest, from being right, from being seen in a certain way, from
what you want right now. Detaching means escaping the hold of the senses, of
earthly desires, of the material world. You have the perspective of an objective
observer.
Only by detaching can we truly gain control of the mind.
I’ve remixed some Zen stories, introducing new characters so that they’re more
relatable. One of them is about a monk who arrives at the entrance to a palace. She’s
a known holy woman, so she is brought to the king, who asks the monk what she
wants. “I would like to sleep in this hotel for the night,” says the monk.
 The king is rather taken aback at this unexpected lack of respect. “This is not a
hotel, it is my palace!” he says haughtily.
The monk asks, “Who owned this place before you?”
The king folds his arms across his chest. “My father. I am heir to the throne,” he
declares.
“Is he here now?”
“He is not. He is dead. What is the meaning of this?”
“And before your father, who was the owner?”
“His father,” the king shouts.
The monk nods. “Ah,” she says, “so people who come to this place, stay here for a
while, and then continue their journey. Sounds like a hotel to me.”
This story gives a window into the illusion of permanence with which we all live.
A more recent window is Tidying Up with Marie Kondo, the show where Kondo
helps people “declutter” their lives, and at the end, over and over again, you’ll see
people weeping with relief and joy at having purged so much. That’s because they’ve
just dramatically decreased the number of things they’re attached to. Attachment
brings pain. If you think something is yours or you think you are something, then it
hurts to have it taken away from you.
A quote from Alī, cousin and son-in-law of the Prophet Muhammed, best
explains the monk idea of detachment: “Detachment is not that you own nothing,
but that nothing should own you.” I love how this summarizes detachment in a way
that it’s not usually explained. Usually people see detachment as being removed from
everything, not caring. Marie Kondo isn’t telling people to stop caring—she is telling
them to look for joy. Actually, the greatest detachment is being close to everything
and not letting it consume and own you. That’s real strength.
Like most monk endeavors, detachment is not a destination one arrives at, but a
process one must constantly, consciously undertake. It’s hard enough to detach in an
ashram, where monks own almost nothing but our ideas and identities. In the
modern world we can strive for detachment—particularly when we face a challenge
like an argument or a decision—and hope to achieve it eetingly.

DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME

Monks go to extremes to achieve detachment. I don’t expect you to do this, but after
we look at how it works, we’ll talk about more practical, even fun, ways to
experiment with detachment and the bene ts it yields.
Experiments in discomfort—like fasting, silence, meditating in heat or cold, and
others we’ve discussed—detach you from the body because they make you realize
how much of the discomfort is in the mind. Another way we monks tested our
detachment was to travel with nothing. No food, no shelter, no money. We had to
fend for ourselves and recognize that we needed very little to get by. It also made us
more grateful for all that we had. All of these exercises helped us push ourselves to
the limit—mentally and physically—to build resolve, resilience, grit, to strengthen
our ability to control our minds.
The rst time I did a full-day fast, consuming no food or water, I spent the rst
few hours feeling desperately hungry. We weren’t supposed to take naps while we
were fasting—the point was to have the experience, not to avoid it with sleep. I had
to use my intellect to soothe myself. I had to become absorbed in something higher
to let go of these hungry thoughts.
As the day went on, I realized that because my body didn’t need to think about
what to eat, to prepare for a meal, to consume, or to digest, I actually had more of a
di erent sort of energy.
When we fast, we detach from the body and all the time we spend attending to its
demands. When we remove eating, we can let go of hunger and satiety, pain and
pleasure, failure and success. We redirect our energy and attention to focus on the
mind. In future fasts, I got in the habit of using that energy to study, research, make
notes, or prepare a talk. Fasting became a creative time, free of distractions.
At the end of the fast, I felt physically tired, but mentally stronger. In functioning
without something my body relied on, I had broken a limit that existed in my mind.
I gained exibility and adaptability and resourcefulness. That experience with fasting
bled into the rest of my life.
Fasting is a physical challenge driven by the intellect. Being silent for long periods
of time brought up completely di erent issues—who was I when I detached from
other people?
I am on Day Nine of thirty days of silence and I think I’m losing my mind. Before
this I’ve definitely never kept my mouth shut for an entire day, much less a whole
month. Now, along with the group of monks who joined the ashram at the same time as
I did, I’ve gone for more than a week without speaking, watching, hearing, or
communicating in any other way. I’m a talker. I love sharing and hearing others’
experiences. In the silence, my mind is going wild. In quick succession I think of:

rap lyrics to songs I haven’t heard in a while

everything I have to read and learn for monk school
how everyone else is possibly enduring this
a random conversation I once had with an ex-girlfriend
what I would be doing at this very moment if I had taken a job instead of
becoming a monk counting down the days ’til I can speak again.

This is all in ten minutes.

 In my month-long silent retreat there is no outlet. I have no option but to go inward.
I must face my monkey mind and start conversations. I ask myself questions: Why do I
need to talk? Why can’t I just be in my thoughts? What can I find in silence that I can’t
get anywhere else? When my mind wanders, I return to my questioning.
I find, initially, that the silence and stillness help me discover new details in
familiar routines. More revelations follow, not as words but as experiences: I find
myself attuned to every part of my body. I feel the air against my skin, my breath
traveling through my body. My mind empties.
Over time, other questions emerge: I want to be part of a conversation. Why? I want
to connect with other people. Why? I need friendship to feel whole. Why do I feel that
friendship as an immediate need rather than a long-term comfort? My ego uses
friendship to feel secure in my choices. And then I see the work I need to do on my ego.
Often, in the emptiness, I repeat to myself “make your mind your friend,” and I
imagine that my mind and I are at a networking event. It’s loud, it’s hectic, there’s a lot
going on, but the only way to build a friendship is to start a conversation. And that’s
what I do.
Fasting and the other austerities that monks practice remind us that we can bear
greater hardship than we thought possible, that we can overcome the demands of the
senses with self-control and resolve. Regardless of their faith, most monks are
celibate, eat a highly restricted diet, and live apart from mainstream society. Then
there are the extremes. Jain monk Shri Hansratna Vijayji Maharaj Saheb fasted for
423 days (with a few breaks). Sokushinbutsu is the name for a Japanese style of self-
mummi cation practice where monks would eat a diet of pine needles, tree bark, and
resins, then give up food and water while they continued to chant mantras until
eventually their bodies petri ed.
You don’t have to take vows or eat pine needles to explore your limits. Often all
that holds us back from achieving the impossible is the belief that it is impossible.
From 1850 (when the rst accurately measured circular running tracks were made)
until 1954, the record for running a mile never dropped below four minutes.
Nobody had done it in less, and it was thought that nobody could. Then, in 1954,
British Olympian Roger Bannister set out to do it. He ran a mile in 3:59.4 minutes,
breaking the four-minute barrier for the rst time. Ever since, runners have been
breaking subsequent records at a much quicker pace. Once people realized there was
no limit, they pushed further and further.
There are everyday people, as well, who use austerities to up their game. People
consistently report that experimenting with extremes helps them be more thoughtful
and positive in their everyday lives. Let’s explore how you can use austerities to
detach.

HOW TO DETACH
All of the ways we’ve already talked about training the mind involve detaching:
becoming an objective observer of the competing voices in your head, having new
conversations with the conscious mind to reframe thoughts, nding compassion for
yourself, staying in the moment. Instead of reactively doing what we want, we
proactively evaluate the situation and do what is right.
Think of austerities as a detachment boot camp. Disconnect from the ideas that
limit you, open your mind to new possibilities, and, like a soldier training for battle,
you will nd that your intellect gets stronger. You’ll nd that you’re capable of more
than you ever imagined.
There are in nite austerities or challenges you can try: giving up TV or your
phone, sweets or alcohol; taking on a physical challenge; abstaining from gossip,
complaining, and comparing. The austerity that was most powerful for me was
meditating in cold or heat. The only way to escape the cold was to go inward. I had
to learn to redirect my attention from the physical discomfort by talking to my mind.
I still use this technique at the gym. If I’m doing crunches, I bring awareness to a part
of my body that doesn’t hurt. I don’t recommend this for psychological pain—I’m
not a stoic! But the skill of removing yourself from physical pain allows you to
tolerate it in a positive sense. When you know the pain has value—you’re getting
stronger at the gym; you’re serving food to children on a very hot day—you are able
to push yourself mentally and physically. You can focus on what is important instead
of being distracted by your discomfort.
We start with awareness. Spot the attachment. When do you experience it? When
are you most vulnerable to it? Let’s say you want to detach from technology. Do you
use it out of boredom, laziness, fear of missing out, loneliness? If you want to stop
drinking, look at the frequency and time of day. Are you using it to unwind, to
connect, to reward yourself, or to check out?
Once you have diagnosed the attachment, the next step is to stop and rethink it.
What do you want to add and what do you want to subtract? How much time do
you want to dedicate to technology, and in what form? Are there certain apps you
want to eliminate entirely, or do you want to limit the time that you spend using
your phone? For drinking, you might look at whether you think you need to quit
entirely, whether you want to experiment with a dry month to see what you learn
about yourself, or whether you want to limit yourself.
The third step is to swap in new behavior. There are two general approaches that
I recommend—choose the one that best suits your personality. The monk way is to
go all in. If immersion and extremes work best for you, you might commit to
eliminating social media entirely for a week or a month. Or you might, as I mention
above, go on the wagon for a month. If you work better in slow, gradual iterations,
make a small change and build on it. In the case of technology, you could limit the
amount of time you allow yourself to be online, or perhaps limit, but don’t fully
eliminate, certain apps.
 Decide how you want to spend your newfound time. If you want to minimize
your YouTube time, look for another way to nd that relaxation or decompression.
Meditation is my rst go-to. If you’re cutting back on social media, do you want to
spend the time interacting with friends in real life rather than online? Perhaps, as a
project, you could select which of those Instagram photos deserve to go in an album
or on your walls. Use your found time to ful ll the same need or to accomplish the
projects and to-dos that always linger on the back burner.
At rst, when we make a change, the mind may rebel. Look for ways to ease the
transition. If I want to eat less sugar, reading studies linking sugar to cancer
strengthens my intellect and motivates me to persist. At the same time, my wife sets
up what I call “The worst snack drawer of all time.” There is nothing “bad” in it, no
junk food. My senses don’t have access to snacks. I also look for natural habits that
curb my desire. I notice that after I go to the gym, I eat less sugar. For me, going to
the gym wakes up the charioteer. Realizing that I turn to sugar to increase my energy
and improve my mood, I look for other, healthier activities that have a similar e ect.
Once the initial pangs of desire abate, you’ll begin to feel the bene ts of
detachment. You’ll nd new clarity and perspective. You’ll feel more control over the
monkey mind, but you will also stop trying to control that which you can’t control.
The mind will quiet and you will make decisions without fear, ego, envy, or greed.
You will feel con dent and free from illusion. Though life remains imperfect, you
accept it as it is and see a clear path ahead.

MIND MAINTENANCE
Detachment doesn’t mean we completely ignore our bodies and our minds. The
body is a vessel. It contains us, so it’s important. We have to take care of it, feed it,
keep it healthy, but the vessel is just a carrier. What it carries is the real value. And the
mind, as we’ve talked about, is an important counterbalance to the intellect’s control
and restraint. Without his chariot, horse, and reins, the charioteer’s options are
limited. She is slow. Or he can’t travel far on his own. Or she can’t pick up a weary
traveler and help them on their journey. We do not want to eliminate the voices in
our heads or the body that carries them—we just want to steer them in the right
direction—but this means the charioteer’s work is never done.
We wake up with morning breath, smelly, tired. Every morning we accept the
need to brush our teeth and shower. We don’t judge ourselves for needing to wash
up. When we get hungry, we don’t say to ourselves, Oh my God, I’m the worst. Why
am I hungry again? Bring the same patience and understanding when you’re low on
motivation, unfocused, anxious, or addled and the charioteer is weak. Waking him
up is like taking a shower and feeding yourself, an everyday practice.
Matthieu Ricard, “the World’s Happiest Man,” told me that we should cultivate
inner peace as a skill. “If you ruminate on sadness and negativity,” he explained, “it
will reinforce a sense of sadness and negativity. But if you cultivate compassion, joy,
and inner freedom, then you build up a kind of resilience, and you can face life with
con dence.” When I asked him how we cultivate those skills, he said, “We train our
brains. In the end, it is your mind that translates the outside world into happiness or
misery.”

The good news is that the more practice you have at tuning in to your mind, the less
e ort it takes. Like a muscle that you exercise regularly, the skill grows stronger and
more reliable. If we work every day to cleanse our thoughts, gently redirecting the
ones that don’t serve us, then our minds are pure and calm, ready for growth. We can
deal with new challenges before they multiply and become unmanageable.
As the Bhagavad Gita advises, “Cultivate buddhi or your discriminating
intelligence to discern true knowledge, and practice wisdom so that you will know
the di erence between truth and untruth, reality and illusion, your false self and true
self, the divine qualities and demonic qualities, knowledge and ignorance and how
true knowledge illuminates and liberates while ignorance veils your wisdom and
holds you in bondage.”

Our ego is often what holds us back from true knowledge, steering the mind toward
impulse and impression. Next we will examine how it in uences the mind and how
we can bring it back down to size.
 EIGHT

EGO
Catch Me If You Can

They are forever free who renounce all selfish desires

and break away from the ego cage of “I,” “me,” and
“mine”
—Bhagavad Gita, 2:71

The Sanskrit word vinayam means “humility” or “modesty.”

When we are humble, we are open to learning because we
understand how much we don’t know. It follows that the biggest
obstacle to learning is being a know-it-all. This false self-
con dence is rooted in the ego.
The Bhagavad Gita draws a distinction between the ego and the
false ego. The real ego is our very essence—the consciousness that
makes us aware and awake to reality. The false ego is an identity
crafted to preserve our sense of being the most signi cant, the
most important, the one who knows everything. When you trust
the false ego to protect you, it’s like wearing armor that you
thought was made of steel but is actually made of paper. You
march onto the battle eld, con dent that it will protect you but
are easily wounded with a butter knife. The Sama Veda says,
“Pride of wealth destroys wealth, pride of strength destroys
strength and in the same manner pride of knowledge destroys
knowledge.”

THE EGO IS A MASK

An unchecked ego harms us. In our eagerness to present ourselves
as the greatest and smartest, we hide our true natures. I’ve
mentioned the persona that we present to the world. It is a
complex stew of who we are, who we want to be, how we hope to
be seen (as discussed in Chapter One), and what we are feeling in
any given moment. We are a certain person at home, alone, but we
present the world with another version of ourselves. Ideally, the
only di erence between the two is that our public persona is
working harder to be considerate, attentive, and generous. But
sometimes our egos intrude. Insecurities make us want to convince
ourselves and everyone else that we’re special, so we contrive a
dishonest version of ourselves in order to appear more
knowledgeable, more accomplished, more con dent. We present
this in ated self to others, and we do everything we can to protect
it: the self we want others to perceive. Fourth-century monk
Evagrius Ponticus (also called Evagrius the Solitary, because
sometimes monks get cool nicknames) wrote that pride is “the
cause of the most damaging fall for the soul.”
Vanity and ego go hand in hand. We put enormous e ort into
polishing the appearance of the self we present to the world. When
we dress and groom for ourselves, it is because we want to feel
comfortable and appropriate (easily achieved through a daily
“uniform”) and even because we appreciate the color or style of
certain clothes. But the ego wants more—it wants us to get
attention for how we look, a big reaction, praise. It nds
con dence and joy in impressing others. There is a meme that
shows Warren Bu ett and Bill Gates standing side by side. The
caption reads, “$162 Billion in one photo and not a Gucci belt in
sight.” I have nothing against Gucci belts, but the point is that if
you are satis ed with who you are, you don’t need to prove your
worth to anyone else.
To contemplate the di erence between yourself and your
persona, think about the choices you make when you’re alone,
when there’s nobody to judge you and nobody you’re trying to
impress. Only you know whether you choose to meditate or watch
Net ix, to take a nap or go for a run, to wear sweatpants or
designer threads. Only you know whether you eat a salad or a
column of Girl Scout cookies. Re ect on the you who emerges
when nobody else is around, no one to impress, no one with
something to o er you. That is a glimpse into who you truly are.
As the aphorism goes, “You are who you are when no one is
watching.”

THE EGO MAKES US LIARS

Sometimes the ego works so hard to impress others that it does
more than hype itself. It drives us to lie, and, counterproductively,
all that e ort only ends up making us look bad. For one of Jimmy
Kimmel’s “Lie Witness News” interviews with random people on
the street, he sent a camera crew to Coachella to ask people
walking into the venue what they thought of some completely
ctitious bands. The interviewer says to two young women, “One
of my favorite bands this year is Dr. Schlomo and the GI Clinic.”
“Yeah they’re always amazing,” says one of the women.
“Yeah, I’m really excited to see them live,” the other adds. “I
think that’s going to be one of the bands that’s going to be really
great live.”
“Did you see them when they played at Lollapalooza?”
“No, I didn’t. I’m so mad.”
Then she asks a group of three, “Are you guys as excited as I am
about the Obesity Epidemic?”
One of the guys responds enthusiastically, “I just like their
whole style, like their whole genre is great. They’re kind of like
innovative and they’re new.”
The ego craves recognition, acknowledgment, praise; to be
right, to be more, to put others down, to raise us up. The ego
doesn’t want to be better. It wants to be seen as better. When we
blu our way through life, pretending to be who we are not, we
end up looking worse than we truly are.
The story of Frank Abagnale Jr., told in his memoir Catch Me
If You Can and the movie of the same name, is a spot-on example
of the false ego in play. Abagnale was a talented con man, forging
and acting his way into jobs as an airplane pilot and a surgeon, jobs
he hadn’t earned and couldn’t perform. Wrapped up in his ego, he
used his natural abilities for low, sel sh purposes, and lost himself.
But after he was released from prison, he used the same skills and
talents to lead an honest life as a security consultant. Real ego—a
healthy self-image—comes from acting out your dharma for the
highest purposes. Presumably his stint in prison gave him time for
re ection and humility, and he found his way to a higher purpose.

THE EGO CREATES FALSE HIERARCHIES

Building a facade of con dence and knowledge isn’t the only
strategy the false ego uses to convince itself and everyone else that
it’s great. It also goes to great lengths to put other people down—
because if others are “less than” we are, then we must be special.
Our egos accomplish this by ranking ourselves and other people
based on physical attributes, education, net worth, race, religion,
ethnicity, nationality, the cars we drive, the clothes we wear—we
nd countless ways to judge others unfavorably just because
they’re di erent.
Imagine if we segregated people based on what toothpaste they
used. That divide is clearly ridiculous. Discriminating based on
elements of our bodies or where we were born is an equally false
divide. Why should skin color matter more than blood type? We
all come from the same cells. The Dalai Lama says, “Under the
bright sun, many of us are gathered together with di erent
languages, di erent styles of dress, even di erent faiths. However,
all of us are the same in being humans, and we all uniquely have
the thought of ‘I’ and we’re all the same in wanting happiness and
in wanting to avoid su ering.”
 In Chapter Five we talked about misappropriation of the
varnas in India’s caste system. The idea that Brahmins,
determined by birth, are superior to others and therefore should
have senior positions in government is an ego-driven
interpretation of the varnas. The humble sage values every
creature equally. This is why monks don’t eat animals. According
to the Gita, “Perfect yogis are they who, by comparison to their
own self, see the true equality of all beings, in both their happiness
and their distress.”
When success goes to our heads, we forget that everyone is
equal. No matter who you are or what you’ve achieved, notice if
you are expecting or demanding special treatment because of your
presumed status. Nobody deserves a better seat in the theater of
life. You might wait in line for hours the night before the tickets go
on sale, pay more for a closer seat, or be given a better view out of
gratitude for your support of the theater. Or you might simply
hope for a better seat as most of us do. But if you feel like you are
entitled to better, dig into that feeling. What makes you better
than the other audience members? The arrogant ego desires
respect, whereas the humble worker inspires respect.
I often wonder what it would take for all of us to see each other
as citizens of the world. I shot a couple of videos for the Ad
Council as part of a public service campaign called “Love Has No
Labels.” In Orlando I spoke to people about the aftermath of the
Pulse nightclub shooting and heard stories from diverse members
of the communities about how they came together in the
aftermath of this tragedy. I met with Reverend Terri Steed Pierce,
from a church near Pulse with many LGBTQ+ congregants, and
Pastor Joel Hunter, whose congregation is mostly white and
straight. In the aftermath of the tragedy, they worked together and
became friends. “Somebody will nd hope merely because we’re
having the conversation,” Reverend Pierce said, and Dr. Hunter
added, “And that is the bottom line of what will change the
future.” As Reverend Pierce put it, they are “two very like-minded
people that want to make a di erence in the world.”
 The question this beautiful friendship evokes is: Why does it
take a tragedy for us to come together? Our ego sets us on a
path where we put more value on ourselves and those whom we
recognize as being “like us.” Why is it that we walk this path until a
bulldozer plows through it? Presuming equality keeps the ego in
check. Whenever you think someone’s status or worth is less than
yours, turn your gaze back toward yourself and look for why your
ego feels threatened. It is core to monks to treat everyone with
equal honor and respect.

JUDGMENT
Even without segregating, outwardly ranking ourselves, or
excluding others, we attempt to elevate ourselves by judging
others, including our colleagues, friends, and family. There’s a Zen
story about four monks who together decide to meditate in
complete silence for seven days and nights. The rst day goes well,
but as evening approaches, the rst monk grows impatient because
the monk whose job it was to light the lamps is still sitting,
motionless. Finally, the rst monk erupts, “Friend! Light the
lamps, already!”
The second monk turns to him. “You broke the silence!” he
exclaims.
The third monk jumps in, “Fools! Now you have both broken
the silence!”
The fourth looks at his companions, a proud smile creeping
across his face. “Well, well, well,” he boasts, “Looks like I’m the
only one who has remained silent.”
Every monk in this story reprimanded another monk for
speaking and, in so doing, became guilty of that same sin himself.
That is the nature of judgment: It almost always back res on us in
one way or another. In the act of criticizing others for failing to
live up to higher standards, we ourselves are failing to live up to the
highest standards.
 In many cases, we’re passing judgment to de ect others’
attention or our own from shortcomings we see in ourselves.
“Projection” is the psychological term for our tendency to project
onto others emotions or feelings that we don’t wish to deal with
ourselves. And projection happens a lot! So, before judging others,
pause for a moment and ask: Am I finding fault in order to distract
myself or others from my own insecurities? Am I projecting my own
weakness onto them? And even if I’m doing neither of those things,
am I any better than the person I’m criticizing? I can’t say what the
answers to the rst two questions will be in every case. But the
answer to the third question is always “No!”

THE EGO IS AN OBSTACLE TO GROWTH

All of this arti ce leaves us in ignorance. Like Frank Abagnale,
who didn’t make the e ort to actually qualify as a pilot or a
doctor, our e orts to construct an impressive facade distract us
from learning and growing. Even those of us who aren’t con artists
miss out. When you’re sitting in a group of people, waiting for
someone to nish talking so you can tell your fabulous story or
make a witty comment, you’re not absorbing the essence of what’s
being said. Your ego is champing at the bit, ready to show how
clever and interesting you are.
In our desire to show ourselves and others that we know it all,
we jump to conclusions, fail to listen to our friends, and miss
potentially valuable new perspectives. And once we’ve got a point
of view, we’re unlikely to change it. In her popular TED Talk,
“Why You Think You’re Right Even When You’re Wrong,” Julia
Galef, host of the podcast Rationally Speaking, calls that rigidity
“soldier mindset.” A soldier’s job is to protect and defend their
side. Conversely, there’s the “scout mindset.” Galef says, “Scout
mindset means seeing what’s there as accurately as you can, even if
it’s not pleasant.” Soldiers have already signed on to a cause, so
they value continuity. Scouts are investigating their options, so
they value truth. Soldier mindset is rooted in defensiveness and
tribalism; scout mindset is rooted in curiosity and intrigue.
Soldiers value being on the right side; scouts value being objective.
Galef says whether we’re a soldier or a scout has less to do with our
level of intelligence or education and more to do with our attitude
about life.
Are we ashamed or grateful when we discover we were wrong
about something? Are we defensive or intrigued when we nd
information that contradicts something we believe? If we aren’t
open-minded, we deny ourselves opportunities to learn, grow, and
change.

INSTITUTIONAL EGO
It isn’t just individuals whose egos limit their perspectives.
Governments, schools, and organizations—under close-minded
leadership—fail to look beyond what they know and end up
constructing an ego-driven culture. Elected o cials ght for their
constituents and/or donors, without concern for the world
beyond their supporters and those who will come after we all have
gone. Textbooks tell history from the perspective of the winners.
Organizations get trapped in business-as-usual mindsets, without
responding to changes around them. When Reed Hastings, the
cofounder of Net ix, o ered to sell a 49 percent stake in the
company to Blockbuster in 2000, he was turned down. Ten years
later Blockbuster went bankrupt, and today Net ix is worth at
least $100 billion. There is danger in the words “We’ve always
done it this way,” or “I already know that.”
The Blockbuster/Net ix story is well known in the tech world,
so when I told it to around seventy marketing directors at a
conference, I asked them, “How many of you, when I shared this,
felt you already knew what I was going to say?” About half of
them raised their hands, and I told them that the conviction that
they already knew what they needed to know was exactly the
problem that these companies had. When you presume
knowledge, you put up a barrier that nothing can cross, and miss
out on a potential learning opportunity. What if there was an extra
piece of that story? (This point itself was the extra piece.) You can
write o the familiar, or you can use it as a deeper re ection point.
Even if you think you already know a story, try to live it as a new
experience every time.
Nan-in, a Zen master, received a university professor who had
come to inquire about Zen. When Nan-in served tea, he poured
his visitor’s cup full, and then kept on pouring. The professor
watched the over ow until he no longer could restrain himself. “It
is overfull. No more will go in!”
“Like this cup,” Nan-in said, “you are full of your own
opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you
rst empty your cup?” You can only be lled up with knowledge
and rewarding experiences if you allow yourself to be empty.

THE EGO ISOLATES US

When a Roman general returned from victorious battles, it is said
that it was customary to have a slave stand behind him whispering
“Remember you are a man” in his ear. No matter how well he had
done and how lauded he was for his leadership, he was still a man,
like all other men. If you’re at the top of your game, beware. Ego
isolates you. Don’t live in a world where you start thinking you’re
so special that one person is worth your time and another isn’t.
In an interview, Robert Downey Jr., o ered a modern version
of the same wisdom. When he’s at home, he isn’t Iron Man. He
said, “When I walk into my house people aren’t like, ‘Whoa!’
Susan’s like, ‘Did you let Monty out? Did you let the cat out?’ I’m
like, ‘I don’t know.’ She’s like, ‘I don’t think he’s in the house—go
look for him.’ ” This is a reminder to him (and to us) that even a
movie star is just a person in their own home. If you believe you’re
Iron Man, it should be because you can actually do what Iron
Man does. If you inspire special treatment, it is because people
appreciate you, but when you demand or feel entitled to it, you are
looking for respect that you haven’t earned.

THE DOUBLE-EDGED EGO

The false self that builds us up, just as easily tears us down. When
our weaknesses are exposed, the ego that once told us we were
brilliant and successful has no defense. Without our personas, our
lies, our prejudices, we are nothing, as Frank Abagnale must have
felt when he was arrested. Egotism often masks, then transforms
into, low self-esteem. In both circumstances, we are too wrapped
up in ourselves and how others perceive us.
You can only keep up the myth of your own importance for so
long. If you don’t break your ego, life will break it for you.
I’ve been at the ashram for three years, and I’ve been struggling
with my health. I may not be this body, but I still need to live in it. I
end up in the hospital, exhausted, emaciated, lost.
I’m here undergoing Ayurvedic treatment for two months. The
monks visit and read to me, but I’m alone, and in my solitude two
things come to me.
First, I am not physically cut out for the life I’m trying to live.
Second, and more disturbingly, to live in the ashram may not be my
calling. My drive to spread wisdom doesn’t fit perfectly into the
monk framework. I am compelled to share ideas and philosophy in
ways that are more modern. This may be my dharma, but it is not
the goal of being a monk. It is not the sacred practice.
I don’t know if this path is for me.
This thought hits me, and it upsets me deeply. I can’t see myself
leaving. And I wonder if my doubts come from my physical state.
Am I in the right frame of mind to make a decision?
When I leave the hospital, I go to London for further medical
attention. Radhanath Swami and I go for a drive. I tell him what
I’ve been thinking. He listens for a while, asks some questions, thinks.
Then he says, “Some people who go to university become professors,
and some go to university and become entrepreneurs. Which is
better?”
“Neither,” I say.
“You’ve done your training. I think it’s best for you to move on
now.”
I am stunned. I didn’t expect him to come down on one side so
quickly and definitively. I can tell he doesn’t see me as a failure, but
I can’t help projecting that onto myself. I have failed, and he is
breaking up with me. Like he is saying, “It’s not you, it’s me, it’s not
working out.”
Not only am I reeling with the idea of giving up my leaders, my
plans, my dream, but this is a huge blow to my ego. I’ve invested so
much of myself in this place, this world, and all my future plans are
based on that decision. But I know it’s not the right path, and my
teachers know it’s not the right path. I won’t achieve what I set out to
do. Furthermore, I’d taken the enormous step of declaring this path
to my family, my friends, and everyone I knew. My ego was wrapped
up in what they would think of me if I failed. Joining the ashram
was the hardest decision I’d ever made. Leaving is harder.
I move back to my parents with nothing, purposeless, broken,
consumed by my failure, with $25,000 of debt from college. It’s kind
of exciting to buy some chocolate, but it is only a circumstantial fix to
my existential crisis. I’d gone away thinking I was going to change
the world. Back in London, nobody knows what I’ve done or
understands its value. My parents aren’t sure how to engage with me
or what to tell their friends. My extended family is asking my
parents if I’ve come to my senses. My college friends are wondering if
I’m going to get a “real” job. They’re kind of like, “You failed at
being a monk? You failed at thinking about nothing?”
My biggest dream has been destroyed, and I feel the blow to my
ego deeply. It is one of the toughest, most humiliating, crushing
experiences of my life. And one of the most important.
 Though the monks couldn’t have been more supportive of me
and my decision, leaving the ashram upended everything that
made me con dent in who I was and what I was doing. When my
world was rocked, my self-esteem plummeted. Low self-esteem is
the ip side of an in ated ego. If we’re not everything, we’re
nothing. If I was not this man of high intentions and deep
spirituality, then I was a failure. If I’m not great, I’m terrible. The
two extremes are equally problematic. Sometimes it takes the
de ated ego to show you what the in ated ego thought of itself. I
was humbled.

HUMILITY: THE ELIXIR OF THE EGO

The ego is two-faced. One moment it tells us we’re great at
everything, and the next moment it tells us we’re the worst. Either
way, we are blind to the reality of who we are. True humility is
seeing what lies between the extremes. I’m great at some things and
not so good at others. I’m well intentioned but imperfect. Instead of
the ego’s all or nothing, humility allows us to understand our
weaknesses and want to improve.
In the tenth canto of the Srimad-Bhagavatam, Lord Brahma,
the god of creation, prays to Krishna, the supreme god. He is
apologizing to Krishna, because in the course of building the
world, Brahma has been pretty impressed with himself. Then he
encounters Krishna, and he confesses that he is like a re y.
At night, when a re y glows, it thinks, How bright I am. How
amazing! I’m lighting up the whole sky! But in the light of day, no
matter how brightly the re y glows, its light is weak, if not
invisible, and it realizes its insigni cance. Brahma realizes that he
thought he was lighting the world, but when Krishna brings the
sun out, he realizes that he is no more than a re y.
In the darkness of the ego we think we’re special and powerful
and signi cant, but when we look at ourselves in context of the
great universe, we see that we only play a small part. To nd true
humility, like the re y, we must look at ourselves when the sun is
out and we can see clearly.

PRACTICE HUMILITY
At the ashram, the most straightforward path to humility was
through simple work, menial tasks that didn’t place any
participant at the center of attention. We washed huge pots with
hoses, pulled weeds in the vegetable garden, and washed down the
squat toilets—the worst! The point wasn’t just to complete the
work that needed to be done. It was to keep us from getting big-
headed. I’ve talked about how impatient I was with some of this
work. Why was I wasting my expertise picking up trash? The
monks said that I was missing the point. Some tasks build
competence, and some build character. The brainless activities
annoyed me, but eventually I learned that doing an activity that
was mentally unchallenging freed space for re ection and
introspection. It was worthwhile after all.
Performing mundane tasks at an ashram isn’t exactly replicable
in the modern world, but anyone can try this simple mental
exercise we used to become more aware of our ego on a daily basis.
We were taught that there are two things we should try to
remember and two things we should try to forget.
The two things to remember are the bad we’ve done to others
and the good others have done for us. By focusing on the bad
we’ve done to others, our egos are forced to remember our
imperfections and regrets. This keeps us grounded. When we
remember the good others have done for us, we feel humbled by
our need for others and our gratitude for the gifts we have
received.
The two things that we were told to forget are the good we’ve
done for others and the bad others have done to us. If we xate on
and are impressed by our own good deeds, our egos grow, so we
put those deeds aside. And if others treat us badly, we have to let
that go too. This doesn’t mean we have to be best friends with
someone hurtful, but harboring anger and grudges keeps us
focused on ourselves instead of taking a broader perspective.
I heard another way of thinking about this from Radhanath
Swami when he was giving a talk at the London temple about the
qualities we need for self-realization. He told us to be like salt and
pointed out that we only notice salt when there is too much of it
in our food, or not enough. Nobody ever says, “Wow, this meal
has the perfect amount of salt.” When salt is used in the best way
possible, it goes unrecognized. Salt is so humble that when
something goes wrong, it takes the blame, and when everything
goes right, it doesn’t take credit.
In 1993, Mary Johnson’s son, Laramiun Byrd, was just twenty
years old when, after an argument at a party, he was shot in the
head by sixteen-year-old Oshea Israel, who served more than
fteen years in prison for the killing. Johnson probably had the
most valid reason any of us can imagine for hating someone, and
hate Israel she did. Eventually, it struck her that she wasn’t the
only one hurting; Israel’s family had lost their son too. Johnson
decided to start a support group called From Death to Life for
other mothers whose children had been killed, and she wanted to
include mothers whose children had taken a life. Johnson didn’t
think she could deal with the mothers of murderers unless she
truly forgave Israel, so she reached out and asked to speak to him.
When they met, he asked if he could hug her. She says, “As I got
up, I felt something rising from the soles of my feet and leaving
me.” After the initial meeting, the pair began to meet regularly,
and when Israel was released from prison, Johnson spoke to her
landlord and asked if Israel could move into her building.
“Unforgiveness is like cancer. It will eat you from the inside out,”
says Johnson. She wears a necklace with a double-sided locket; on
one side is a picture of her with her son, and on the other is a
picture of Israel, who says he is still trying to forgive himself. The
pair, who now live next door to each other, visit prisons and
churches to talk about their story and the power of forgiveness.
 Remembering your mistakes and forgetting your achievements
restrains the ego and increases gratitude—a simple, e ective recipe
for humility.

KEEP AN EYE ON YOUR EGO

With increased awareness, we begin to notice speci c moments or
circumstances when our egos are.
Once a group from the ashram backpacked across Scandinavia,
hosting pop-up meditations in city centers. Most people we
encountered were very warm, interested in health, and open to
meditation. But at one of our stops in Denmark I went up to a
gentleman and asked, “Have you heard of meditation? We’d love
to teach you.”
He said, “Couldn’t you do anything better with your life?”
My ego ared. I wanted to say, “I’m not stupid. I’m smart! I
graduated from a really good school! I could be making six gures.
I didn’t have to do this—I chose it!” I really wanted to set this guy
straight.
Instead I said, “I hope you have a wonderful day. If you want to
learn how to meditate, please come back.”
I felt my ego respond. I noticed it but refused to indulge it.
This is the reality of keeping our ego in check. It doesn’t
disappear, but we can observe it and limit its power over us.
True humility is one step beyond simply repressing the ego as I
did. In a class at the London temple, some of my fellow monks
were being rude—laughing at the exercise we were doing and
talking when they should have been quiet. I looked to our teacher,
Sutapa, who was the head monk in London. I expected Sutapa to
reprimand them, but he stayed quiet. After class, I asked him why
he tolerated their behavior.
“You’re looking at how they’re behaving today,” he said. “I’m
looking at how far they’ve come.”
 The monk was remembering the good they’d done and
forgetting the bad. He didn’t take their behavior as a re ection of
himself, or of their respect for him. He took a longer view that had
nothing to do with himself.
If someone is treating you badly, I’m not advising you to
tolerate it like the monk. Some mistreatment is unacceptable. But
it’s useful to look beyond the moment, at the bigger picture of the
person’s experience—Are they exhausted? Frustrated? Making
improvements from where they once were?—and to factor in
what has led to this behavior, before letting your ego jump in.
Everyone has a story, and sometimes our egos choose to ignore
that. Don’t take everything personally—it is usually not about
you.

DETACH FROM YOUR EGO

The monk and I both used the same approach to quiet our egos.
We detached from the reaction and became objective observers.
We think we’re everything we’ve achieved. We think we’re our job.
We think we are our home. We think we are our youth and beauty.
Recognize that whatever you have—a skill, a lesson, a possession,
or a principle—was given to you, and whoever gave it to you
received it from someone else. This isn’t directly from the
Bhagavad Gita, but to summarize how it sees detachment, people
often say, “What belongs to you today, belonged to someone
yesterday and will be someone else’s tomorrow.” No matter
what you believe in spiritually, when you recognize this, then you
see that you’re a vessel, an instrument, a caretaker, a channel for
the greatest powers in the world. You can thank your teacher and
use the gift for a higher purpose.
Detachment is liberating. When we aren’t de ned by our
accomplishments, it takes the pressure o . We don’t have to be the
best. I don’t have to be Denmark’s most impressive visiting monk.
My teacher doesn’t have to see his students sit in stunned wonder
at every moment.
 Detaching inspires gratitude. When we let go of ownership, we
realize that all we have done has been with the help of others:
parents, teachers, coaches, bosses, books—even the knowledge and
skills of someone who is “self-made” have their origins in the work
of others. When we feel grateful for what we’ve accomplished, we
remember not to let it go to our heads. Ideally, gratitude inspires
us to become teachers and mentors in our own way, to pass on
what we’ve been given in some form.

TRY THIS: TRANSFORMING EGO

Look out for these opportunities to detach from your ego and put forth a
thoughtful, productive response.

1. Receiving an insult. Observe your ego, take a broader view of the

person’s negativity, and respond to the situation, not the insult.
2. Receiving a compliment or accolades. Take this opportunity to be
grateful for the teacher who helped you further this quality.
3. Arguing with a partner. The desire to be right, to win, comes from
your ego’s unwillingness to admit weakness. Remember you can be
right, or you can move forward. See the other person’s side. Lose the
battle. Wait a day and see how it feels.
4. Topping people. When we listen to others, we often one-up them with
a story that shows how we have it better or worse. Instead, listen to
understand and acknowledge. Be curious. Don’t say anything about
yourself.

STEP OUTSIDE OF FAILURE

When we feel insecure—we aren’t where we want to be in our
careers, our relationships, or in reference to other milestones we’ve
set for ourselves—either the ego comes to our defense or our self-
esteem plummets. Either way, it’s all about us. In Care of the Soul,
psychotherapist and former monk Thomas Moore writes, “Being
literally undone by failure is akin to ‘negative narcissism.’… By
appreciating failure with imagination, we reconnect it to success.
Without the connection, work falls into grand narcissistic fantasies
of success and dismal feelings of failure.” Humility comes from
accepting where you are without seeing it as a re ection of who you
are. Then you can use your imagination to nd success.
 Sara Blakely wanted to go to law school, but despite taking the
exam twice, she didn’t pull the LSAT scores she wanted. Instead of
becoming an attorney, she spent seven years going door-to-door
selling fax machines, but she never forgot what her father taught
her. Every night at their dining room table, her dad would ask her
and her brother not “What did you do at school today?” but
“What did you fail at today?” Failing meant they were trying, and
that was more important than the immediate result. When Sara
got an idea to start her own company, she knew the only failure
would be if she didn’t try, so she took $5,000 of her own money
and started the business that just fteen years later would make her
a billionaire—Spanx. So often we don’t take chances because we
fear failure, and that often boils down to a fear of our egos getting
hurt. If we can get past the idea that we’ll break if everything
doesn’t go our way immediately, our capabilities expand
exponentially.
My own version of Blakely’s revelation came in London, a week
or so after I’d left the ashram.
I had believed that my dharma was to serve as a monk,
spreading wisdom and aid. Now, back at my childhood home, I
don’t want to settle for a lower purpose. What can I do? Our family
is not well off. I can’t just relax and wait for answers to come to me. I
am scared, nervous, anxious. All the things that I’ve been trained not
to be rush back at me.
One night, washing the dishes after dinner, I look out the window
above the sink. The garden is out there, but in the darkness, all I can
see is my own reflection. I wonder, What would I be doing if I were
in the ashram right now? It’s 7 p.m. I would probably be reading,
studying, or on my way to give a talk. I spend a moment visualizing
myself walking down a path in the ashram, on my way to the library
for an evening class. Then I think, It’s the same time of day here as
it is there. I have a choice right now. If I use this time wisely, I can
make this evening meaningful and purposeful, just as I would in
the ashram, or I can waste it in self-pity and regret.
 It is then that I let go of my deflated ego to realize that as a monk
I’ve been taught how to deal with anxiety, pain, and pressure. I am
no longer in a place where it is natural and easy to achieve those
goals, but I can put all I’ve learned to the test here in a louder, more
complicated world. The ashram was like school; this is the exam. I
have to earn money, and I won’t have the same quantity of time to
devote to my practice, but the quality is up to me. I can’t study
scripture for two hours, but I can read a verse every day and put it
into practice. I can’t clean temples to clean my heart, but I can find
humility in cleaning my home. If I see my life as meaningless, it will
be. If I find ways to live my dharma, I will be fulfilled.
I begin to get dressed every day, as if I have a job. I spend most of
my time at the library, reading broadly about personal
development, business, and technology. Humbled, I return to being a
student of life. It is a powerful way to reenter the world.
Being a victim is the ego turned inside out. You believe that the
worst things in the world happen to you. You get dealt the worst
cards.
When you fail, instead of giving in to a sense of victimhood,
think of the moment as a humility anchor, keeping you grounded.
Then ask yourself, “What is going to restore my con dence?” It
won’t grow from an external factor that’s beyond your control. I
couldn’t control whether someone gave me a job, but I focused on
nding a way to be myself and do what I loved. I knew I could
build con dence around that.

BUILD CONFIDENCE, NOT EGO

Here’s the irony: If you’ve ever pretended you know something,
you probably discovered that it often takes the same amount of
energy to feign con dence and feed vanity as it takes to work,
practice, and achieve true con dence.
Humility allows you to see your own strengths and weaknesses
clearly, so you can work, learn, and grow. Con dence and high
self-esteem help you accept yourself as you are, humble, imperfect,
and striving. Let’s not confuse an in ated ego with healthy self-
esteem.
The ego wants everyone to like you. High self-esteem is just ne
if they don’t. The ego thinks it knows everything. Self-esteem
thinks it can learn from anyone. The ego wants to prove itself.
Self-esteem wants to express itself.

The table above doesn’t just show the di erence between an

in ated ego and a healthy self-worth. It can be used as a guide to
grow your con dence. If you look closely, you will see that all of
the self-awareness that we have been developing serves to build the
interwoven qualities of humility and self-worth. Instead of
worrying what people will say, we lter what people will say.
Instead of comparing ourselves to others, we cleanse our minds
and look to improve ourselves. Instead of wanting to prove
ourselves, we want to be ourselves, meaning we aren’t distracted by
external wants. We live with intention in our dharma.

SMALL WINS
Accumulating small wins builds con dence. Olympic swimming
gold medalist Jessica Hardy says, “My long-term goals are what I
would consider to be my ‘dreams,’ and my short-term goals are
obtainable on a daily or monthly basis. I like to make my short-
term goals something that makes me feel better and sets me up to
better prepare for the long-term goals.”
 TRY THIS: WRITE DOWN THE AREAS IN WHICH YOU
REALLY WANT TO BE CONFIDENT
Health, career, relationship—pick one of these three.
Write down what is going to make you feel confident in this area,
something that’s realistic and achievable.
Break your area down into small wins. Things you can achieve today.

SOLICIT FEEDBACK
Con dence means deciding who you want to be without the
re ection of what other people think, but it also means being
inspired and led by others to become your best self. Spend time
with healed, wise, service-driven people and you will feel humbled
—and motivated toward healing, wisdom, and service.
TRY THIS: WRITE DOWN THE AREAS IN WHICH YOU
REALLY WANT TO BE CONFIDENT
Health, career, relationship—pick one of these three.
Write down what is going to make you feel confident in this area,
something that’s realistic and achievable.
Break your area down into small wins. Things you can achieve today.

When you ask for feedback, choose your advisors wisely. We

commonly make one of two mistakes when we seek feedback: We
either ask everyone for advice about one problem or we ask one
person for advice about all of our problems. If you ask too broadly,
you’ll get fty-seven di erent options and will be overwhelmed,
confused, and lost. On the other hand, if you drop all your
dilemmas on one person, then they’ll be overwhelmed,
unequipped, and at some point tired of carrying your baggage.
Instead, cultivate small groups of counsel around speci c areas.
Make sure you choose the right people for the right challenges.
We’ll go deeper into nding people who provide competence,
character, care, and consistency in Chapter Ten, but for now, in
order to recognize productive feedback, consider the source: Is this
person an authority? Do they have the experience and wisdom to
give you helpful advice? If you choose your advisors wisely, you’ll
get the right help when you need it without wearing out your
welcome.
The monk approach is to look to your guru (your guide),
sadhu (other teachers and saintly people), and shastra (scripture).
We look for alignment among these three sources. In the modern
world many of us don’t have “guides,” and if we do, we probably
don’t put them in a di erent category than teachers. Nor are all of
us followers of religious writings. But what the monks are going
for here is advice from trusted sources who all want the best for
you, but who o er di erent perspectives. Choose from those who
care most about your emotional health (often friends and family,
serving as gurus), those who encourage your intellectual growth
and experience (these could be mentors or teachers, serving as
sadhus), and those who share your values and intentions (religious
guides and/or scienti c facts, serving as shastras).
Always be alert to feedback that doesn’t come from the usual
suspects. Some of the most useful feedback is unsolicited, even
unintentional. Temper the ego by paying close attention to how
people react to you nonverbally. Do their expressions show
intrigue or boredom? Are they irritated, agitated, tired? Here,
again, it’s worth looking for alignment. Do many di erent people
drift o when you’re talking about a subject? It might be time to
pull back on that one.
When people o er their re ections, we must pick and choose
what we follow carefully and wisely. The ego wants to believe it
knows best, so it is quick to write o feedback as criticism. On the
ip side, sometimes the de ated ego sees criticism where it doesn’t
exist. If the response to your job application is a form letter saying,
“Sorry, we have lots of applications,” this is not useful feedback. It
says nothing about you.
The way around these obstacles is to lter the feedback. Re ect
instead of judging. Be curious. Don’t pretend you understand.
Ask clarifying questions. Ask questions that help you de ne
practical steps toward improvement.
The easy check to con rm that someone is o ering criticism in
good faith is to see if the person is willing to invest in your growth.
Are they just stating a problem or weakness, or do they want to
help you make a change, if not by taking action themselves, then at
least by suggesting ways to move forward?
When soliciting and receiving feedback, make sure you know
how you want to grow. Feedback often doesn’t tell you which
direction to follow, it just propels you on your way. You need to
make your own decisions and then take action. These three steps
—soliciting, evaluating, and responding to feedback—will increase
your con dence and self-awareness.

TRY THIS: RECEIVE FEEDBACK PRODUCTIVELY

Choose one area where you want to improve. It might be financial,
mental and emotional, or physical.
Find someone who is an expert in that field and ask for guidance.
Ask questions for clarity, specificity, and how to practically apply the
guidance to your individual situation.
Sample questions:

Do you think this is a realistic path for me?

Do you have any recommendations when it comes to timing?
Is this something you think others have noticed about me?
Is this something that needs retroactive repair (like apologies or
revisions), or is this a recommendation for how to move forward?
What are some of the risks of what you’re recommending?

DON’T BUY INTO YOUR OWN HYPE

If you are so lucky as to be successful, hear the same words those
victorious Roman generals heard: Remember you are but a man,
remember you will die. (Feel free to tweak the gender.) Instead of
letting your achievements go to your head, detach from them. Feel
gratitude for your teachers and what you have been given. Remind
yourself who you are and why you are doing the work that brings
you success.
Remember the bad and forget the good to keep your own
greatness in perspective. In high school I was suspended from
school three times for all sorts of stupidity. I’m ashamed of my
past, but it grounds me. I can look back and I think, No matter
what anyone says about me today or how I think I’ve grown, I have
anchors that humble me. They remind me of who I was and what I
might have become if I hadn’t met people who inspired me to change.
Like everyone, I got where I am through a mix of choices,
opportunities, and work.
You are not your success or your failure.
Sustain this humility after you’ve achieved something too.
When you are complimented, commended, or rewarded, neither
lap it up nor reject it. Be gracious in the moment, and afterward
remind yourself of how hard you worked, and recognize the
sacri ces you made. Then ask yourself who helped you develop
that skill. Think of your parents, your teachers, your mentors.
Someone had to invest their time, money, and energy to make you
who you are today. Remember and give thanks to the people who
gave you the skills you’re getting recognition for. Sharing the
success with them keeps you humble.

REAL GREATNESS
You shouldn’t feel small compared to others, but you should feel
small compared to your goals. My own approach to remaining
humble in the face of success is to keep moving the goalposts. The
measure of success isn’t numbers, it’s depth. Monks aren’t
impressed by how long you meditate. We ask how deep you went.
Bruce Lee said, “I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks
once, but I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times.”
No matter what we achieve, we can aspire to greater scale and
depth. I’m not concerned with vanity metrics. I often say that I
want to take wisdom viral, but I want it to be meaningful. How
can I reach a lot of people but without losing an intimate
connection? Until the whole world is healed and happy, I haven’t
nished. Aiming higher and higher—beyond ourselves to our
community, our country, our planet—and realizing the ultimate
goal is unattainable is what keeps us humble.
Indeed, our goal of humility is ultimately unattainable.
The moment you feel like you have arrived, you’re starting the
journey again. This paradox is true for many things: If you feel
safe, that’s when you’re most vulnerable; if you feel infallible,
that’s when you’re at your weakest. André Gide said, “Believe
those who search for the truth; doubt those who have found it.”
Too often when you do good, you feel good, you live well, and you
start to say, “I got this,” and that’s when you fall. If I sat here and
said I had no ego, that would be a complete lie. Overcoming your
ego is a practice not an accomplishment.
Real greatness is when you use your own achievements to teach
others, and they learn how to teach others, and the greatness that
you’ve accomplished expands exponentially. Rather than seeing
achievement as status, think of the role you play in other people’s
lives as the most valuable currency. When you expand your vision,
you realize that even people who have it all derive the greatest
satisfaction from service.
No matter how much you help others, feel no pride because
there’s so much more to be done. Kailash Satyarthi is a children’s
rights activist who is dedicated to saving kids from exploitation.
His NGOs have rescued tens of thousands of children, but when
asked what his rst reaction was to winning the 2014 Nobel Peace
Prize, he responded, “The rst reaction? Well, I wondered if I had
done enough to be getting this award.” Satyarthi is humbled by
the knowledge of how much more there is to do. The most
powerful, admirable, captivating quality in any human is seen
when they’ve achieved great things, but still embrace humility and
their own insigni cance.
We have been digging deep into who you are, how you can lead a
meaningful life, and what you want to change. This is a lot of
growth, and it won’t happen overnight. To aid your e orts, I
suggest that you incorporate visualization into your meditation
practice. Visualization is the perfect way to heal the past and
prepare for the future.
 MEDITATION

VISUALIZE

During meditation, monks use visualization for the mind. When

we close our eyes and walk our mind to another place and time, we
have the opportunity to heal the past and prepare for the future.
In the next three chapters we are going to embark on a journey to
transform the way we see ourselves and our unique purpose in the
world. While we do so, we’ll use the power of visualization to assist
us.
Using visualization, we can revisit the past, editing the narrative
we tell ourselves about our history. Imagine you hated the last
thing you said to a parent who passed away. Seeing yourself in your
mind’s eye telling your parent how much you loved them doesn’t
change the past, but, unlike nostalgia and regret, it starts the
healing. And if you envision your hopes, dreams, and fears of the
future, you can process feelings before they happen, strengthening
yourself to take on new challenges. Before giving a speech, I often
prepare by visualizing myself going on stage to deliver it. Think of
it this way: Anything you see in the man-made world—this book,
a table, a clock—whatever it is, it existed in someone’s mind before
it came to be. In order to create something we have to imagine it.
This is why visualization is so important. Whatever we build
internally can be built externally.
Everyone visualizes in daily life. Meditation is an opportunity
to make this inclination deliberate and productive. Past or future,
big or small, you can use visualization to extract the energy from a
situation and bring it into your reality. For example, if you
meditate on a place where you feel happy and relaxed, your breath
and pulse shift, your energy changes, and you draw that feeling
into your reality.
Visualization activates the same brain networks as actually
doing the task. Scientists at the Cleveland Clinic showed that
people who imagined contracting a muscle in their little nger
over twelve weeks increased its strength by almost as much as
people who did actual nger exercises over the same period of
time. Our e orts are the same—visualization creates real changes
in our bodies.
I’ve mentioned that we can meditate anywhere. Visualization
can help you bring yourself into relaxation no matter what chaos
surrounds you. Once I took a two-to-three-day train trip from
Mumbai to South India on a crowded, lthy train. I found it
tough to meditate and said to my teacher, “I’m not going to
meditate right now. I’ll do it when we stop or when it’s calmer.”
My teacher asked, “Why?”
I said, “Because that’s what we do at the ashram.” I was used to
meditating in the serene ashram, surrounded by a lake and
benches and trees.
He said, “Do you think the time of death will be calm? If you
can’t meditate now, how will you meditate then?”
I realized that we were being trained to meditate in peace so
that we could meditate in chaos. Since then I’ve meditated in
planes, in the middle of New York City, in Hollywood. There are
distractions, of course, but meditation doesn’t eliminate
distractions, it manages them.
When I guide a meditation, I often begin by saying, “If your
mind wanders, return to your regular breathing pattern. Don’t get
frustrated or annoyed, just gently and softly bring your attention
back to your breathing, visualization, or mantra.” Meditation is
not broken when you’re distracted. It is broken when you let
yourself pursue the distracting thought or lose your concentration
and think, Oh, I’m so bad at this. Part of the practice of meditation
is to observe the thought, let it be, then come back to what you
were focusing on. If it isn’t hard, you’re not doing it right.
One important note: We want to choose positive visualizations.
Negative visualizations trap us in painful thoughts and images.
Yes, the “bad” in us emerges in meditation, but there’s no bene t
to imagining ourselves trapped in a gloomy maze. The whole point
is to visualize a path out of the darkness.
There are two kinds of visualization—set and exploratory. In a
set visualization, someone verbally guides you through a place. You
are at a beach. You feel the sand beneath your feet. You see a blue sky,
and you hear seagulls and the crash of waves. An exploratory
visualization asks you to come up with your own details. If I ask
meditation clients to imagine the place where they feel most at
ease, one might see herself riding a bike on a seaside trail, while
another might summon a tree house from his childhood.

TRY THIS: VISUALIZATION

Here are a few visualizations you can try. I also encourage you to go
online to download an app, or to visit a meditation center—there are
plenty of options out there to help your practice.
For the visualization exercises I describe below, begin your practice
with the following steps.

1. Find a comfortable position—sitting in a chair, sitting upright with a

cushion, or lying down.
2. Close your eyes.
3. Lower your gaze.
4. Make yourself comfortable in this position.
5. Bring your awareness to calm, balance, ease, stillness, and peace.
6. Whenever your mind wanders, just gently and softly bring it back to
calm, balance, ease, stillness, and peace.

BODY SCAN
1. Bring your awareness to your natural breathing pattern. Breathe in
and out.
2. Bring your awareness to your body. Become aware of where it
touches the ground, a seat, and where it does not. You may find that
your heels touch the ground but your arches don’t. Or your lower back
touches the bed or mat but your middle back is slightly raised.
Become aware of all these subtle connections.
3. Now begin to scan your body.
 4. Bring your awareness to your feet. Scan your toes, your arches, your
ankles, your heels. Become aware of the different sensations you
may feel. You may feel relaxed, or you may feel pain, pressure,
tingling, or something totally different. Become aware of it and then
visualize that you are breathing in positive, uplifting, healing energy
and breathing out any negative toxic energy.
5. Now move upward to your legs, calves, shins, and knees. Again, just
scan and observe the sensations.
6. Whenever your mind wanders, gently and softly bring it back to your
body. No force or pressure. No judgment.
7. At some point you may come across pain you were not aware of
before. Be present with that pain. Observe it. And again breathe into
it three times and breathe out three times.
8. You can also express gratitude for different parts of your body as you
scan them.
9. Do this all the way to the tip of your head. You can move as slowly or
as quickly as you like, but don’t rush.
CREATE A SACRED SPACE
1. Visualize yourself in a place that makes you feel calm and relaxed. It
might be a beach, a nature walk, a garden, or the top of a mountain.
2. Feel the ground, sand, or water beneath your feet as you walk in this
space.
3. Without opening your eyes, look left. What do you notice? Observe it
and keep walking.
4. Look right. What do you notice? Observe it and keep walking
5. Become aware of the colors, the textures, and the distances around
you.
6. What can you hear? The sounds of birds, water, or air?
7. Feel the air and wind on your face.
8. Find a calm, comfortable place to sit down.
9. Breathe in the calm, balance, ease, stillness, and peace.
10. Breathe out the stress, pressure, and negativity.
11. Go to this place whenever you feel you need to relax.
PRESENCE AND MENTAL PICTURE
Often the mental pictures we have form simply from the repetition of an
activity rather than because we have chosen them. Visualization can be
used to intentionally turn a moment into a memory. Use this visualization
to create a memory or to capture joy, happiness, and purpose. It can also
be used to deeply connect with an old memory, returning to a time and
place when you felt joy, happiness, and purpose. If you are creating a
memory, keep your eyes open. If you are reconnecting, then close them.
I use an anti-anxiety technique called 5-4-3-2-1. We are going to find
five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can
hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.
1. First, find five things you can see. Once you’ve found all five, give your
attention to one at a time, moving your focus from one to the next.
2. Now find four things you can touch. Imagine you are touching them,
feeling them. Notice the different textures. Move your focus from one
to the next.
3. Find three things you can hear. Move your focus from one to the
next.
4. Find two things you can smell. Is it flowers? Is it water? Is it nothing?
Move your focus from one to the next.
5. Find one thing you can taste.
6. Now that you have attended to every sense, breathe in the joy and
happiness. Take it inside your body. Let yourself smile naturally in
response to how it makes you feel.
7. You have now captured this moment forever and can return to it
anytime through visualization.
PART THREE

GIVE
 NINE

GRATITUDE
The World’s Most Powerful Drug

Appreciate everything, even the ordinary. Especially

the ordinary.
—Pema Chödrön

Once we have trained the mind to look inward, we are ready to

look outward at how we interact with others in the world. Today it
is common to talk about amplifying gratitude in our lives (we are
all #blessed), but attaching a hashtag to a moment is di erent from
digging to the root of all we’ve been given and bringing true,
intentional gratitude to our lives every day.
Benedictine monk Brother David Steindl-Rast de nes
gratitude as the feeling of appreciation that comes when “you
recognize that something is valuable to you, which has nothing to
do with its monetary worth.”
Words from a friend, a kind gesture, an opportunity, a lesson, a
new pillow, a loved one’s return to health, the memory of a blissful
moment, a box of vegan chocolates (hint, hint). When you start
your day with gratitude, you’ll be open to opportunities, not
obstacles. You’ll be drawn to creativity, not complaint. You will
nd fresh ways to grow, rather than succumbing to negative
thoughts that only shrink your options.
In this chapter we’re going to expand our awareness of
gratitude and why it’s good for you. Then we’ll practice nding
reasons to be grateful every day; we’ll learn when and how to
express gratitude for both small gifts and those that have mattered
most.

GRATITUDE IS GOOD FOR YOU

It’s hard to believe that thankfulness could actually have
measurable bene ts, but the science is there. Gratitude has been
linked to better mental health, self-awareness, better relationships,
and a sense of ful llment.
One way scientists have measured the bene ts of gratitude was
to ask two groups of people to keep journals during the day. The
rst group was asked to record things for which they felt grateful,
and the second was asked to record times they’d felt hassled or
irritated. The gratitude group reported lower stress levels at the
end of the day. In another study, college students who complained
that their minds were lled with racing thoughts and worries were
told to spend fteen minutes before bed listing things for which
they were grateful. Gratitude journaling reduced intrusive
thoughts and helped participants sleep better.

TRY THIS: KEEP A GRATITUDE JOURNAL

Every night, spend five minutes writing down things you are grateful for.
If you want to conduct your own experiment, spend the week before
you start writing down how much sleep you get. The following week,
keep a gratitude journal and in the morning write down how much sleep
you got. Any improvement?

GRATITUDE AND THE MIND

When the monkey mind, which ampli es negativity, tries to
convince us that we’re useless and worthless, the more reasonable
monk mind counters by pointing out that others have given us
their time, energy, and love. They have made e orts on our behalf.
Gratitude for their kindness is entwined with self-esteem, because
if we are worthless, then that would make their generosity toward
us worthless too.
 Gratitude also helps us overcome the bitterness and pain that
we all carry with us. Try feeling jealous and grateful
simultaneously. Hard to imagine, right? When you’re present in
gratitude, you can’t be anywhere else. According to UCLA
neuroscientist Alex Korb, we truly can’t focus on positive and
negative feelings at the same time. When we feel grateful, our
brains release dopamine (the reward chemical), which makes us
want to feel that way again, and we begin to make gratitude a
habit. Says Korb, “Once you start seeing things to be grateful for,
your brain starts looking for more things to be grateful for.” It’s a
“virtuous cycle.”
For years, researchers have shown that gratitude plays a major
role in overcoming real trauma. A study published in 2006 found
that Vietnam War veterans with high levels of gratitude
experienced lower rates of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
If you’ve been through a breakup, if you’ve lost a loved one—if
anything has hit you hard emotionally—gratitude is the answer.
Gratitude has bene ts not just for the mind but for the physical
body. The toxic emotions that gratitude blocks contribute to
widespread in ammation, which is a precursor to loads of chronic
illnesses, including heart disease.
Studies show that grateful people not only feel healthier,
they’re also more likely to take part in healthy activities and seek
care when they’re ill.
The health bene ts of gratitude are so extensive that Dr. P.
Murali Doraiswamy, head of the Division of Biologic Psychology
at Duke University Medical Center, told ABC News, “If
[thankfulness] were a drug, it would be the world’s best-selling
product with a health maintenance indication for every major
organ system.”

EVERYDAY GRATITUDE
If gratitude is good for you, then more gratitude must be better for
you. So let’s talk about how to increase the gratitude in our daily
lives. Monks try to be grateful for everything, all the time. As the
Sutta Pitaka, part of the Buddhist canon, advises, “Monks. You
should train yourselves thus: ‘We will be grateful and thankful and
we will not overlook even the least favor done to us.’ ”
One of my most memorable lessons in gratitude came days
after I arrived at the ashram.
A senior monk asks us new arrivals to write about an experience
that we believe we didn’t deserve. There is silence as we scribble in our
notebooks. I pick an episode from my teenage years when one of my
best friends betrayed me.
After about fifteen minutes, we share what we’ve written. One
novice describes the painful premature death of his sister, others have
written about accidents or injuries, some discuss lost loves. When
we’re done, our teacher tells us that the experiences we have picked are
all valid, but he points out the fact that all of us have selected
negative scenarios. Not one of us has written about a wonderful
thing that came to us by good fortune or kindness rather than
through our own efforts. A wonderful thing that we didn’t deserve.
We’re in the habit of thinking that we don’t deserve misfortune,
but that we do deserve whatever blessings have come our way. Now
the class takes the time to consider our good fortune: the luck of being
born into a family with the resources to care for us; people who have
invested more in us than we have invested in ourselves; opportunities
that have made a difference in our lives. We so easily miss the chance
to recognize what has been given to us, to feel and express gratitude.
This exercise transported me to the rst time I felt grateful for
the life I had till then taken for granted.
I rst visited India with my parents when I was around nine
years old. In a taxi on our way back to the hotel, we stopped at a
red light. Out the window, I saw the legs of a girl, probably the
same age as me. The rest of her was bent over deep into a trash can.
It looked like she was trying to nd something, most likely food.
When she stood up, I realized with shock that she didn’t have
hands. I really wanted to help her somehow, but I looked on
helplessly as our car pulled away. She noticed my gaze and smiled,
so I smiled back—that was all I could do.
Back at the hotel I was feeling pretty low about the girl I’d seen.
I wished I’d taken action. I thought back to my community in
London. So many of us had Christmas lists and birthday parties
and hobbies, while there were kids out there just trying to survive.
It was an awakening of sorts.
My family went to the hotel restaurant for lunch, and I
overheard another child complaining that there was nothing he
liked on the menu. I was appalled. Here we were with our choice
of meals, and the girl I had seen had only a trash can for a menu.
I probably couldn’t have articulated it then, but that day I
gleaned how much had been given to me. The biggest di erence
between me and that girl was where and to whom we had been
born. My father, in fact, had worked his way out of the slums in
Pune, not far from Mumbai. I was the product of immense hard
work and sacri ce.
In the ashram, I began my gratitude practice by returning to
the awareness I’d started to feel at nine years old, and feeling
grateful for what was already mine: my life and health, my ease and
safety and the con dence that I would continue to be fed and
sheltered and loved. All of it was a gift.
In order to take that appreciation for the gifts of the universe
and turn it into a habit, monks begin every day by giving thanks.
Literally. When we wake up on our mats, we ip over to our fronts
and pay respect to the earth, taking a moment to give thanks for
what it gives us, for the light to see, the ground to walk on, the air
to breathe.

TRY THIS: EVERYDAY GRATITUDE PRACTICES

 Morning gratitude. Let me guess. The first thing you do when you wake
up in the morning is check your phone. Maybe it seems like an easy, low-
impact way to get your brain moving, but as we’ve discussed, it doesn’t
start the day on the right note. Try this—it will only take a minute. (If
you’re so tired that you’re in danger of falling back asleep, then make
sure you’ve set a snooze alarm.) Take a moment right there in bed, flip
over onto your belly, put your hands in prayer, and bow your head. Take
this moment to think of whatever is good in your life: the air and light
that uplift you, the people who love you, the coffee that awaits you.
Meal gratitude. One in every nine people on earth do not have enough
food to eat every day. That’s nearly 800 million people. Choose one meal
of the day and commit to taking a moment before you dig in to give
thanks for the food. Take inspiration from Native American prayers or
make up your own. If you have a family, take turns offering thanks.

Ancient, timeless gratitude practices have arisen all around the

world. Among Native Americans, traditions of thanksgiving
abound. In one ritual observance, described by Buddhist scholar
and environmental activist Joanna Macy, Onondaga children
gather for a daily morning assembly to start their school day with
an o ering of gratitude. A teacher begins, “Let us gather our
minds as one and give thanks to our eldest Brother, the Sun, who
rises each day to bring light so we can see each other’s faces and
warmth for the seeds to grow.” Similarly, the Mohawk people say a
prayer, which o ers gratitude for People, Earth Mother, the
Waters, the Fish, the Plants, the Food Plants, the Medicine Herbs,
the Animals, the Trees, the Birds, the Four Winds, Grandfather
Thunder, Eldest Brother the Sun, Grandmother Moon, the Stars,
the Enlightened Teachers, and the Creator. Imagine what the
world might be like if we all started our day giving thanks for the
most basic and essential gifts of life all around us.

THE PRACTICE OF GRATITUDE

Making gratitude part of your daily routine is the easy part, but
here’s my ask, and it’s not small: I want you to be grateful in all
times and circumstances. Even if your life isn’t perfect, build your
gratitude like a muscle. If you train it now, it will only strengthen
over time.
 TRY THIS: GRATITUDE MEDITATIONS
To access gratitude anytime, at will, I recommend the following
meditations.
OM NAMO BHAGAVATE VASUDEVAYA
In the ashram we chanted this mantra, discussed on page 273, before
reading spiritual texts as a reminder to feel grateful for those who helped
those scriptures exist. We can use this chant in a similar way to feel
grateful for the teachers and sages who have brought us insight and
guidance.
I AM GRATEFUL FOR…
After sitting, relaxing, and doing breathwork, repeat “I am grateful for… ,”
completing the phrase with as many things as you can. This exercise
immediately refocuses you. If possible, try to reframe negativities that
spring to mind by finding elements of them for which you are grateful.
You can also do this in a journal or as a voice note to keep as a reminder
if these negative thoughts return.
JOY VISUALIZATION
During meditation, take yourself to a time and place where you
experienced joy. Allow that feeling of joy to re-enter you. You will carry it
with you when you finish the meditation.

Gratitude is how we transform what Zen master Roshi Joan

Halifax calls “the mind of poverty.” She explains that this mindset
“has nothing to do with material poverty. When we are caught in
the mind of poverty, we focus on what we are lacking; we feel we
don’t deserve love; and we ignore all that we have been given. The
conscious practice of gratitude is the way out of the poverty
mentality that erodes our gratitude and with it, our integrity.”
Brian Acton exempli es this conscious practice of gratitude.
He had worked at Yahoo for eleven years when he applied for a job
at Twitter, but even though he was quite good at what he did, he
was rejected. When he received the news, he tweeted, “Got denied
by Twitter HQ. That’s ok. Would have been a long commute.” He
next applied for a job at Facebook. Soon after he tweeted,
“Facebook turned me down. It was a great opportunity to connect
with some fantastic people. Looking forward to life’s next
adventure.” He didn’t hesitate to post his failures on social media,
and never expressed anything but gratitude for the opportunities.
After these setbacks, he ended up working on an app in his
personal time. Five years later Facebook bought WhatsApp, the
app Brian Acton cofounded, for $19 billion.
The jobs at the companies that rejected Acton would have paid
far less than he made o WhatsApp. Instead of xating on the
rejections and adopting a poverty mentality, he just waited
gratefully to see what might be in store for him.
Don’t judge the moment. As soon as you label something as
bad, your mind starts to believe it. Instead, be grateful for setbacks.
Allow the journey of life to progress at its own pace and in its own
roundabout way. The universe may have other plans in store for
you.
There’s a story about a monk who carried water from a well in
two buckets, one of which had holes in it. He did this every day,
without repairing the bucket. One day, a passer-by asked him why
he continued to carry the leaky bucket. The monk pointed out
that the side of the path where he carried the full bucket was
barren, but on the other side of the path, where the bucket had
leaked, beautiful wild owers had ourished. “My imperfection has
brought beauty to those around me,” he said.
Helen Keller, who became deaf and blind as a toddler after an
unidenti ed illness, wrote, “When one door of happiness closes,
another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that
we do not see the one which has been opened for us.”
When something doesn’t go your way, say to yourself, “There’s
more for me out there.” That’s all. You don’t have to think, I’m so
grateful I lost my job! When you say, “This is what I wanted. This
was the only answer,” all the energy goes to “this.” When you say,
“This didn’t work out, but there’s more out there,” the energy
shifts to a future full of possibility.
The more open you are to possible outcomes, the more you can
make gratitude a go-to response. Brother David Steindl-Rast says,
“People usually think that gratitude is saying thank you, as if this
were the most important aspect of it. The most important aspect
of the practice of grateful living is trust in life.… To live that way is
what I call ‘grateful living’ because then you receive every moment
as a gift.… This is when you stop long enough to ask yourself,
‘What’s the opportunity in this moment?’ You look for it and then
take advantage of that opportunity. It’s as simple as that.”

TRY THIS: GRATITUDE IN HINDSIGHT

Think of one thing that you weren’t grateful for when it first happened.
Your education? Someone who taught you? A friendship? Is there a
project that stressed you out? A responsibility for a family member that
you resented? Or choose a negative outcome that is no longer painful: a
breakup, a layoff, unwanted news.
Now take a moment to consider in what way this experience is worthy
of your gratitude. Did it benefit you in an unexpected way? Did the project
help you develop new skills or earn a colleague’s respect? Was your
relationship with the family member forever improved by your
generosity?
Think of something unpleasant that is going on right now, or that you
anticipate. Experiment with anticipating gratitude for an unlikely
recipient.

If your boss gives you feedback that you don’t agree with, pause
before reacting. Take a moment to think, What can I learn from
this moment? Then look for gratitude: Maybe you can be grateful
that your boss is trying to help you improve—or grateful that your
boss has given you another reason to leave this job. If you run to
catch a bus and you succeed, you would ordinarily feel momentary
relief, then go back to your day. Instead, stop. Take a moment to
remember what it felt like when you thought you were going to
miss it. Use this memory to appreciate your good fortune. And if
you miss the bus, you will have a moment to re ect, so use it to
put the situation in perspective. Another bus is coming. You
weren’t hit by a car. It could have been a lot worse. After
celebrating the wins and mourning the losses, we deliberately look
at either situation with perspective, accept it gratefully and
humbly, and move forward.

EXPRESSING GRATITUDE
Now that we’ve broadened the gratitude we feel internally, let’s
turn that gratitude outward and express it to others.
A lot of the time, we feel deeply grateful, but we have no idea
how to pass it on. There are many ways and depths of giving
thanks and giving back.
The most basic way to show gratitude is to say thank you. But
who wants to be basic? Make your thanks as speci c as possible.
Think about the thank-you notes you might receive after hosting a
gathering. At least one will likely say, “Thanks for last night. It was
awesome!” Another might say, “Thanks for last night—the food
was wonderful, and I loved the funny, sweet toast you made to
your friend.” It’s far better to express your gratitude in speci c
terms. The minute we are given even incrementally more detailed
gratitude, the better we feel.
This is the key: Your friend felt joy at being part of the
gathering that you put together, and the e ort they took to
compose that thank-you note brought joy back to you. For each of
you, gratitude comes from realizing that someone else is invested
in you. It’s a feedback loop of love.

KINDNESS AND GRATITUDE ARE SYMBIOTIC

The feedback loop of love jibes with the Buddha teaching that
kindness and gratitude must be developed together, working in
harmony.
Kindness is as easy—and as hard—as this: genuinely wanting
something good for someone else, thinking about what would
bene t them, and putting e ort into giving them that bene t.
If you have ever made a sacri ce for someone else’s bene t, you
can easily recognize the e ort and energy someone else gives to
you. That is to say, your own acts of kindness teach you what it
takes to be kind, so your own kindness enables you to feel truly
grateful. Kindness teaches gratitude. This is what is happening in
the microcosm of the thoughtful thank-you note: The kindness of
your dinner party inspired your friend’s gratitude. That gratitude
inspired her kindness to you.
Kindness—and the gratitude that follows—has a ripple e ect.
Pema Chödrön advises, “Be kinder to yourself. And then let your
kindness ood the world.” In our daily encounters, we want other
people to be kind, compassionate, and giving toward us—who
wouldn’t?—but the best way to attract these qualities into our
lives is to develop them ourselves. Studies have long shown that
attitudes, behavior, and even health are contagious within our
social networks, but what hadn’t been clear was whether this is
true simply because we tend to be friends with people who are like
us. So two researchers from Harvard and the University of
California, San Diego, set out to nd out whether kindness is
contagious among people who don’t know each other. They set
up a game where they arranged strangers into groups of four and
gave each person twenty credits. Each player was instructed to
decide, in private, how many credits to keep for themselves and
how many to contribute to a common pot that at the end of the
round would be divided evenly among the players. At the end of
each round, the players were shu ed, so they never knew from
game to game who was generous, but they knew how generous
others had been to the group. As the game went on, players who
had been the recipients of generosity from teammates tended to
give more of their own credits in future rounds. Kindness begets
kindness.
When you are part of a kindness-gratitude exchange, you will
inevitably nd yourself on the receiving end of gratitude. When
we receive thanks, we must be mindful of our egos. It’s easy to get
lost in the fantasy of our own greatness. When monks are praised,
we detach, remembering that whatever we were able to give was
never ours to begin with. To receive gratitude with humility, start
by thanking the person for noticing. Appreciate their attention
and their intention. Look for a good quality in the other person
and return the compliment.
 Then take the gratitude you are given as an opportunity to be
grateful to your teachers.

THE KINDNESS OF STRANGERS

Monks put our gratitude practice into action through all the small
interactions of the day. I hopped into an Uber once, in a hurry and
distracted. The car idled for an unusually long time, and when I
nally noticed and asked the driver if everything was okay, he said,
“Yes, I’m just waiting for you to say hi back to me.” It was a wake-
up call, and you can bet I’m more careful about acknowledging
people now.
Being short and direct may be more e cient and professional,
but spending our days on autopilot blocks us from sharing the
emotions that bind us together and sustain us. A study
encouraging some people on the Chicago commuter trains to start
conversations with strangers on any subject, for any amount of
time, found that those who got up the courage to chat reported a
more positive commuting experience. Most of these commuters
had anticipated the opposite outcome, and on further
investigation, researchers found it wasn’t that people thought
strangers would be unpleasant, but they feared the awkwardness of
starting a conversation and worried they might be rebu ed. That
wasn’t the case, and most of the strangers were happy to engage.
When we make the e ort to connect with those around us, we
create opportunities for gratitude instead of languishing in
anonymity.
Think about all the daily activities that involve other people:
commuting, a project at work, grocery shopping, dropping kids
o at school, small talk with our partner. These are the little events
that ll our lives, and how much pleasure they give us is largely up
to us. Speci cally, it depends on how much kindness we bring to
these interactions and how much gratitude we take from them.

TRY THIS: A GRATITUDE VISUALIZATION

 Take a moment right now to think of three things others have given you:

1. A small kindness someone did you

2. A gift that mattered to you
3. Something that makes every day a little bit better

Close your eyes. Take yourself back to the place in time of one of
these acts, and relive how it felt—the sights, scents, and sounds. Re-
experience it with awe, and experience those feelings in a deeper way.
After this visualization, recognize that small things are happening for
you. Don’t overlook them or take them for granted. Next, take a moment
to feel a sense of being cared for, thought of, loved. This should boost
your self-esteem and self-confidence. Last, know that just feeling great
is not the end goal. Let this reflection lead to you feeling like you want to
reciprocate with love by giving back to those who have given to you, or
by passing on the love and care to those who don’t have it.

GRATITUDE THROUGH SERVICE

If we want to go beyond the incidental kindnesses of the day, we
can actively inspire and increase our gratitude even more. We think
of volunteering and serving others as ways of giving to those less
fortunate, but they arguably do as much for the donor as they do
for the recipient. Service helps us transform negative emotions like
anger, stress, envy, and disappointment into gratitude. It does this
by giving us perspective.
“What brings you to me?” asked an old, wise woman of the
young man who stood before her.
“I see joy and beauty around me, but from a distance,” the
young man said. “My own life is full of pain.”
The wise woman was silent. She slowly poured a cup of water
for the sad young man and handed it to him. Then she held out a
bowl of salt.
“Put some in the water,” she said.
The young man hesitated, then took a small pinch of salt.
“More. A handful,” the old woman said.
 Looking skeptical, the young man put a scoop of salt in his
cup. The old woman gestured with her head, instructing the
young man to drink. He took a sip of water, made a face, and spat
it onto the dirt oor.
“How was it?” the old woman asked.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” said the young man rather glumly.
The old woman smiled knowingly, then handed the young man
the bowl of salt and led him to a nearby lake. The water was clear
and cold. “Now put a handful of salt in the lake,” she said.
The young man did as he was instructed, and the salt dissolved
into the water. “Have a drink,” the old woman said.
The young man knelt at the water’s edge and slurped from his
hands.
When he looked up, the old woman again asked, “How was it?”
“Refreshing,” said the young man.
“Could you taste the salt?” asked the wise woman.
The young man smiled sheepishly. “Not at all,” he said.
The old woman knelt next to the man, helped herself to some
water, and said, “The salt is the pain of life. It is constant, but if
you put it in a small glass, it tastes bitter. If you put it in a lake, you
can’t taste it. Expand your senses, expand your world, and the pain
will diminish. Don’t be the glass. Become the lake.”
Taking a broader view helps us minimize our pain and
appreciate what we have, and we directly access this broader view
by giving. Research published in BMC Public Health points out
that volunteering can result in lower feelings of depression and
increased feelings of overall well-being. When I lived in New York
a charity called Capes for Kids went into a school in Queens and
helped the students make superhero capes for kids from tough
backgrounds. The children who made the capes got to see the
impact of their work and gifts, and it helped them realize how
much they truly had. When we see the struggles of others in the
clear light of day, when we use our talents to improve their world
even a little bit, we immediately feel a surge of gratitude.

TRY THIS: EXPERIENCE GRATITUDE THROUGH

VOLUNTEER WORK
Service broadens your perspective and alleviates negative emotions. Try
volunteering—it can be once a month or once a week—but nothing will
better help you develop gratitude more immediately and inspire you to
show it.

PROFOUND GRATITUDE
Sometimes it’s hardest to express gratitude to the people who
mean the most to us—the family, friends, teachers, and mentors
who made or still make a real di erence in our lives.

TRY THIS: WRITE A GRATITUDE LETTER

Select one person to whom you feel deeply grateful—someone who
makes it easy to feel grateful.
Write out a list of the broader qualities and values you appreciate in
this person. Were they supportive? Were they loving? Did they have
integrity? Then think of specific words and moments that you shared.
Look ahead and write what you’re going to do and say when you see
them again. (If they have passed, you can lead with: “If I were to see you
again, this is what I would say.”)
Now write them a gratitude letter, pulling from the notes you’ve made.

Try to show love and appreciation in person if possible.

Otherwise, giving a note, text, or phone call to speci cally express
what you appreciate about a person boosts that person’s happiness
and your own.
Sometimes, those you love will resist intimacy and brush you
o . In this case, hold your ground. Receiving gratitude requires
vulnerability and openness. We block these feelings because we’re
afraid of being hurt. If you encounter resistance, you might try
shifting your approach. Take a moment to consider what form of
gratitude the recipient would most appreciate. In some cases,
expressing your gratitude in writing is the easiest way for both of
you to have time and space to process these feelings.
When you write a gratitude letter to someone who means a lot
to you, try to make them feel as cared for and loved as you felt
when they helped you. A letter gives recognition to the value of
their generosity with more permanence than a verbal thank-you. It
deepens your bond. That recognition inspires both of you to be
thoughtful and giving with each other, and this, as we have
learned, ripples through your community.

GRATITUDE AFTER FORGIVENESS

Perhaps you’re thinking, My parents did a number on me. Why
should I be grateful to them? There are imperfect people in our lives
—ones toward whom we feel unresolved or mixed emotions and
therefore have trouble summoning gratitude. And yet, gratitude is
not black-and-white. We can be grateful for some, but not all, of a
person’s behavior toward us. If your relationships are complicated,
accept their complexity. Try to nd forgiveness for their failures
and gratitude for their e orts.
However, I’m absolutely not suggesting that you should feel
grateful if someone has done you wrong. You don’t have to be
grateful for everyone in your life. Monks don’t have an o cial
stance on trauma, but the focus is always on healing the internal
before dealing with the external. In your own pace, at your own
time.

We tend to think of gratitude as appreciation for what we have

been given. Monks feel the same way. And if you ask a monk what
he has been given, the answer is everything. The rich complexity of
life is full of gifts and lessons that we can’t always see clearly for
what they are, so why not choose to be grateful for what is, and
what is possible? Embrace gratitude through daily practice, both
internally—in how you look at your life and the world around you
—and through action. Gratitude generates kindness, and this
spirit will reverberate through our communities, bringing our
highest intentions to those around us.

Gratitude is the mother of all qualities. As a mother gives birth,

gratitude brings forth all other qualities—compassion, resilience,
con dence, passion—positive traits that help us nd meaning and
connect with others. It naturally follows that in the next chapter
we will talk about relationships—who we try to be with others,
who we want to welcome into our lives, and how we can sustain
meaningful relationships.
 TEN

RELATIONSHIPS
People Watching

Every person is a world to explore.

—Thich Nhat Hanh

Monks are often imagined to be hermits, living in isolation, detached from

humanity, and yet my experience as a monk has forever changed how I deal with
other people. When I returned to London after deciding to leave the ashram, I
found that I was much better at all kinds of relationships than I’d been before I
took my vows. This improvement was even true for romance, which was a bit
surprising given that monks are celibate and I’d had no romantic connections
with women during my time in the ashram.

SETTING EXPECTATIONS
The village of the ashram fosters camaraderie, being there for each other, serving
each other. Dan Buettner, the cofounder of Blue Zones—an organization that
studies regions of the world where people live the longest and healthiest lives—
saw the worldwide need for this kind of community. In addition to diet and
lifestyle practices, Buettner found that longevity was tied to several aspects of
community: close relationships with family (they’ll take care of you when you
need help), and a tribe with shared beliefs and healthy social behaviors.
Essentially, it takes a village.
Like these blue zones, the ashram is an interdependent community, one that
fosters a mood of collaboration and service to one another. Everyone is
encouraged to look out not just for their own needs, but for those of other
people. Remember the trees in Biosphere 2 that lacked roots deep enough to
withstand wind? Redwood trees are another story. Famously tall, you’d think that
they need deep roots to survive, but in fact their roots are shallow. What gives the
trees resilience is that these roots spread widely. Redwoods best thrive in groves,
interweaving their roots so the strong and weak together withstand the forces of
nature.
 THE CIRCLE OF LOVE
In a community where everyone looked out for each other, I initially expected my
care and support for other monks to be returned directly by them, but the reality
turned out to be more complex.
During my first year at the ashram, I become upset, and I approach one of my
teachers for advice. “I’m upset,” I say. “I feel like I’m giving out a lot of love, but I
don’t feel like it’s being returned in kind. I’m loving, caring, and looking out for
others, but they don’t do the same for me. I don’t get it.”
The monk asks, “Why are you giving out love?”
I say, “Because it’s who I am.”
The monk says, “So then why expect it back? But also, listen carefully. Whenever
you give out any energy—love, hate, anger, kindness—you will always get it back.
One way or another. Love is like a circle. Whatever love you give out, it always comes
back to you. The problem lies with your expectations. You assume the love you receive
will come from the person you gave it to. But it doesn’t always come from that
person. Similarly, there are people who love you who you don’t give the same love in
return.”

He was right. Too often we love people who don’t love us, but we fail to
return the love of others who do.
I thought of my mother, who would always drop whatever she was doing to
take my call. If she were to pick up the phone, the rst person she’d reach out to
would be me or my sister. In her heart she wanted to talk to me pretty much all
the time. At the same time as I might be frustrated because someone wasn’t
responding to my texts, my mother was sitting there thinking, I wish my son
would call me!
My teacher’s description of the circle of love changed my life. Our lack of
gratitude is what makes us feel unloved. When we think nobody cares, we need to
check ourselves and realize that the love we give out comes back to us from a
variety of sources, and, in a more general sense, whatever we put out will come
back to us. This is an example of karma, the idea that your actions, good or bad,
bring the same back to you. When we feel unloved, we need to ask ourselves: Am I
offering help as often as I ask for help? Who is giving to me without receiving
anything in return?

A NETWORK OF COMPASSION
It makes sense that monks look at the distribution of love and care as a network of
compassion rather than a one-to-one exchange. Monks believe di erent people
serve di erent purposes, with each role contributing to our growth in its own
way. We have peers for friendship, students to teach, and mentors to learn from
and serve. These roles are not wholly tied to age and experience. Every monk is
always in every phase of that cycle. Monks believe that these roles aren’t xed. The
person who is your teacher one day might be your student the next. Sometimes
the senior monks would come to classes with young monks like us, sitting on the
oor and listening to a new monk speak. They weren’t there to check on us—
they were there to learn for themselves.

TRY THIS: LEAD AND FOLLOW

Make a list of your students and teachers. Now write down what the students could teach
you and what the teachers might learn from you.

THE FOUR TYPES OF TRUST

In the ashram, I was upset because I felt my care wasn’t reciprocated. We often
expect too much of others when we don’t have a clear sense of their purpose in
our lives. Let’s consider four characteristics that we look for in the people we
allow into our lives. You’ll recognize these people—most of us know at least one
person who falls into each of these categories.
Competence. Someone has to be competent if we are to trust their opinions
and recommendations. This person has the right skills to solve your issue. They
are an expert or authority in their area. They have experience, references, and/or a
high Yelp rating.
 Care. We need to know a person cares if we are putting our emotions in their
hands. Real care means they are thinking about what is best for you, not what is
best for them. They care about your well-being, not your success. They have your
best interests at heart. They believe in you. They would go beyond the call of duty
to support you: helping you move, accompanying you to an important doctor’s
appointment, or helping you plan a birthday party or wedding.
Character. Some people have a strong moral compass and uncompromising
values. We look to these people to help us see clearly when we aren’t sure what we
want or believe is right. Character is especially critical when we are in an
interdependent partnership (a relationship, a business partnership, a team). These
people practice what they preach. They have good reputations, strong opinions,
and down-to-earth advice. They are trustworthy.
Consistency. People who are consistent may not be the top experts, have the
highest character, or care most deeply for you, but they are reliable, present, and
available when you need them. They’ve been with you through highs and lows.

Nobody carries a sign announcing what they have to o er us. Observe people’s
intentions and actions. Are they in alignment? Are they demonstrating what they
say they value? Do their values correspond with yours? We learn more from
behaviors than promises. Use the four types of trust to understand why you are
attracted to a person and whether you are likely to connect as a friend, a
colleague, or a romantic partner. Ask yourself, What is my genuine intention for
getting involved in this relationship?
The four types of trust may seem like basic qualities that we instinctively look
for and require, but notice that it’s hard to think of someone who cares about
you, is competent in every area, has the highest character, and is never too busy
for you. Two of the most important people in my life are Swami (my monk
teacher) and my mother. Swami is my go-to spiritual person. I have the utmost
trust in his character. But when I told him I wanted to leave Accenture and go
into media, he said, “I have no idea what you should do.” He is one of my most
valued advisors, but it was silly to expect him to have an opinion about my career,
and he was wise enough not to pretend to have one. My mom would also not be
the best person to ask about career moves. Like many mothers, she is most
concerned with my well-being: how I’m feeling, whether I’m eating well, if I’m
getting enough sleep. She is there with care and consistency, but she’s not going to
counsel me on managing my company. I needn’t be angry at my mother for not
caring about every aspect of my life. Instead I should save myself the time, energy,
attention, and pain, and simply appreciate what she’s o ering.
 We tend to expect every person to be a complete package, giving us everything
we need. This is setting the bar impossibly high. It’s as hard to nd that person as
it is to be that person. The four types of trust will help us keep in mind what we
can and can’t expect from them. Even your partner can’t provide care, character,
competence, and consistency in all ways at all times. Care and character, yes, but
nobody is competent in all things, and though your partner should be reliable,
nobody is consistently available in the way you need them. We expect our life
partner to be our everything, to “complete us” (thanks, Jerry Maguire), but even
within that deep and lifelong union, only you can be your everything.
Being at the ashram with people who weren’t family or otherwise connected
to us gave us a realistic perspective. There, it was clear that nobody could or
should play every role. Interestingly, a Psychology Today article describes a eld
study of military leadership in Iraq done by Colonel J. Patrick Sweeney, a
psychologist. Sweeney similarly found “3 Cs” of trust: competence, caring, and
character. The di erence is that he observed that all three qualities were necessary
for soldiers to trust their leaders. Military and monk life both adhere to routine
and principles, but monks aren’t following their leaders and laying their lives on
the line. To think like a monk about relationships, instead of looking for all four
Cs, set realistic expectations based on what a person actually gives you, not what
you want them to give you. When they don’t have all four Cs, realize that you can
still bene t from having them in your life.
And you should be at least as attentive to what you can o er them. With
friends or colleagues, get into the habit of asking yourself, What can I offer first?
How can I serve? Am I a teacher, a peer, or a student? Which of the four Cs do I give
to this person? We form more meaningful relationships when we play to our
strengths and, like Swami, don’t o er expertise that we don’t have.
Exercises like the one above aren’t meant to attach labels to people; I’m against
labels, as I’ve explained, because they reduce the many nuanced hues of life to
black and white. The monk approach is to look for meaning and absorb what you
need to move forward instead of getting locked in judgment. However, when we
apply lters like the four Cs, we can see if our network of compassion is broad
enough to guide us through the complexity and chaos of life.

TRY THIS: REFLECT ON TRUST

Pick three diverse people in your life—perhaps a colleague, a family member, and a friend
—and decide which of the four Cs they bring to your life. Be grateful for that. Thank them
for it.

Even if we’ve got the four Cs covered, we bene t from multiple viewpoints
within each of these categories. A mother’s care isn’t the same as a mentor’s. One
person with character might give great romantic advice, while another might help
you through a family argument. And one consistent friend might be there for you
during a breakup, while another is always available for a spirited hike.

MAKE YOUR OWN FAMILY

In order to nd diversity, we have to be open to new connections. Part of growing
up—at any age—is accepting that our family of origin may never be able to give
us all that we need. It’s okay to accept what you do and don’t get from the people
who raised you. And it’s okay—necessary, in fact—to protect yourself from those
in your family who aren’t good for you. We should have the same standards for
our family as we do for everyone else, and if the relationship is fraught, we can
love them and respect them from a distance while gathering the family we need
from the wider world. This doesn’t mean we should neglect our families. But
forgiveness and gratitude come more easily when we accept that we have friends
and family, and we have friends that become family. Feeling connected at some
level to all of humanity can be positively therapeutic for those whose own families
have made their lives di cult.

THE HUMAN FAMILY

When you enter a new community—as I entered the ashram—you have a clean
slate. You have none of the expectations that have already built up among family
and friends. Most likely nobody shares your past. In situations like this, most of
us rush to nd “our people,” but the ashram showed me another way. I didn’t
need to replicate a family, creating a small circle of comfort and trust. Everyone in
the ashram was my family. And, as we traveled and connected with people across
India and Europe, I began to recognize that everyone in the world was my family.
As Gandhi said, “The golden way is to be friends with the world and to regard the
whole human family as one.”
The groups we establish for learning, growth, and shared experiences—like
families, schools, and churches—help us categorize people. These are the people I
live with. These are the people I learn with. These are the people I pray with. These
are the people I hope to help. But I didn’t want to discount someone’s opinions
or worth because they didn’t t neatly into one of these circles. Aside from the
limits of practicality, there weren’t certain people who deserved my attention or
care or help more than others.
It’s easier to look at everyone as a member of your family if you don’t imagine
that it’s every human at every moment. A well-known poem by Jean Dominique
Martin says, “People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.”
These three categories are based on how long that relationship should endure.
One person might enter your life as a welcome change. Like a new season, they
are an exciting and enthralling shift of energy. But the season ends at some point,
as all seasons do. Another person might come in with a reason. They help you
learn and grow, or they support you through a di cult time. It almost feels like
they’ve been deliberately sent to you to assist or guide you through a particular
experience, after which their central role in your life decreases. And then there are
lifetime people. They stand by your side through the best and worst of times,
loving you even when you are giving nothing to them. When you consider these
categories, keep in mind the circle of love. Love is a gift without any strings
attached. This means that with it comes the knowledge that not all relationships
are meant to endure with equal strength inde nitely. Remember that you are also
a season, a reason, and a lifetime friend to di erent people at di erent times, and
the role you play in someone else’s life won’t always match the role they play in
yours.
These days, there is a small, consistent group of people with whom I am
closest, but that doesn’t change the connection I feel to all humanity. And so I ask
you to look beyond the people you recognize, beyond your comfort zone, to
strangers and people you don’t understand. You don’t have to befriend them all,
but see them all as equal, with equality of soul and the potential to add variety to
your knowledge and experience. They are all in your circle of care.

TRY THIS: BE REALISTIC ABOUT YOUR FRIENDSHIPS

Make a list of the people you have seen socially over the past week or two. In a second
column, identify whether the person is a Season, a Reason, or a Lifetime friend. This, of
course, is labeling, which I have urged you not to do. We have to allow for fluidity in the
roles people play. But roughly sketching the landscape of your current social life can give
you an idea as to whether you are surrounded by a balanced group of people—one that
provides excitement, support, and long-term love. Now, in a third column, consider what
role you play for each of these people. Are you offering what you receive? Where and how
could you give more?

TRUST IS EARNED
Once you have established reasonable expectations from a relationship, then it is
easier to build and maintain trust. Trust is central to every relationship. Trust
means we believe that the person is being honest with us, that they have our
interests at heart, that they will uphold their promises and con dences, and that
they will stay true to these intentions in the future. Notice that I didn’t say they
are right all the time or handle every challenge perfectly. Trust is about intentions,
not abilities.
When an important person lets us down, the blow to our trust reverberates
across all of our relationships. Even people with the best intentions change or
don’t follow the same path that we do. Other people give us plenty of signs that
their intentions don’t mesh with ours, but we ignore them. And sometimes, if we
were more aware, there are people we would know not to trust in the rst place.
Other people’s behavior is always out of our control—so how can we trust
anyone?

STAGES OF TRUST
Trust can be extended to anyone from a taxi driver to a business partner to a lover,
but obviously we don’t have the same level of trust for everyone. It’s important to
be attentive to how deeply we trust someone and whether they’ve actually earned
that level of trust.
Dr. John Gottman, one of the nation’s top marriage experts, wanted to nd
out what makes couples get stuck in ongoing con ict instead of resolving it and
moving on. He examined couples from all over the country, from varied
socioeconomic and ethnic backgrounds, and in a variety of life situations, from
newlyweds, to expecting parents, to families where one spouse was deployed in
military service. Across the board, the most important issue to all of these couples
was trust and betrayal. The language they used to describe their issues varied a bit,
but the central question was always the same: Can I trust you to be faithful? Can
I trust you to help with housework? Can I trust you to listen, to be there for me?
The couples had good reason to make trust a priority. According to studies by
Dr. Bella DePaulo, people are dishonest in one- fth of their interactions. Seventy-
seven college students and seventy people from the community at large were
asked to keep track of their social interactions for seven days. They were told to
record all of their exchanges and to note how many lies they told. I know what
you’re thinking—what if they lied about lying? To encourage honesty, the
researchers told the participants that there was no judgment involved, and that
their responses would help to answer fundamental questions about lying
behavior. They also sold the experiment as a chance to get to know themselves
better. In the end, the students reported some level of lying in one-third of their
interactions and the community members in one out of every ve interactions.
No wonder so many of us have trust issues.
 We know from our discussion of ego that we lie to impress, to present
ourselves as “better” than we really are, but when these lies are discovered, the
betrayal does far more damage to both people than honesty would have. If the
seed of trust is not planted e ectively in the beginning, we grow a weed of
mistrust and betrayal.
We aren’t careful with when and how we give our trust. We either trust other
people too easily, or we withhold our trust from everyone. Neither of these
extremes serve us well. Trusting everyone makes you vulnerable to deception and
disappointment. Trusting no one leaves you suspicious and alone. Our level of
trust should directly correspond to our experience with a person, growing
through four stages of trust.
Neutral Trust. When you meet someone, it is normal not to trust them. You
may nd them funny, charming, a joy to be around. These positive qualities do
not merit trust. They mean you think your new acquaintance is cool. We tend to
con ate trustworthiness with likability. In studies examining jurors’ perceptions
of expert witnesses, those the jurors found to be likeable they also rated as more
trustworthy. We also tend to trust people we nd attractive. Rick Wilson,
coauthor of Judging a Book by Its Cover: Beauty and Expectations in the Trust
Game, says, “We found that attractive subjects gain a ‘beauty premium’ in that
they are trusted at higher rates, but we also found a ‘beauty penalty’ when
attractive people do not live up to expectations.” When we equate likability or
appeal with trust, we set ourselves up for huge disappointment. It is better to have
neutral trust than to trust someone for the wrong reasons or to trust them
blindly.
Contractual Trust. I derived this level of trust from rajas, the impulsive mode
of life, where you are focused on getting the result that you want in the short-
term. Contractual trust is the quid pro quo of relationships. It simply says: If I
pay for dinner and you promise to pay me back, I have faith that you’ll do it. If
you make a plan, you can count on the person to show up—and there’s no
further expectation. Contractual trust is useful. Most of us share contractual
trust with the majority of people who cross our paths, yet we expect them to trust
us implicitly. The heart may want a deeper connection, but we have to be
discerning. Expecting more from someone who is only showing you contractual
trust is premature at best and dangerous at worst.
Mutual Trust. Contractual trust reaches a higher level when you help
someone, expecting they would most likely do the same for you, in some way, at
some unknown time in the future. Where contractual trust relies on a speci c
exchange both parties have agreed to in advance, mutual trust is far looser. This
stage of trust is derived from sattva, the mode of goodness, where we act from a
place of goodness, positivity, and peace. We all want to get to this level, and good
friendships usually do.
Pure trust. The highest level of trust is pure goodness, when you know, no
matter what happens, that another person has your back, and vice versa. College
basketball coach Don Meyer used to give each of his teammates a blank piece of
paper on which he’d ask them to draw a circle to represent their “foxhole.” They
wrote their names at the top of the circle, then drew lines at their left, right, and
rear, and on each line they had to list the name of a teammate who they’d want in
their foxhole with them. Those chosen most often by their teammates were the
team’s natural leaders. Choose your foxhole gang wisely.

If you were to graph the number of people you trust at each level, the result
would probably look like a pyramid: a lot of people at neutral trust; fewer people
at contractual trust; your close circle at mutual trust; and only a handful at the
top level, pure trust.
No matter how dissatis ed you are with your pyramid, don’t promote people
without reason. They will only let you down. The biggest mistake we make is to
assume that everyone else operates just like us. We believe that others value what
we value. We believe that what we want in a relationship is what others want in a
relationship. When someone says, “I love you,” we think they mean exactly what
we mean when we say “I love you.” But if we think everyone is a re ection of
ourselves, we fail to see things as they are. We see things as we are.
Mutual trust requires patience and commitment. It is built on a true
understanding of the other person in spite of and because they are separate from
us and view the world di erently. The way to step back from making
presumptions is to closely observe their words and behaviors. When people show
you their level of trust, believe them.
I want you to feel grateful for the people you can trust and to feel honored by
those who trust you. If you have neutral trust for someone, that’s cool too.
Accept people as they are, and you give them the chance to grow and prove to be
more. We set ourselves up for long-term trust when we let it evolve naturally.

TRUST IS A DAILY PRACTICE

Relationships rarely get to a point where both participants can say, “I absolutely
know this person and they absolutely know me.” Like a curve that continually
approaches but never reaches a line, you never get to the point of saying, “I trust
them fully, and they trust me fully, forever and ever.” Trust can be threatened in
small and large ways and needs to be reinforced and rebuilt on a daily basis.
Build and reinforce trust every day by:

Making and ful lling promises (contractual trust)

Giving those you care about sincere compliments and constructive
criticism; going out of your way to o er support (mutual trust)
Standing by someone even when they are in a bad place, have made a
mistake, or need help that requires signi cant time (pure trust)

AN INTENTIONAL LOVE LIFE

Now that we have some tools to assess the roles people play in our lives, let’s look
at how we can deepen existing relationships and build strong new ones. Letting
go of traditional family roles allowed us monks to broaden our connections with
humanity. In the same way, celibacy freed the energy and attention that romantic
love had consumed. Before you hurl this book across the room, I’m not
recommending celibacy for non-monks. Celibacy is an extreme commitment and
hardly an essential one for everyone, but it did lead me to revelations that I’d like
to share. Let’s say I did it so you don’t have to.
To stop drinking? That was easy for me. To stop gambling? I’d never done
much of that in the rst place. And I’d stopped eating meat at sixteen. For me,
giving up romantic relationships was the hardest sacri ce. It sounded ridiculous,
even impossible. But I knew the purpose behind it: to save the e ort and energy
that went into being validated in a romantic relationship and to use it to build a
relationship with myself. Think of it the same way giving up sugar sounds like a
drag—what sane person would want to forgo ice cream?—but we all know
there’s a good reason: to be healthy and live longer. When I looked at the monks,
I could see that they were doing something right. Remember Matthieu Ricard,
“the World’s Happiest Man”? All the monks I met looked so young and seemed
so happy. My romantic entanglements hadn’t brought me ful llment, so I was
willing to try the experiment of self-control and discipline.
When I became a monk, one of my college friends asked, “What are we going
to talk about? All we used to do was talk about girls.” He was right. So much of
my life had been absorbed in navigating romantic connections. There’s a reason
we watch countless sitcoms and movies about romance—it’s endlessly
entertaining—but as with any entertainment, it takes time away from serious
matters. If I’d been dating or in a committed relationship for those three years
instead of being at the ashram, I wouldn’t be where I am today, with
understanding of my strengths and who I am.
 The Sanskrit for monk is brahmacharya, which can be translated to “the right
use of energy.” In the dating world, when you walk into a bar, you look around to
see who is attractive. Or you swipe through potential mates online without giving
a second thought to how much time you spend in the e ort to hook up. But
imagine if you could buy that time back for yourself, if you could recoup
everything you’ve ever invested in relationships that didn’t pan out. That
attention and focus could be used for creativity, friendship, introspection,
industry. Now, this doesn’t mean every failed relationship is a waste of time. On
the contrary, we learn from each mistake. But think of the time around the
relationship, waiting for texts, wondering if they like you, trying to make
someone change into the person you want them to be. If we are thoughtful about
our needs and expectations, our time and energy go to far better use.
Sexual energy is not just about pleasure. It is sacred—it has the power to create
a child. Imagine what it can create within us when it’s harnessed. Certi ed sex
educator Mala Madrone says, “Celibacy by conscious choice is a powerful way to
work with your own energy and harness the potency of life energy. It can also
help you strengthen your intuition, your boundaries, and your understanding of
what consent truly means, including how to di erentiate what kind of contact
and interaction is truly welcome in your life and by your body.” But your energy
is squandered when it is spent tailoring yourself to someone else’s ideal or shaping
yourself into the person you think he wants or suspecting her of cheating on you.
There is so much anxiety and negativity around dating and so much pressure to
nd “the one”—never mind whether we’re ready or able to settle down with
anyone.
Once the element of romantic pursuit was removed, I wasn’t trying to
promote myself as a boyfriend, to look good, to make women think anything of
me, to indulge lust. I found my connections with female friends—with all my
friends—growing deeper. I had more physical and mental space and energy for
their souls. My time and attention were better spent.
Again, I’m not suggesting you give up sex (though you certainly could), but
what if you give yourself permission to be single, by yourself, able to focus on
your career, your friends, and your peace of mind? Minister and philosopher Paul
Tillich said, “Our language has wisely sensed these two sides of man’s being alone.
It has created the word ‘loneliness’ to express the pain of being alone. And it has
created the word ‘solitude’ to express the glory of being alone.”
I spent three years as a monk, three years developing my self-awareness, at the
end of which I was able to ask myself the right questions about a relationship. I
may not have spent all of my waking hours in sattva—the mode of goodness—
but I knew where I wanted to be and how it felt. I had the opportunity to become
the person I would want to date. Instead of looking for others to make me happy,
I was able to be that person for myself.
 ATTRACTION VERSUS CONNECTION
Our increased intentionality gives us a clearer perspective with which to evaluate
why we are initially attracted to people and whether those reasons support our
values. There are ve primary motivations for connection—and note that these
don’t exclusively apply to romantic prospects:

1. Physical attraction. You like what they look like—you are drawn to their
appearance, style, or presence, or you like the idea of being seen with them.
2. Material. You like their accomplishments and the power and/or the
possessions this a ords them.
3. Intellectual. You like how they think—you’re stimulated by their
conversation and ideas.
4. Emotional. You connect well. They understand your feelings and increase
your sense of well-being.
5. Spiritual. They share your deepest goals and values.

When you identify what’s attracting you, it’s clear if you’re attracted to the
whole person or just a part. In my experience, ask most people what attracts them
to another person and they’ll mention some combination of the top three
qualities: looks, success, and intellect, but those qualities alone don’t correlate
with long-term, fortifying relationships.
Monks believe that someone’s looks aren’t who they are—the body is only a
vessel for the soul. Similarly, someone’s possessions aren’t theirs—they certainly
don’t tell you about the person’s character! And even if you’re attracted to
someone’s intellect, there’s no guarantee it will lead to a meaningful bond. These
three qualities don’t correlate with long-term, fortifying relationships, but they
do show your chemistry with another person. The last two—emotional and
spiritual—point to a more profound, lasting connection—they show your
compatibility.

QUALITY, NOT QUANTITY

When it comes to the energy we expend and receive in relationships, the focus is
quality, not quantity. I often hear from guilty parents (usually moms) that they
feel bad having to work long hours and lose out on time with their kids.
According to the rst-ever large-scale study of the impact of mothers’ time, it’s
the quality of time spent with kids, not the quantity, that counts. (That means
put away your phone during family time.) I’m not a parent, but I know that as a
child, I always felt my mom’s energy. I never measured how much time she spent
with me. My mother worked, and as a young child I went to daycare. I don’t have
a single memory from daycare—no painful memories of her absence—but I do
remember her coming to pick me up. She’d always smile and ask about my day.
 This is true in all relationships. Nobody wants to sit with you at dinner while
you’re on the phone. This is where we confuse time and energy. You can spend a
whole hour with someone, but only give them ten minutes of energy. I’m not able
to spend much time with my family, but when I’m with them I’m 100 percent
there. I’d rather spend two hours with them, focused and engaged, than give them
partial, distracted energy for a whole weekend.
A monk shows love through presence and attention. In the ashram, time
invested was never seen as a reliable measure of care or engagement. As I’ve
mentioned, after a meditation, nobody asked how long you’d meditated, they
asked how deep you’d gone. If you have dinner together every night, great, but
what is the quality of the conversation? Think like monks do, in terms of energy
management not time management. Are you bringing your full presence and
attention to someone?

TRY THIS: HANDCUFF ATTENTION THIEVES

These days, most of us are losing a battle for our attention. The victors are our screens.
The only way to give another person your complete attention for a period of time is to turn
off your screens. To give someone in your life the focus they deserve, sit down with them
to agree on rules surrounding the phone, the laptop, and the TV. Choose specific activities
that will be your quality time, without distraction. Agree to turn off your phones, put them
in another room, or leave them at home. This may be a challenge at first. Perhaps
conversation will lag, or friends and colleagues will be frustrated because they can’t reach
you. Setting these boundaries will establish new expectations on both fronts: Lapses in
conversation will lose their awkwardness; friends and colleagues will accept that you are
not available 24/7.

SIX LOVING EXCHANGES

Most couples don’t sit down together, draw up a list of values, and see whether
they share them. But once we have clarity about ourselves, we can connect with
others in a more intentional way. The Upadesamrta talks about six loving
exchanges to encourage bonding and growing together. (There are three types of
exchanges; each involves giving and receiving, thus adding up to six.) They help
us build a relationship based on generosity, gratitude, and service.
Gifts. Giving charity and receiving whatever is o ered in return. This seems
obvious, or maybe even materialistic—we don’t want to buy each other’s
a ection. But think about what it means to give to another person with
intention. Do you get owers for your partner on Valentine’s Day? This is a very
conventional gesture, so consider whether it is the one that brings your partner
the most joy. If owers it is, did you walk them past a ower shop six months ago
to suss out their preferences in preparation for this day, or did you text a secret
query to their closest friend? (Both actions entail a lot more intention than just
ordering some roses online, though, of course, that’s better than completely
forgetting the day!) Is Valentine’s Day the best moment to express your love, or
would an unexpected gesture be even more meaningful? Have you taken the time
to contemplate what an ill friend would really like? Maybe it isn’t an object but
an action, a service, our time. Cleaning their car, organizing activities, helping
them with obligations, or bringing them someplace beautiful.
You can bring the same thoughtfulness to receiving a gift. Are you grateful for
the e ort that went into the gift? Do you understand why and what it means for
the giver?
Conversation. Listening is one of the most thoughtful gifts we can give. There
is no better way to show that we care about another person’s experience.
Listening intentionally means looking for the emotions behind the words, asking
questions to further understand, incorporating what you’ve learned into your
knowledge of the other person, doing your best to remember what they said, and
following up where relevant. Listening also involves creating an atmosphere of
trust, where the person feels welcome and safe.
 TRY THIS: MAKE YOUR CONVERSATION INTO A GIFT
Ideally, you try to do this in conversations regularly, but this time, do it with focus and
intention. Pick a moment you have coming up with someone important to you—a friend, a
relative, your partner. Maybe it’s a meal or walk you’ll be taking together. During this time,
shut off your phone. Give all your focus to the other person. Instead of having an agenda,
be curious. If a topic doesn’t emerge, ask them open-ended questions to land on a subject
that’s important to them: What’s on your mind lately? How’s your relationship with X?
Listen carefully, ask follow-up questions. Share your own experiences without turning the
conversation to yourself. A few days later, email or text the friend to follow up

It is also important to share your own thoughts and dreams, hopes and
worries. The vulnerability of exposing yourself is a way of giving trust and
showing respect for another person’s opinion. It enables the other person to
understand the previous experiences and beliefs you bring to whatever you do
together.
 Food. The world was a very di erent place when the Upadesamrta was written,
of course, and I interpret this exchange of food broadly to mean the exchange of
experiences: any tangible expression of care and service that nourishes body or
spirit, like giving a massage, creating a relaxing space for the other person in the
home, or putting on music you know they enjoy. On a grander scale, my wife left
her beloved family and moved to New York so she could live with me—an
expression of care and generosity that nourished me more than I can say. Once we
were in New York, I introduced her to other women to help her nd a
community. The experiences we exchanged didn’t have to be perfectly matched—
we look for what the other person needs most.

These six exchanges can be thoughtless and empty, or they can have true depth
and meaning. But don’t judge people’s e orts without giving them a chance to
succeed. Nobody can read minds. If your roommate or partner doesn’t guess that
you want them to organize your birthday party, it’s not their fault. Instead, be
clear and honest with them about what you need.

TRY THIS: ASK FOR WHAT YOU WANT

Tell the important people in your life how you like to receive love. When we don’t tell
people what we want, we expect them to read our minds and often judge them for failing
to do so. This week, be more genuine in asking people for help rather than waiting for
them to predict what you want.

1. Think of a complaint you have about a loved one’s behavior. (But don’t look too hard
for faults! If nothing springs to mind, that’s a great sign and you should skip this
exercise.)
2. Dig to the root of the problem. Where is the real dissatisfaction? You might find that
your need corresponds to the loving exchanges. Do you want more time to share and
connect? (conversation) Do you feel unappreciated? (gifts) Do you want more
support? (food or other acts of service)
3. Articulate it without criticism. Say, “This is what would make me feel more loved and
appreciated” instead of “You do this wrong.”

In this way you give a companion a path to connection, which is easier for them and
more likely to fulfill you.

READY FOR LOVE

The six loving exchanges lay a foundation for any close relationship, but most of
us are looking for “the one.” The Harvard Grant Study followed 268 Harvard
undergraduates for seventy- ve years, collecting piles of data about them along
the way. When researchers combed through the data, they found a single factor
that reliably predicted the quality of participants’ lives: love. Participants could
have every other external marker for success—money, a thriving career, good
physical health—but if they didn’t have loving relationships, they weren’t happy.
We all come to relationships with di erent levels of self-awareness. With the
encouragement of online quizzes and dating apps, we list the characteristics we
want in a partner—sense of humor, caring, good-looking—but we don’t look at
what we really need. How do we want to be cared for? What makes us feel loved?
In How to Love, Thich Nhat Hanh writes, “Often, we get crushes on others
not because we truly love and understand them, but to distract ourselves from
our su ering. When we learn to love and understand ourselves and have true
compassion for ourselves, then we can truly love and understand another person.”
After the ashram, when I was ready for a relationship (which was not, as some
friends assumed, the moment I left), my sense of what I wanted in a partner was
steered by self-knowledge. I knew what would complement me and what
wouldn’t. I knew what I needed in my life and what I had to o er. My ability to
nd the right relationship evolved because I had evolved.
As it happened, Radhi Devlukia, the woman who would become my wife,
already had this self-knowledge too. Without the need for the same journey I’d
made, she knew she wanted to be with someone spiritually connected, with high
morals and values. I believe she would have done just ne without me. But I
know my life would have been di erent, full of pain, if I hadn’t taken the time to
work on myself before diving into a serious relationship.
According to Massive Attack, love is a verb. Dan in Real Life says love is an
ability. The Dalai Lama says, “Love is the absence of judgment.” Love is also
patient. It’s kind. And apparently, love is all you need. With so many de nitions
of love in our culture, it’s all a bit confusing. And I was confused, despite all my
monk experience—my self-exploration and intentionality and compassion—
when I ventured out on my rst date back in London.
I already know I like her. The Think Out Loud group I started in college
continued for some years after I left, and I stayed in touch, visiting and lecturing
when I came to London. Radhi was part of that community, had come to some of
my lectures, and had become friends with my sister. Now people from that
community, including me and Radhi, have joined together to organize a charity
event against racism and bullying for young kids in England. Seeing Radhi in that
context has told me more about her than I would have learned on a dating profile,
or even after a few dates. I’ve seen how respectful she is with everyone on the team.
She has interesting opinions and cool ideas. I’ve had a chance to get a real look at
who she is—anyone can be their online profile for a one-hour date. It may be their
best self, but it doesn’t give the full picture.
I still haven’t gotten a full-time job, but I’ve been tutoring to make a bit of
money. I’ve saved up a month’s earnings, and I take Radhi to the theater to see
Wicked. Then I bring her to Locanda Locatelli, a fancy restaurant that’s way above
my pay grade.
She’s polite, but unimpressed. Afterward, she says, “You didn’t have to do this,”
and confesses that her ideal date would be going to a supermarket, walking the
aisles, and buying some bread. I’m mystified. Who would want to do that?
I hadn’t had any relationships since becoming a monk, and I had yet to
reconcile who I was spiritually with how I used to date. I felt like I had one foot in
each world. In spite of my monk training, I snapped right back into my old
relationship mode—the one where I tried to give the other person what media,
movies, and music told me they wanted instead of developing my awareness of
who they were. I myself love gifts and extravagant demonstrations of love, and for
a while I cluelessly continued to shower Radhi with grand gestures. I got it
completely wrong. She wasn’t impressed by any of that. She’s not very fancy. Even
after my years in the ashram, I could still be swayed by external in uences or my
own preferences rather than careful observation of what she liked, but after my
initial missteps, I was aware enough to gure it out, and, thank God, she married
me.
If you don’t know what you want, you’ll send out the wrong signals and
attract the wrong people. If you aren’t self-aware, you’ll look for the wrong
qualities and choose the wrong people. This work is what we’ve talked about
throughout this book. Until you understand yourself, you won’t be ready for
love.
Sometimes we nd ourselves making the same mistake over and over again,
attracting the same sort of incompatible partners or picking them in spite of
ourselves. If this happens, it isn’t bad luck—it’s a clue that we have work to do.
The monk perspective is that you carry pain. You try to nd people to ease that
pain, but only you can do that. If you don’t work through it, it stays with you and
interferes with your decisions. The problematic people who emerge re ect your
unresolved issues, and they will keep reappearing until you learn the lesson you
need to learn. As Iyanla Vanzant said to Oprah, “… until you heal the wounds of
your past, you will continue to bleed. You can bandage the bleeding with food,
with alcohol, with drugs, with work, with cigarettes, with sex; but eventually, it
will all ooze through and stain your life. You must nd the strength to open the
wounds, stick your hands inside, pull out the core of the pain that is holding you
in your past, the memories, and make peace with them.”
Once you’ve unpacked your own bags and you’ve healed yourself (mostly),
then you’ll come to relationships ready to give. You won’t be looking to them to
solve your problems or ll a hole. Nobody completes you. You’re not half. You
don’t have to be perfect, but you have to come to a place of giving. Instead of
draining anyone else, you’re nourishing them.
 KEEPING LOVE ALIVE
Remember when we talked about the mind, we said that happiness comes when
we are learning, progressing, and achieving. And yet as a relationship lengthens,
we tend to long for the honeymoon phase, when we were rst falling in love.
How many times have you been in a relationship, and said to yourself, “I wish I
could feel like that again,” or “I wish we could go back to that time.” But going to
the same place for dinner or to the place you had your rst kiss won’t bring back
all the magic. Many of us are so addicted to re-creating the same experiences that
we don’t make space for new ones. What you were actually doing at the start of
your relationship was creating new memories with energy and openness. Love is
kept alive by creating more new memories—by continuing to learn and grow
together. Fresh experiences bring excitement into your life and build a stronger
bond. I have many recommendations for activities couples can do together, but
here are a couple of my favorites, drawn from monk principles.
1. Find new in the old. Remember when, as monks, we looked for a special
stone on the same walk we took together every day? You too can open your eyes
to the world you already live in. Have a candlelit dinner in the middle of the week.
Read a book to each other before bed instead of staring at your phones. Take a
walk together in the neighborhood and challenge each other to nd a certain kind
of mailbox or to be the rst to spot a bird.
2. Find new ways to spend time together. A study by psychologist Arthur Aron
found that couples strengthen their bonds when they do new and exciting
activities together. My wife and I started to do escape rooms together. An escape
room is a game where you’re both locked in a room and have to nd a way out.
The sta gives you a few clues, and you have to work together to solve many steps
of the puzzle. It may sound a little creepy, but it’s actually a lot of fun. You get to
learn together. You get to make mistakes together. It’s an even playing eld when
neither of you has more experience or expertise than the other. When you
experiment together as a couple, you feel yourselves growing together in all areas
of your life. You could even try something really scary together—like skydiving or
something else that’s outside your comfort zone. Remember all the bene ts that
we found in getting close to our fears? Playing with fear together is a way to
practice going into your deeper fears, sharing them with your partner, feeling
their support, and together transforming fear.
3. Serve together. Just as serving gives meaning to your life, serving with your
partner adds meaning to your connection, whether it’s organizing charity events,
feeding the homeless, or teaching something together. My most bonding
experiences in monk life came about when I took part in collective projects. The
horrid two-day train journey that I’ve mentioned. Planting trees together.
Building a school. Instead of focusing on the challenges of the relationship, we
develop a shared perspective on real-life issues. Connecting for a higher purpose,
we feel gratitude and bring that back into our relationship. I know many couples
who have met through volunteering, so if you’re looking for a well-suited partner,
nd a cause that is close to your heart. If you meet through an activity such as
volunteering, from the start you already have something very deep in common,
and you’re more likely to form a deeper bond.
4. Meditate and chant together. (See page 270.) When a couple who has just
had an argument comes into a room, you can feel the negative energy vibrating
between them. The opposite is true when you and your partner chant together.
You are bringing your energy to the same place and feel, literally, in tune with
each other.
5. Finally, envision together what you both want from the relationship. When
you are aware of what is important to each other, then you can gure out how
much you’re willing to adapt. Ideally, each of you is striving to live in your own
dharma. In the best of relationships, you get there together.

OVERCOMING HEARTBREAK
It can be hard to see clearly when your heart is at stake, but there is one point I
want to make abundantly clear: There is a di erence between being grateful for
what you have and settling for less than you deserve. If we are still listening to our
child minds, we’re attracted to people who aren’t good for us but make us feel
better in the moment. Don’t wrap your self-esteem around someone else.
Nobody deserves verbal, emotional, or physical abuse. It is better to be alone. Nor
should you allow an abusive, manipulative, or toxic relationship to transition into
friendship. The dynamic won’t change, trust me.
In every relationship you have the opportunity to set the level of joy
you expect and the level of pain you’ll accept. No relationship is perfect, but
if joy never reaches a certain height, or holds to a low average, that won’t change
unless you both put in a lot of work. The same is true for how much
disappointment you’re willing to bear. Your connection may get a slow start—it
can take a while to know each other—but if it never reaches a satisfying level, you
need to decide whether to accept it or move on.
I know it’s not easy. When you’ve spent quality time with someone, when
you’ve invested in someone, when you’ve given yourself to someone, it’s so hard
to let go. Tibetan Buddhist nun Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo points out that we often
mistake attachment for love. She says, “We imagine that the grasping and clinging
that we have in our relationships shows that we love. Whereas actually, it is just
attachment, which causes pain. Because the more we grasp, the more we are afraid
to lose, then if we do lose, then of course we are going to su er.” Ultimately,
holding on to the wrong person causes us more pain than letting them go.
 The strategies I recommend to overcome heartbreak tie directly to monk ideas
of the self, and how we nd our way toward peace and purpose. No matter what
thought we have, we don’t run away from it. We give ourselves space to assess and
make changes. SPOT, STOP, SWAP.
Feel every emotion. It’s possible to distract yourself from heartbreak, but the
x is only temporary. And if you deny your feelings, you end up su ering in other
ways. Researchers followed incoming college freshmen to see how well they
adapted to their transition and found that those with a tendency to suppress their
emotions had fewer close relationships and felt less social support. Instead, think
about how the other person has made you feel in this situation. You might want
to articulate your feelings by writing them down or recording them. Read what
you’ve written and listen back objectively. Do you hear any recurring patterns?
You can also do a question meditation, asking yourself about the loss. We like
to replay emotions: how perfect it was, how it could have been, how we thought
it was going to go. Instead of re ecting on how romantic the relationship was
before it crashed and burned, focus on the reality. What were your hopes for the
relationship? What did you lose? Is your disappointment tied to who the person
was, or who they weren’t? Explore your emotions until you uncover the root of
the pain and disruption.
Learn from the situation. Movies, music, and other media send us limited,
often inaccurate messages about what love should look like. Use the reality of the
breakup to set realistic expectations about what you deserve and need from a new
relationship and remember that yours can be di erent from the person you broke
up with and/or the next person to come along. What was the biggest expectation
you had that wasn’t met? What was important to you? What was good in the
relationship, what was bad? What was your role in its demise? Instead of
exploring your pain here, you want to investigate the workings of the relationship
in order to identify what you want from your next relationship, and what you
might have to work on in yourself.
Believe in your worth. You may undervalue yourself in the moment of a
breakup, but your value doesn’t depend on someone’s ability to fully appreciate
you. If you wrap your identity around the relationship, the pain you feel is that
you’ve had to sacri ce that part of your identity. If you expected one person to
ful ll all of your needs, then of course there is a vacuum when they’re gone. Now
that you’re single, use this time to build a community of people with shared
interests whom you want to be in your life forever. Make yourself whole. You
need to be someone who makes you happy.
Wait before dating again. Remember, if you haven’t healed past pain, you
might miss your next opportunity for an incredible connection with an incredible
person. Don’t rebound or revenge-date. This only causes more hurt and regret
that spread further, a virus of pain. Instead, take some time to get to know
yourself better. Build your self-esteem. Invest in your growth. If you’ve lost
yourself in the relationship, nd yourself in the heartbreak.
The monk way is to build awareness, address, and amend. Either within a
relationship or before we enter one, we take a step back to evaluate and make sure
we understand our own intentions. Then we can venture into the dating world or
return to the relationship with self-awareness and love. SPOT, STOP, SWAP.

We have turned our attention outward to address the intimate relationships in

our lives. Now we come to our relationship with the larger world. I mentioned
that at the ashram I felt a bond beyond my ties to my family, a far greater force
uniting and connecting us all. The astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson said, “We
are all connected; to each other, biologically. To the Earth, chemically. And to the
rest of the universe, atomically.” Knowing this, we must look to the universe to
nd true meaning in our lives.
 ELEVEN

SERVICE
Plant Trees Under Whose Shade You Do Not Plan
to Sit

The ignorant work for their own profit… the wise

work for the welfare of the world…
—Bhagavad Gita, 3:25

I am a novice at the ashram, and we’ve been dropped off in a village

with no money and no food, with the mission to find our own way
for thirty days.
The weather is decent, and we’ve been given a warehouse for
shelter. We leave our mats there and venture into the village. There
are simple huts from which people sell food, spices, and sundries.
Laundry is strung between the huts. Most people travel by bike or on
foot—some of the children are barefoot.
Untethered, without a plan, the first thing we feel is fear, which
provokes us to do whatever it takes to survive. We ask for handouts—
people in India are generous and often give bread, fruit, or coins to
people in spiritual dress. We visit the temple where pilgrims are
given free food called prasad—this is sanctified food that is offered to
God, then handed out. Anxious about our survival, we resort to
selfishness and hoarding.
By the second week, we’re in better shape. We’ve figured out that
we can earn our provisions by offering help to people in the village.
We start assisting people with heavy loads or peddlers who could use
a hand with their carts. We soon learn that opening our hearts and
souls encourages others to do the same. The donations we receive
aren’t dramatically different from the ones we got when we first
arrived, but the exchange gives us a warm sense of communal
compassion and generosity, and I feel like I’ve absorbed the lesson of
our journey. We thought we had nothing, and indeed we had barely
any material possessions. But we were still able to give people our
effort.
However, by the final week, we’re well-fed and secure enough to
notice something deeper. Though we had come with nothing, we still
had a certain kind of wealth: we are stronger and more capable than
a lot of the people in the village. There are seniors, children, and
disabled people on the street, all of them in greater need than we are.
“I feel bad,” one monk says. “This is short-term for us. For them
it’s forever.”
“I think we’re missing something,” I add. “We can do more in
this village than survive.” We recall Helen Keller’s refrain: “I cried
because I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet.” This is,
unfortunately, no exaggeration. In India, you often see people with
missing limbs.
I realize that now that we have found our way, we can share the
food and money we have received with those who aren’t as able as we
are. Just when I think I’ve learned the lesson of our journey, I come
upon a revelation that affects me profoundly: Everyone, even those of
us who have already dedicated our lives to service, can always give
more.
These three stages of transformation felt like a microcosm of
the entire monk experience: First, we let go of the external and the
ego; second, we recognize our value and learn that we don’t need
to own anything in order to serve; and third, we continually seek a
higher level of service. On that trip I recognized that there is always
room to rise, there is always more to give. Sister Christine
Vladimiro , a Benedictine nun, as quoted in The Monastic Way,
wrote, “Monastic spirituality teaches us that we are on a journey.
The journey is inward to seek God in prayer and silence. Taken
alone, we can romanticize this aspect of our life.… But to be
monastic there is a parallel journey—the journey outward. We live
in community to grow in sensitivity to the needs of others.… The
monastery is then a center to come out of and to invite others into.
The key is always to maintain both journeys—inward and
outward.”

THE HIGHEST PURPOSE

In his lecture at my college, Gauranga Das had inspired me when
he said, “Plant trees under whose shade you do not plan to sit.”
That sentence captivated me and launched me on a trajectory I
had never imagined. And now I have to make a confession. I’ve
been holding out on you. We have talked about how to let go of
the in uences of external noise, fear, envy, and false goals. We have
explored how to grow by harnessing our minds, our egos, and our
daily practices to live in our dharma. All of this is toward the goal
of leading ful lling, meaningful lives—a worthy path. But here,
and on social media, and in my classes, and in every medium in
which I teach, I haven’t yet revealed the most important lesson I
learned as a monk and one that I carry with me every day of my
life. Drumroll, please.
The highest purpose is to live in service.
It’s not that I’ve been keeping service a secret; I mention it
often. But I’ve waited until now to talk about the central role I
believe it should play in all of our lives because, frankly, I think
most of us are somewhat resistant to the idea. Sure, we want to
help those in need, and maybe we already nd ways to do so, but
we are limited by the pressure and needs of our own work and
lives. We want to solve our own issues rst. “Jay, I’m the one who
needs help! I have so much to gure out before I can devote myself
to helping others.” It’s true. It’s hard to think about sel essness
when we are struggling. And yet that is exactly what I learned as a
monk. Sel essness is the surest route to inner peace and a
meaningful life. Sel essness heals the self.
Monks live in service, and to think like a monk ultimately
means to serve. The Monastic Way quotes Benedictine monk
Dom Aelred Graham as saying, “The monk may think he has
come [to the monastery] to gain something for himself: peace,
security, quiet, a life of prayer, or study, or teaching; but if his
vocation is genuine, he nds that he has come not to take but to
give.” We seek to leave a place cleaner than we found it,
people happier than we found them, the world better than
we found it.
We are nature, and if we look at and observe nature carefully,
nature is always serving. The sun provides heat and light. Trees
give oxygen and shade. Water quenches our thirst. We can—and
monks do—view everything in nature as serving. The Srimad-
Bhagavatam says, “Look at these fortunate trees. They live solely
for the bene t of others. They tolerate wind, rain, heat, and snow,
but still provide shelter for our bene t.” The only way to be one
with nature is to serve. It follows that the only way to align
properly with the universe is to serve because that’s what the
universe does.
The sixteenth-century guru Rupa Goswami talks about yukta-
vairāgya, which means to do everything for a higher purpose.
That’s real detachment, utter renunciation, perfection. Some
monk sects strictly apply this standard to their practices, stripping
themselves of material possessions altogether, but in reality the rest
of us need to work for a living. We’re all going to end up owning
stu . But we can look at how we use what we have. We can use our
homes to foster community. We can use our money and resources
to support causes we believe in. We can volunteer our talents for
those in need. It’s not wrong to have things if we use them for
good.
The Bhagavad Gita sees the whole world as a kind of school, an
education system structured to make us realize one truth: We are
compelled to serve, and only in service can we be happy. Like re is
hot, as the sun is light and warm, service is the essence of human
consciousness. Know the reality of the world in which you live.
Know it to be impermanent, unreal, and the source of your
su ering and delusion. Seeing the purpose of life to be sense
grati cation—making ourselves feel good—leads to pain and
dissatisfaction. Seeing it as service leads to ful llment.

SERVICE IS GOOD FOR THE BODY AND SOUL

Service ful lls us on many levels, beginning with my simple belief
that we’re born wired to care for others so service does us good.
This instinct is most obvious in children, who aren’t yet distracted
by other demands on their time and attention. An image that went
viral shows a little girl, probably about two years old, watching a
politician crying on Japanese TV. She takes a tissue, goes up to the
TV, and tries to wipe away the politician’s tears. Such things go
viral because we recognize—and perhaps miss—the little girl’s
compassion for another person, even a stranger.
In Long Walk to Freedom, Nelson Mandela writes, “No one is
born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his
background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they
can learn to hate, then they can be taught to love, for love comes
more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.” Just as
Mandela believed people were born to love but taught to hate,
monks believe that we are born to serve, but the distractions of the
external world make us forget our purpose. We need to reconnect
with that instinct in order to feel like life has meaning.
I have already touched on Joseph Campbell’s concept of the
mythic hero’s journey. It is a formula describing the steps that a
hero goes through when he embarks on an adventure, encounters
trials and obstacles, and returns victorious. One of the key
elements of the hero’s journey is one we often overlook—the last
stage, which Campbell called “return with elixir.” The hero’s
journey isn’t ful lled until he makes it home safely and shares
what he has gained (the elixir) with others. The idea of service is
woven into classic story structure as a key part of a happy ending.
Seane Corn is living out the hero’s journey. She made her name
as a teacher of yoga asana. She was (and still is) a marquee teacher
at yoga conferences and festivals around the world, but at one
point in her career as a yoga teacher, she realized that with her
platform, she could make an even more meaningful impact in the
world, so she shifted her focus to serving at-risk communities.
Corn decided to try bringing breath and meditation techniques to
those in need, starting with kids who’d been sexually exploited.
Then she grew her practice into working with other people society
deems as outcasts, such as prostitutes and drug addicts. From that
vantage point, she reached back into the yoga community to
cofound O the Mat, Into the World, a nonpro t that links yoga
with activism. As dedicated as she is to service, Corn maintains
that she gets more than she gives. “Find me someone who has gone
to the darkest parts of their own character where they were so
close to their own self-destruction and found a way to get up and
out of it, and I will bow on my knees to you.… You’re my teacher.”
As Corn found, service gives back to us.
Studies show that when we pursue “compassionate goals”—
those aimed at helping others or otherwise helping to make the
world a better place—we’re less likely to have symptoms of anxiety
and depression than when we focus on improving or protecting
our own status or reputation. The act of giving to others activates
the pleasure center of our brain. It’s win-win-win. This may be
why those who help others tend to live longer, be healthier, and
have a better overall sense of well-being.
Monks believe that the pillar of service makes our lives better in
many ways.
Service connects us. When you serve, it’s hard to be lonely. In
most scenarios, you have to go out into the world to help other
people.
 Service ampli es gratitude. Service gives you a broad view of
all that you have.
Service increases compassion. When you serve, you see that
the world needs what you have to o er.
Service builds self-esteem. Helping others tells you that
you’re making a di erence in the world. You have a sense of
meaning and purpose.
The ashram is designed around the intention to serve, and it’s
easier to live with that as your highest intention when everyone
around you is on board. A life of service is far more challenging in
the modern world, and we can’t all follow the monks’ 24/7 model,
but the monk practice shows us why and how we should adopt a
service mindset.

THE SERVICE MINDSET

The word seva is Sanskrit for sel ess service. The Bhagavad Gita
says that “giving simply because it is right to give, without thought
of return, at a proper time, in proper circumstances, and to a
worthy person, is sattvic giving”—giving in the mode of goodness.
Monks are solely motivated by sel ess service: to give others
opportunities that we had and didn’t have; to better others’ lives
and the human condition. We took this mission to heart in small
and large ways. Within the ashram, we tried to serve each other
every day. Monks don’t make grand gestures. Love is in the small
things. If someone was having trouble waking up on time, we’d
help them. If someone was working late, we’d save food for them.
We are consistent and intentional. We remember that we never
know what someone is going through, so we treat them with the
gentleness you would give someone who is in pain, with the
generosity you would give someone who is hungry, with the
compassion you would give someone who is misunderstood.
This attitude radiated beyond the ashram. When we traveled,
we always carried extra food with us so that we had some to give
away. We weren’t ending world hunger, but to help any hungry
person is to water the seeds of compassion.
On a larger scale, we participated in a program called
Annamrita, which provides more than a million meals a day to the
underprivileged children of India. We often went to Mumbai to
cook in the kitchens or to serve food in the schools. The students
were given kitchari, a rice and lentil porridge made with ghee that’s
considered a staple in Ayurvedic cooking, and afterward they
would receive dessert, a sweet rice pudding called kheer. The rst
time I handed a child kheer, her gratitude was so apparent that I
was humbled. It was the same with every child, every time, each
face radiating joy. I hate cooking—the hot kitchen full of people,
the massive pots to be tended. But the kids’ faces—and the sad
truth they told about how rare and special the food was to them—
made it easy to feel grateful for the opportunity to serve.
At the ashram, instead of saying “How was work?” we might
ask, “Have you served today?” If you were wondering what monk
water-cooler talk sounds like—there you have it. Set aside the
obstacles for a moment and imagine if everyone had a service
mindset. We would ask ourselves new questions: How does this
serve a broader purpose? How am I serving the people around me—
at work, at home, in my community? How can I use my talents to
serve others and make a difference? Remember Emma Slade, who
uses her nancial skills to serve her charity work, and ask yourself,
“What do I know that is of any use?”
We have seen that happiness and gratitude spread through
communities. The same is true for service. When you serve, you
mention it to your friends. You might bring someone else with
you. Someone joins you, and they tell two friends. When you
participate in service, you do your part to spread the value of
service in our culture.

TRY THIS: EXTEND YOUR RADIUS OF CARE

Think of four to six people you would drop everything to help. How often
do you think about these people? Do you ever actually have a chance to
 show your care for them? Can you start?
Now think of twenty people you would help if they asked. Before you
give up, let me make that easier for you. Think of a group containing at
least twenty people whom you would help. It might be a segment of your
community or a group that a charity already serves. Let’s bring these
people into a closer circle of care.
If you don’t know them, research the names of twenty people in this
group or find another way to compile a list of at least twenty names.
Tape the list to the mirror where you brush your teeth. Now you’ll think of
them at least twice a day (I hope!). Observe how this changes your
motivation to serve them.

Most people think about just one person: themselves. Maybe

their radius of care is a bit bigger, including their immediate
family. That’s, maybe, ve to ten people worrying about one
another. But if you expand your radius of care, I believe that
people feel it. If others extend their radius of care to include you, I
believe that you would feel it. And what if we dare to imagine that
everyone were thinking like this? You would have some 7.8 billion
people thinking about you, and vice versa. I don’t see why we
shouldn’t dream big.

WHEN WILL YOU BE READY TO SERVE?

Out in the modern world, no matter how much we want to help
others, we are distracted from the service mindset by the desire to
be nancially and emotionally stable and secure. If you’re lost and
disconnected, your service will be cumbersome and less ful lling.
But when is the time right? Will it ever be right? Internal
exploration has no endpoint. It’s an ongoing practice. Your
problems will never be completely solved.
Take care of yourself—yes. But don’t wait until you have
enough time and money to serve. You will never have enough.
There are three simple modes to describe our relationship with
money and material wealth. The rst is sel sh—I want more—as
much as I can get—and I want it all for myself. The second is
su ciency—I have just enough to get by. I’m not su ering, but I
have nothing to give. The third is service—I want to give what I
have, and I want more in order to give more.
Moving from the su ciency mindset to the service mindset
means changing our relationship with ownership—the more
detached we are, the easier it is to let go of our time and money.
Some of our trips as monks were pilgrimages to bathe in the
sacred rivers. I went to the Ganges, the Yamuna, and the Kaveri.
We didn’t swim or play in the holy waters. Instead, we performed
rituals; one involved scooping as much water as we could into our
hands, then putting it back in the river. We took from water to
give back to water as a reminder that we didn’t own anything.
Charity isn’t giving of yourself. You’re taking something that was
already on earth and giving it back to earth. You don’t have to
have to give.
Sindhutai Sapkal was married at twelve to a thirty-year-old
man. When she was twenty years old, with three sons, nine
months pregnant, she was beaten and thrown into a cow shed. She
gave birth there, cutting her own umbilical cord with a sharp rock.
Shunned by her maternal village, she lived on the streets with her
newborn, begging and singing for money. She was struck by the
number of orphans she saw and took them under her wing. She
began begging on their behalf as well as her own. Her e orts grew,
and she became known as the “Mother of Orphans.” Her
organizations have now housed and helped more than fourteen
hundred children in India. Sindhutai didn’t serve because she had
something to give. She served because she saw pain.
In a series of experiments, researchers at University of
California, Berkeley, found that people with less money actually
tend to give more. In one situation, people were given $10 and told
they could choose an amount to share with an anonymous
stranger. People who were lower in socioeconomic status were
more generous than wealthier participants. These ndings are
backed up by a survey of charitable giving in 2011, which showed
that Americans in the bottom percentage of income gave, on
average, 3 percent of their earnings to charity where people in the
top 20 percent gave half that—1 percent. (Just to be fair, the
wealthy are still responsible for over 70 percent of charitable
contributions.)
Why those with less give more may have to do with their
exposure to hardship. UC Berkeley professor of psychology
Dacher Keltner says that people with fewer resources tend to need
to lean on others—family members, friends, those in their
community—for help. Those with more money, conversely, can
“buy” help and are therefore more distanced from this kind of
day-to-day struggle. The poor may have greater empathy for others
in need. Some philanthropists, such as Oprah Winfrey, have
mentioned their own prior experience of poverty as a motivation
for giving.
The question to contemplate is: Who is wealthier, the one with
money or the one who serves?

SERVE WITH INTENTION

I had come to the ashram to serve, and when I was saying my
goodbyes, one monk who had been a like a big brother to me took
me aside. He said something like, “If your health and being a
monk isn’t right for you, that doesn’t mean you can’t serve. If you
feel you can serve better by being married or becoming a chef or
darning socks for the needy, that takes priority. Service to
humanity is the higher goal.” His words reassured me that just
because I was leaving didn’t mean my intention had to change.
One can serve with a mix of intentions, broad and narrow. We
might do it to be liked, to feel good about ourselves, to look good,
to connect with other people, to receive some kind of reward. But
if you’re out there helping your friends move, cooking for them,
celebrating them, and then you wonder, Why doesn’t anyone come
help me? or Why did everyone forget my birthday?—you’ve missed
the point. You’re seeing yourself as the giver and them as the
receiver and imagining that when service is done, a debt is created.
True service doesn’t expect or even want anything in return.
Nonetheless, the service itself often yields happiness, as both the
Bhagavad Gita and the science show. When I do something to
serve you, and you’re happy, I’m happy.
But is service sel sh if it brings you joy? Is it sel sh if it teaches
your children a lesson? Of course not! If a certain kind of giving
makes you happy or bene ts you in some way, that’s a great place
to start. After I left the ashram, I led retreats from London to
Mumbai, giving people from the UK and other parts of Europe a
chance to serve “midday meals” with Annamrita. One man who
came on a retreat with me brought his kids, aged thirteen and
fourteen. They returned from that trip having witnessed and felt
the gratitude of people who didn’t have much in their lives. The
father was thrilled at how transformed his kids were. His trip was
not completely sel ess—he wanted his children to learn and grow
—but it was still the right thing to do. In fact, the learning
opportunity he saw for his children is an example of the mutual
bene ts of service.
The problems that some of us face are mental—anxiety,
depression, loneliness—whereas for many of the people in need of
service the greatest challenges are more basic—food, clothing,
shelter. We can heal our mental challenges by helping them with
their physical needs. Service, therefore, is a reciprocal exchange.
You’re not saving anyone by helping them—you need help as
much as they do.
When we’re in service, we’re an instrument of grace and
compassion. We feel this, and sometimes it goes to our heads. But
remember that whatever you are giving was given to you. When
you pass it on, you can’t take credit for it.

SERVE WITHIN YOUR DHARMA

Because service is a natural part of being human, it’s easier than
you think. Just serve. We can always, every day—right now!—
nd ways to serve through what we’re already doing. If you’re a
musician, serve. If you’re a coder, serve. If you’re an entrepreneur,
serve. You don’t have to change your occupation. You don’t have
to change your schedule. You can serve from any situation.
If you look around, you will see opportunities for service
everywhere: in schools, at religious institutions, with individuals
on the street, charities. There are neighborhood food drives and
used costume drives at school. You can run a race to raise money
for charity or have a lemonade stand. You can help a friend gather
toiletries to send to disaster victims. You can visit a sick or aging
relative. If you live in a city, you can often carry your leftovers out
of a restaurant and o er them to a homeless person. Those closest
to us, and those who have nobody—there are in nite ways to
serve. You don’t have to do charity work every day or give away all
your money. Simply realize you’re in service and look for how you
can connect what you already do to a higher purpose. Just as you
bring your dharma to work, bring service to your dharma. It’s
about the spirit in which you do the same work. You can either see
the world through the lens of love and duty, or through the lens of
necessity and force. Love and duty are more likely to lead to
happiness.

TRY THIS: WAYS TO SERVE

Over the course of a week, write down every place where you spend
time. Open your eyes to the service opportunities by looking for one in
every circumstance. Sometimes it is a need that you spot, sometimes it
is an existing project you can join, sometimes it is attaching a fundraiser
to an activity you already do, sometimes it is a friend’s service effort. At
the end of the week, pick the three opportunities that interest you most
and reach out to one of them.
Here are some sample places where you can look for opportunities:

Work
School
Social event with friend(s)
Online community
Religious or other community group
 Gym
Requests for help from a cause you’ve supported in the past

ALL SUFFERING BELONGS TO ALL OF US

When the monks and I were fending for ourselves in the village,
the ultimate lesson for me was that there was always another level
of service. This lesson emerged from looking past our own needs
to see and feel and respond to the needs of those around us.
I think of compassion as active empathy—not only the
willingness to see, feel, and ease the pain of others, but also the
willingness to take on some of that pain. There is a Zen story
about a young man who is world-weary and dejected. With no
plan or prospects, he goes to a monastery, tells the master that he is
hoping to nd a better path, but he admits that he lacks patience.
“Can I nd enlightenment without all that meditation and
fasting?” he asks. “I don’t think I can handle it. Is there another
way?”
“Perhaps,” says the master, “But you will need the ability to
focus. Are there any skills you’ve developed?”
The young man looks down. He hasn’t been inspired by his
studies or any particular interests. Finally, he shrugs. “Well, I’m
not bad at chess.”
The master calls over one of the monk elders and says, “I’d like
you and this young man to play a game of chess. Play carefully,
because I will cut o the head of the one who loses.”
The young man breaks into a sweat. He’s playing for his life!
He plays weakly at rst, but it soon becomes clear that his
opponent’s chess skills are fair at best. If he puts his mind to it, he
will surely win. He soon loses himself in concentration and begins
to beat the old monk. The master begins to sharpen his sword.
Now the young man looks across the table, sees the wise, calm
face of the old monk, who in his obedience and detachment has no
fear of the death that certainly awaits him. The disillusioned man
thinks, I can’t be responsible for this man’s death. His life is worth
more than mine. Then the young man’s play changes—he
deliberately begins to lose.
Without warning, the master ips the table over, scattering the
pieces. “Today there will be no winner, and no loser,” he states.
The losing monk’s calm demeanor doesn’t change, but the
astonished young man feels a great sense of relief. The elder says to
him, “You have the ability to concentrate, and you are willing to
give your life for another. That is compassion. Join us and proceed
in that spirit. You are ready to be a monk.”
There are approximately 152 million child laborers in the
world, and Kailash Satyarthi has taken on an enormous amount of
pain in his e ort to end child labor. In 2016 the Nobel Peace
Laureate launched the 100 Million, a campaign to enlist 100
million young people to speak out and act against child labor. In
the course of his work he has been threatened and beaten many
times. He says, “The world is capable to end child labor. We have
the technology. We have the resources. We have laws and
international treaties. We have everything. The only thing is that
we have to feel compassion for others. My struggle is for the
globalization of compassion.”
Like Satyarthi, we are motivated to serve when we think of the
whole world as one family. You wouldn’t want your child to be
enslaved or your parent to be homeless. Why would you want
those hardships for anyone else’s child or parent? If you stay shut
in your world and never see how other people live, you’ll never be
focused on service. When we bear witness to other people’s pain,
we feel our shared humanity and are motivated to take action.
For heroes like Satyarthi and for monks—and ideally for all of
us—there is no us and them.

FOLLOW THE PAIN IN YOUR HEART

An in nite number of people and causes need our help now. We
need everyone in the world to do everything. The bene ts to them
and us are immediate.
While we should never avoid helping others when we see their
need, we can and should develop a sense of what sorts of service
we’re best at and focus our attention on them. Choose where to
serve based on your own compassion. Buddhist scholar and
environmental activist Joanna Macy writes, “You don’t need to do
everything. Do what calls your heart; e ective action comes from
love. It is unstoppable, and it is enough.”

TRY THIS: SERVE THE PAIN THAT YOU KNOW BEST

One route to service is through healing the pain that we know best. Write
down three moments in your life when you felt lost or in need. Maybe
you were depressed and could have used support. Maybe you wanted an
education you couldn’t afford. Maybe you needed guidance but didn’t
have the right teacher. Match a charity or cause to each area of pain. A
teen hotline. A scholarship fund. A mentoring program. A politician. Now
see if any of these options have opportunities to serve that suit your
dharma.

Serving through your dharma, healing the pain that you

connect with—this approach is very much in line with the
philosophy of the Bhagavad Gita, which likes to meet you
wherever you are and encourage you to reach higher. When I was a
monk, I prepared food for children with Annamrita, cleaned
temples, always carried food to hand out to strangers, and
otherwise served in the ways that made sense for me at the time.
Now, with a di erent platform, I’ve been able to help a YouTube
campaign raise nearly $150,000 for the Kailash Satyarthi
Children’s Foundation of America. On Facebook my community
raised over $60,000 for Pencils of Promise. ($75 provides a year of
education for one child.) The sense of meaning and gratitude I feel
has been constant as my path of giving evolves.
Here’s the life hack: Service is always the answer. It xes a bad
day. It tempers the burdens we bear. Service helps other people
and helps us. We don’t expect anything in return, but what we get
is the joy of service. It’s an exchange of love.
When you’re living in service, you don’t have time to complain
and criticize.
When you’re living in service, your fears go away.
When you’re living in service, you feel grateful. Your material
attachments diminish.
Service is the direct path to a meaningful life.
 MEDITATION

CHANT

We have explored how to connect to people around us through

gratitude, relationships, and service. As we do this it is tting to
incorporate sound meditation into our practice to connect with
the energy of the universe.
Sound transports us. A song can take us back to a high school
memory, make us want to dance, get us red up. Words themselves
have power—they can change how we see the world and how we
grow. When we chant, we ourselves are generating this energy.
Sound meditations allow us to connect with our souls and the
universe through words and song.
Ancient spiritual texts including the Agni Purana and the Vayu
Purana discuss the why and how of chanting, suggesting that the
repetition of sound puri es us. The sound is immersive, like giving
our souls a regular bath. You can’t put one drop of water on your
body and be clean—you have to go underneath the water.
Recognizing the value of sound has carried through to modern
times. Legendary inventor Nikola Tesla said, “If you want to nd
the secrets of the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency, and
vibration.” Tesla experimented extensively with machines that
created healing elds using vibrations. That may strike you as a bit
woo-woo, but modern science is actually resurrecting Tesla’s
research on vibrational healing. Modern brain research is also
starting to uncover scienti c explanations for the healing power of
ancient healing rituals, like how repetitive drumming and singing
can open pathways to the subconscious.
 Monks harness the power of sound by repeating a rmations or
mantras during meditation. An a rmation is a word or phrase
you want to set as an intention. Virtually anything that inspires
you can work. One of my clients says her favorite is: “At your own
pace, in your own time.” A friend of mine read a book called
Brave, Not Perfect by Reshma Saujani and made the title her
mantra for a while. I also like: “This too shall pass.” Or a phrase
from a poet, such as “Live everything” (by Rilke); a sports quote,
like “This moment is yours” (from Olympic ice hockey coach
Herb Brooks); a song lyric, like “Brush your shoulders o ” (by Jay-
Z), something from a movie, like “Woosah” (courtesy of Bad Boys
II). Anything that connects you to the energy or idea you want to
cultivate in your life can be e ective. I recommend adding a
mantra to your morning and/or evening meditation practice. It is
beautiful to wake up or go to sleep listening to the sound of your
own voice chanting.
Where a rmations change the way you speak to yourself,
mantras change the way you speak to the universe. Mantra in a
deep sense means “to transcend the mind,” and a mantra is a
spiritual sound expressing thought and meaning that summons a
power greater than ourselves. Mantras can be chanted or sung in
unison. We meditate to listen and nd clarity. We pray to share
and nd connection with a higher power. Chanting is both—a
dialogue with the universe.
The oldest, most common, and most sacred mantra is Om. In
Vedic texts the sound is given many shades of meaning, from
in nite knowledge to the essence of everything that exists to the
whole Veda. Om also is called pranava, whose meaning can be
described as “the sound by which the Lord is praised.” In
chanting, om comprises three syllables—A-U-M. In Vedic
tradition, this is important because each sound embodies a
di erent state (wakefulness, dreaming, and deep sleep) or period
of time itself (past, present, and future). You could say that the
word om represents everything.
 The vibrations from om have been shown to stimulate the
vagus nerve, which decreases in ammation. Vagus nerve
stimulation is also used as a treatment for depression, and
researchers are looking at whether chanting om may have a direct
e ect on mood. (It’s already been shown to calm one of the brain’s
emotional centers.)
When a mantra is put to music it’s called kirtan, a type of call-
and-response chanting, which we often used at the ashram. A
similar experience is fans chanting in a stadium—minus the
alcohol and foul language. But the atmosphere that can be created
has the same feeling of united energy.
Though sound itself is of value, when I temporarily lost my
voice for medical reasons, I reached out to a monk teacher. I said,
“I can’t chant mantras. How can I meditate?”
He said, “Chanting was never from your mouth. It was always
from your heart.” He meant that, as with all acts, what mattered
was whether the intention was full of devotion and love. The heart
transcends instructions and perfection.

TRY THIS: SEEING THROUGH SOUND

For the sound exercises I describe below, begin your practice with the
following steps.

1. Find a comfortable position—sitting in a chair, sitting upright with a

cushion, or lying down.
2. Close your eyes.
3. Lower your gaze.
4. Make yourself comfortable in this position.
5. Bring your awareness to calm, balance, ease, stillness, and peace.
6. Whenever your mind wanders, just gently and softly bring it back to
calm, balance, ease, stillness, and peace.
7. Chant each of these mantras three times each. When you chant
them, bring your attention to each syllable. Pronounce it properly so
that you can hear the vibration clearly. Really feel the mantra,
repeating it genuinely and sincerely, and visualizing a more insightful,
blessed, and service-filled life.

1. OM NAMO BHAGAVATE VASUDEVAYA

“I offer praise unto the all-pervading divinity present within every heart;
who is the embodiment of beauty, intelligence, strength, wealth, fame,
and detachment.”
This mantra has been chanted for millennia by yogis and sages. It is
cleansing and empowering, and connects one with the divinity in
everything. It can be recited especially when you are seeking insight and
guidance.
2. OM TAT SAT
“The absolute truth is eternal.”
This mantra appears in the Bhagavad Gita. It represents divine energy
and invokes powerful blessings. All work is performed as an offering of
love and service. This mantra is recited especially before beginning any
important work, to help perfect and refine our intentions and bring about
balance and wholeness.
3. LOKAH SAMASTAH SUKHINO BHAVANTU
“May all beings everywhere be happy and free, and may the thoughts,
words, and actions of my own life contribute in some way to that
happiness and to that freedom for all.”
This mantra, popularized by Jivamukti yoga, is a beautiful reminder to
look beyond ourselves and to remember our place in the universe.
 Conclusion

I hope this book has inspired you, and perhaps you will come away
from it planning a fresh start. Maybe you’re thinking about how
to change your routines, to listen to your mind in new ways, to
bring more gratitude into your life, and more. But when you wake
up tomorrow, things will go wrong. You might sleep through your
alarm. Something will break. An important appointment will
cancel. The universe isn’t going to suddenly give you green lights
all the way to work. It’s a mistake to think that when we read a
book, attend a class, and implement changes that we’ll x
everything. The externals will never be perfect, and the goal isn’t
perfection. Life is not going to go your way. You have to go your
way and take life with you. Understanding this will help you be
prepared for whatever may come.
There is no universal plan for peace and purpose. The way we
get there is by training our minds to focus on how to react,
respond, and commit to what we want in life, in our own pace, at
our own time. Then, when life swerves, we return to that focus. If
you’ve decided to be kind, and someone is rude to you, you know
what you want to come back to. If you wake up resolved to focus
on your dharma at work, and then your boss gives you an
assignment that’s not aligned with your strengths, it’s up to you to
nd a way to put your dharma to use. When you fail, don’t judge
the process and don’t judge yourself. Give yourself latitude to
recover and return to a exible focus on what you want. The world
isn’t with you or against you. You create your own reality in every
moment.
Throughout this book, we have encountered paradoxes. We
talk about getting close to fear to move away from it, nding the
new in our routines, having con dence and humility, being sel sh
to be sel ess. We live in a binary world, but the beauty of paradox
is that two opposing ideas can coexist. Life isn’t a computer
program—it’s a dance.
In The Karate Kid, Mr. Miyagi says, “Never trust [a] spiritual
leader who cannot dance.” When we dance, there are no rules. We
must be open to whatever song comes on. We have strengths and
weaknesses. We might fall, or hesitate over our next move, or have
a moment of overenthusiasm, but we keep owing, allowing
ourselves to be messy and beautiful. Like a dancer, the monk mind
is exible and controlled, always present in the moment.

THE MONK METHOD

I can think of no better tool to help you nd exibility and control
than meditation. Meditation helps you gure out what move to
make in the dance. In meditation, we nd clarity on who we need
to be right now, in order to be our best in the moment. Our breath
connects with our minds, our souls are uplifted in song, and in
that place of energy and unity, we nd answers.
I have introduced you to three di erent types of meditation,
and now I’m going to give you a daily practice that includes all of
them: breathwork, visualization, and chanting. I practice some
form of this meditation every day. I recommend that you make it
the rst thing you do in the morning after brushing your teeth and
showering, and last thing you do before bed. Start with twenty-
one minutes once a day, using a timer to give yourself seven
minutes each for breathwork, visualization, and mantra. When
you are ready for more, expand to twenty-one minutes twice a day,
ideally rst thing in the morning and last thing at night. Make sure
you always begin with breathwork. Like a warm-up before you
exercise, it should not be skipped!

1. Find a comfortable position—sitting in a chair, sitting

upright with a cushion, or lying down.
 2. Close your eyes and lower your gaze. Bring your awareness
to calm, balance, ease, stillness, and peace. It is natural for
the chatter and clutter to be busy in your mind. Whenever
your mind wanders, just gently and softly bring it back to
calm, balance, ease, stillness, and peace.
3. Make yourself comfortable in this position. Roll back your
shoulders, stretch your neck and body, and nd a physical
space of calm, balance, ease, stillness, and peace.
4. Now become aware of your natural breathing pattern.
Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.
5. Take a deep breath. Breathe in for a count of 1 - 2 - 3 - 4.
Breathe out for a count of 1 - 2 - 3 - 4.
6. Align your body and your breath by breathing in for the
same amount of time as you breathe out.
7. Do this for what feels like ve minutes. At rst you might
want to set a timer with a pleasant tone to signal that the ve
minutes have passed.
8. Ask yourself, “What am I grateful for today?” Breathe in
gratitude and breathe out negative, toxic energy.
9. Now visualize a joy-, happiness-, and gratitude- lled
memory. Think of ve things you can see, four things you
can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can
smell, and one thing you can taste. Absorb the love, joy, and
happiness. Take the love from that moment and visualize it
owing through your entire body. From your feet, to your
legs, to your hips, to your stomach, to your chest, arms,
back, neck, and head. Give love, joy, and gratitude to each
part of your body. Do this for ve minutes.
10. Ask yourself, “What is my intention for today?” Is it to be
kind, to be con dent, to be focused? Set that intention now.
11. Repeat the following to yourself 3 times each: “I am happy
about who I am becoming. I am open to all opportunities
and possibilities. I am worthy of real love. I am ready to
serve with all I have.”
 12. To nish your practice, repeat this mantra 3 times: Lokah
Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu. (See page 273.)

HOW TO KNOW IF IT’S WORKING

A novice monk went to his teacher and said, “I’m terrible at
meditating. My feet fall asleep, and I’m distracted by the outside
noises. When I’m not uncomfortable, it’s because I can barely stay
awake.”
“It will pass,” the teacher said simply, and by her expression the
novice knew that the conversation was over.
A month passed, and the novice took his teacher aside, smiling
proudly. “I think I’ve gured it out! I feel so serene—more focused
and centered than I’ve ever been. My meditation is beautiful.”
“It will pass,” the teacher replied.
There is no measure of success, no goal, and no end to a
meditation practice. Don’t look for results. Just keep doing it.
Practice consistently for four to twelve weeks, and you’ll start to
notice the e ects.
The rst sign that you’re doing it right is that you’ll miss it if
you take a break. You only miss a person when you don’t see them.
When you eat every day, you don’t think much about
nourishment and fuel, but if you don’t eat for a day, you quickly
notice the power of food. The same is true for meditation—you
have to develop a practice before you know what you’re missing.
The second e ect you’ll notice is an increased awareness of
what’s going on in your mind. If you meditate and feel tired, you’ll
understand that meditation is telling you to get more sleep.
Meditation is a signal or a mirror. If you meditate and can’t focus,
you’ll see that you’re living a distracted life and need to feel order,
balance, and simplicity. If you can’t sit with your thoughts for
fteen minutes, it’s a clear indicator of the work to be done.
 The third and most important bene t of meditation is that,
though you won’t emerge feeling calm and perfect every time,
you’ll gradually acquire a long-term mastery of self. When you
drink a green juice, it doesn’t always taste great. A nice glass of
fresh orange juice looks better and tastes better. But, long-term,
the less delightful green juice will better serve you. When you are
adept at meditation, you’ll feel a shift in your general attitude.
Your intuition will be sharper. You’ll be able to observe your life
more objectively, without being self-centered. Your expanded
perception will give you a sense of peace and purpose.

NOW AND FOREVER

Life begins with breath, breath carries you through all your days,
and life and breath end together. Monks try to be present in the
moment, but we are always conscious of now and forever. We
measure our lives not by how big or small our impact is, but by
how we make people feel. We use our time to establish how we will
live on, through giving love and care, through supporting,
communicating, creating—through the impact we have on
humanity.
How will we be remembered? What will we leave behind?
Ultimately death can be seen as the greatest re ection point—
by imagining the last moment you can re ect on everything that
leads up to it.
Among the most common regrets dying people express are:

I wish I’d expressed my love to the people I care about.

I wish I hadn’t worked so much.
I wish I’d taken more pleasure in life.
I wish I’d done more for other people.

Notice that most of these regrets address something the person

didn’t do. Monks believe we should prepare for death. We don’t
want to arrive at the end of our days knowing we haven’t lived a
purposeful, service-based, meaningful life.
Think of the topics we’ve considered in this book. In death,
you should be fully cleansed, free of what you think you’re
supposed to do, free of comparison and criticism, having faced the
root of your fear, free from material desires, living in your dharma,
having used your time well, having not given in to the mind’s
demands, free from ego, having given more than you have taken,
but then having given away all that you’ve taken, free from
entitlement, free from false connections and expectations. Imagine
how rewarding it will be to look back on a life where you have
been a teacher while remaining a student.
Re ecting on the knowledge that we will die someday compels
us to value the time we have and to spend our energy thoughtfully.
Life’s too short to live without purpose, to lose our chance to
serve, to let our dreams and aspirations die with us. Above all, I ask
you to leave people and places better and happier than you found
them.
Working on ourselves is an unending practice. Have patience.
A student went to her teacher and said, “I am committed to my
dharma. How long will it take me to attain enlightenment?”
Without missing a beat, the teacher replied, “Ten years.”
Impatient, the student persisted, “But what if I work very hard?
I will practice, ten or more hours every day if I have to. Then how
long will it take?”
This time the teacher took a moment to consider. “Twenty
years.”
The very idea that the student was looking to rush his work was
evidence that he had ten extra years to study.
As I’ve mentioned, the Sanskrit word for monk,
brahmacharya, means “student,” but it also means “right use of
energy.” It’s not like once you have the monk mindset, you’ve
 gured everything out. Instead, the monk mindset acknowledges
that the right use of energy is to remain a student. You can never
cease learning. You don’t cut your hair or mow your lawn once.
You have to keep at it. In the same way, sustaining the monk
mindset requires self-awareness, discipline, diligence, focus, and
constant practice. It is hard work, but the tools are already in your
head, heart, and hands.
You have all you need to think like a monk.

TRY THIS: TWO DEATH MEDITATIONS

To imagine your own death gives you a bird’s-eye view of your life. Try a
death meditation whenever you are questioning whether or not to do
something—to make a significant change, learn a new skill, take a trip. I
recommend that you always do a death meditation at the beginning of a
new year, to inspire new paths in the upcoming year.

1. Visualizing the inevitable will give you every lesson you need to live a
fulfilling life. Fast-forward to yourself at age eighty or ninety, however
long you want to live, and imagine yourself on your deathbed. Ask
your future self questions such as:

What do I wish I’d done?

What experiences do I wish I’d had?
What do I regret not giving more attention?
What skills do I wish I’d worked on?
What do I wish I’d detached from?

Use these answers to motivate yourself—instead of having regrets on

your deathbed, put those wishes into action today.

2. Imagine how you’d like to be remembered at your own funeral. Don’t

focus on what people thought of you, who loved you, and how sad
they will be to lose you. Instead think about the impact you’ve had.
Then imagine how you would be remembered if you died today.
What’s the gap between these two images? This too should
galvanize you to build your legacy.

To nd our way through the universe, we must start by

genuinely asking questions. You might travel to a new place or go
someplace where no one knows you. Disable your autopilot to see
yourself and the world around you with new eyes. Spot, Stop,
Swap. Train your mind to observe the forces that in uence you,
detach from illusion and false beliefs, and continually look for
what motivates you and what feels meaningful.
What would a monk do in this moment?
When you’re making a decision, when you’re having an
argument, when you’re planning your weekend, when you’re
scared or upset or angry or lost, ask this question. You’ll nd the
answer 99 percent of the time.
And eventually, when you’ve uncovered your real self, you
won’t even need to ask yourself what a monk would do. You can
simply ask, “What will I do?”
 Appendix
The Vedic Personality Test

Answer these questions as who you believe you are at the core.
Beyond what friends, family, or society have made you choose.

1. Which of the following sounds most like what you’re about?

a. Values and wisdom
b. Integrity and perfection
c. Work hard play hard
d. Stability and balance

2. What role do you play in your friends circle / family?

a. I am comfortable dealing with con ict and helping people nd
middle ground. My role is the mediator.
b. I make sure everything and everyone is taken care of. My role is
the protector.
c. I help my family understand work ethic, hustle, and the value
of having resources. My role is material support.
d. I focus on nurturing and wanting a healthy and content
family. My role is emotional support.

3. What is most important to you in a partner?

a. Honest and smart
b. Strong presence and power
c. Fun and dynamic
d. Reliable and respectful

4. What do you watch most often on TV?

a. Documentaries, biographies, human observations
b. Entertainment, politics, current a airs
c. Comedy, sport, drama, motivational stories
 d. Soap operas, reality TV, family, gossip, daytime shows

5. Which best describes how you behave when under stress?

a. Calm, composed, balanced
b. Irritated, frustrated, angry
c. Moody, loud, restless
d. Lazy, depressed, worried

6. What causes you the most pain?

a. Feeling like I don’t live up to my own expectations
b. The state of the world
c. A sense of rejection
d. Feeling disconnected from friends and family

7. What is your favorite way of working?

a. Alone, but with mentors and guides
b. In a team as a leader
c. Independently, but with a strong network
d. In a team as a member

8. How would your ideal self spend spare time?

a. Reading, in deep discussion, and re ecting
b. Learning about issues and/or attending political events
c. There’s no such thing as spare time! networking, connecting,
working
d. Enjoying time with family and friends

9. How would you describe yourself in three words?

a. Idealistic, introverted, insightful
b. Driven, dedicated, determined
c. Passionate, motivated, friendly
d. Caring, loving, loyal

10. In what type of environment do you work best?

a. Remote, silent and still, natural
b. A meeting room or gathering space
 c. Anywhere and everywhere (during my commute, in a co ee
shop, in my bedroom)
d. A space speci c to my type of work: home, o ce, laboratory

11. What’s your work style?

a. Slow and re ective
b. Focused and organized
c. Fast and rushed
d. Speci c and deliberate

12. How would you like to make a di erence in the world?

a. Through spreading knowledge
b. Through politics and activism
c. Through business and/or leadership
d. Through local community

13. How do you prepare for a vacation?

a. By picking my reading material
b. By having a focused plan of key sites to visit
c. With a list of the best bars, clubs, and restaurants
d. With an easygoing attitude

14. How do you deal with tough conversations?

a. Look for a compromise
b. Fight for the most objective truth
c. Fight to prove I’m right
d. Avoid confrontation

15. If someone in your life is having a bad week, what do you do?
a. Give them advice and guidance
b. Become protective and encourage them to improve
c. Urge them to have a drink or take a walk with me
d. Go to them and keep them company

16. How do you see rejection?

a. It’s part of life
b. It’s a challenge I can rise to meet
 c. It’s frustrating but I’ll move on
d. It’s a real setback

17. At an event/party how do you spend your time?

a. I have a meaningful discussion with one or two people
b. I usually talk with a group of people
c. I somehow end up the center of attention
d. I help with whatever needs to be done

18. How do you feel if you make a mistake?

a. I feel guilty and ashamed
b. I have to tell everyone
c. I want to hide it
d. I reach out to someone supportive

19. What do you do when you have to make a big decision?

a. I re ect privately
b. I ask my mentors and guides
c. I weigh the pros and cons
d. I talk to family and friends

20. Which best describes your daily routine?

a. It changes moment to moment
b. It’s very focused and organized
c. I follow the best opportunity that comes up
d. It’s simple and scheduled

ANSWER KEY
Tally your answers now. The most selected letter likely re ects
your varna.

A. Guide
B. Leader
C. Creator
D. Maker
 Acknowledgments

I feel truly humbled and grateful to share this timeless and

transformative wisdom with you, but I could not have done it
alone. The Bhagavad Gita was compiled, preserved, shared, and
resurrected by team e orts, and this book was no di erent. I’d like
to thank Dan Schawbel, for introducing me to my amazing agent,
James Levine, over three years ago. Jim is truly a wonderful human
and deeply believes in every project that he works on. His
direction, strategy, and friendship have made this book an
extremely joyful journey. Thank you to Trudy Green, for her
unlimited kindness, sleepless nights, and eternal dedication to this
cause. To Eamon Dolan, for his already monk mind and
unrelenting push for perfection. To Jon Karp, for believing in me
and being present throughout the process. To Hilary Liftin, for
the collaborative conversations and dynamic discussions. To Kelly
Madrone, for her undying enthusiasm and can-do attitude. To
Rula Zaabri, for making sure I never missed a deadline. To Ben
Kalin, for his relentless commitment to checking the facts. Thank
you, Christie Young, for bringing these timeless concepts to life
through the beautiful illustrations. To the Oxford Center for
Hindu Studies and speci cally Shaunaka Rishi Das for assisting in
verifying our sources and credits. Thank you to Laurie Santos for
her kindness in connecting me with research on monks by some of
the world’s leading scientists. To the whole team at Simon &
Schuster, who left no gaps in bringing my vision to life. To Oliver
Malcolm and his team at HarperCollins UK, for their enthusiasm,
dedication, and hard work from the start.
Thank you to Thomas Power, who pushed me to recognize my
potential when I didn’t believe in myself. To Ellyn Shook, for
believing in my passion and introducing my work to Arianna
Hu ngton. To Danny Shea and Dan Katz, who helped me launch
my career at HuffPost. To Karah Preiss, who was the rst person I
told about the idea for this book, in 2016, and who became my
ideation partner and greatest supporter in the US. To Savannah,
Hoda, Craig, Al, and Carson, for giving me their collective
attention on the Today show. To Ellen, for believing in me and
giving me her platform to reach her audience. To Jada Pinkett
Smith, Willow Smith, and Adrienne Ban eld-Norris, for bringing
me to the Red Table.
I’ve truly had an amazing few years, but everything you’ve seen
online has only been possible due to the people that invested in me
o ine. Thank you to His Holiness Radhanath Swami, for always
reminding me of the true meaning of life. To Gauranga Das, who
has seen it all and been there for me since Day One. To my mentor
Srutidharma Das, who always, no matter what, displays all the
qualities in this book to the highest level. To Sutapa Das, who
always encouraged me to write when I told him I just wanted to
speak. To the guides I long to meet and thank, His Holiness the
Dalai Lama and Thich Nhat Hanh. To all who have allowed me to
mentor you, in that process you have taught me so much more
than I could ever have imagined.
This book would not have existed without the Vedas, the
Bhagavad Gita, and the teachers who tirelessly spread it across the
world. Thank you to Srila Prabhupada and Ekanath Easwaran,
who have created the most widely distributed Gitas today. To all
my teachers in the ashram and across the world, many of whom
have no idea how much they’ve given me.
To my mother, who is the embodiment of sel ess service. To
my father, who let me become who I wanted to be. To my sister,
for always supporting my crazy decisions and loving me no matter
what.
And, of course, to each and every one of you who has read this
book. You were already thinking like monks, now you know it.
 Author’s Note

In this book I have drawn from the wisdom of many religions,

cultures, inspirational leaders, and scientists. In every case I have
done my very best to attribute quotes and ideas to their original
sources, and these e orts are re ected here. In some cases I have
come across wonderful quotes or ideas that I have found
attributed to multiple di erent sources, widely attributed with no
speci ed source, or attributed to ancient texts where I could not
locate the original verse. In these cases I have, with the help of a
researcher, tried to give the reader as much useful information as I
could regarding the source of the material.
 About the Author

JAY SHETTY is a storyteller, podcaster, and former monk.

Shetty’s vision is to Make Wisdom Go Viral. In 2017, he was
named in Forbes 30 Under 30 for being a game changer in the
world of media. He is on a mission to share the timeless wisdom of
the world in an accessible, relevant, and practical way. Shetty has
created more than four hundred viral videos with over 5 billion
views and hosts the #1 Health and Wellness podcast in the world,
On Purpose.
Learn more at JayShetty.me
SimonandSchuster.com
www.SimonandSchuster.com/Authors/Jay-Shetty
@simonbooks
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 Notes

INTRODUCTION
plant trees under whose shade: Paraphrase of Nelson Henderson from Wes
Henderson, Under Whose Shade: A Story of a Pioneer in the Swan River Valley of
Manitoba (Ontario, Canada: W. Henderson & Associates, 1986).
In 2002, a Tibetan monk named Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche: Daniel Goleman
and Richard J. Davidson, Altered Traits: Science Reveals How Meditation Changes
Your Mind, Brain, and Body (New York: Penguin Random House, 2017); Antoine
Lutz, Lawrence L. Greischar, Nancy B. Rawlings, Matthieu Ricard, and Richard J.
Davidson, “Long-Term Meditators Self-Induce High-Amplitude Gamma
Synchronicity During Mental Practice,” Proceedings of the National Academy of
Sciences 101, no. 46 (November 16, 2004): 16369–16373,
https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.0407401101.
scans of the forty-one-year-old monk’s brain showed fewer signs of aging than
his peers’: Goleman and Davidson, Altered Traits.
Researchers who scanned Buddhist monk Matthieu Ricard’s brain: Frankie
Taggart, “This Buddhist Monk Is the World’s Happiest Man,” Business Insider,
November 5, 2012. https://www.businessinsider.com/how-scientists- gured-out-
who-the-worlds-happiest-man-is-2012-11; Daniel Goleman and Richard J.
Davidson, Altered Traits: Science Reveals How Meditation Changes Your Mind,
Brain, and Body (New York: Penguin Random House, 2017); Antoine Lutz,
Lawrence L. Greischar, Nancy B. Rawlings, Matthieu Ricard, and Richard J.
Davidson, “Long-Term Meditators Self-Induce High-Amplitude Gamma
Synchronicity During Mental Practice,” Proceedings of the National Academy of
Sciences 101, no. 46 (November 16, 2004): 16369–16373,
https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.0407401101.
Twenty-one other monks: Taggart, “This Buddhist Monk” and Lutz et al., “Long-
Term Meditators.”
even during sleep: Fabio Ferrarelli, Richard Smith, Daniela Dentico, Brady A.
Riedner, Corinna Zennig, Ruth M. Benca, Antoine Lutz, Richard J. Davidson, and
Guilio Tononi, “Experienced Mindfulness Meditators Exhibit Higher Parietal-
Occipital EEG Gamma Activity During NREM Sleep,” PLoS One 8, no. 8 (August
28, 2013): e73417, https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0073417.
Brother David Steindl-Rast, a Benedictine monk: David Steindl-Rast, i am
through you so i: Reflections at Age 90 (New York: Paulist Press, 2017), 87.
“India’s most important gift to the world”: And general background on Vedic
times from The Bhagavad Gita, introduction and translation by Eknath Easwaran
(Tomales, CA: Nilgiri Press, 2007), 13–18.
“I owed—my friend and I owed”: Ralph Waldo Emerson, The Bhagavad-Gita:
Krishna’s Counsel in Time of War, translation, introduction, and afterword by
Barbara Stoler Miller (New York: Bantam Dell, 1986), 147.
 ONE: IDENTITY
“I am not what I think I am”: Charles Horton Cooley, Human Nature and the
Social Order (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1902), 152.
six lms since 1998: Daniel Day-Lewis lmography, IMDb, accessed November 8,
2019, https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000358/?ref_=fn_al_nm_1.
“I will admit that I went mad, totally mad”: Chris Sullivan, “How Daniel Day-
Lewis’s Notorious Role Preparation Has Yielded Another Oscar Contender,”
Independent, February 1, 2008, https://www.independent.co.uk/arts-
entertainment/ lms/features/how-daniel-day-lewis-notoriously-rigorous-role-
preparation-has-yielded-another-oscar-contender-776563.html.
the words of Chaitanya: Śrī Caitanya-caritāmṛta, Antya, 20.21.
The foundation of virtually all monastic traditions: “Social and Institutional
Purposes: Conquest of the Spiritual Forces of Evil,” Encyclopaedia Britannica,
accessed November 8, 2019,
https://www.britannica.com/topic/monasticism/Social-and-institutional-purposes.
Our inclination is to avoid silence: Timothy D. Wilson, David A. Reinhard, Erin C.
Westgate, Daniel T. Gilbert, Nicole Ellerbeck, Cheryl Hahn, Casey L. Brown, and
Adi Shaked, “Just Think: The Challenges of the Disengaged Mind,” Science 345, no.
6192 (July 4, 2014): 75–77, doi: 10.1126/science.1250830.
spend thirty-three years in bed: Gemma Curtis, “Your Life in Numbers,” Creative
Commons, accessed November 15, 2019, https://www.dreams.co.uk/sleep-matters-
club/your-life-in-numbers-infographic/.
looking at TV and social media: Ibid.
According to the Gita, these are the higher values and qualities: Verses 16.1–5
from The Bhagavad Gita, introduction and translation by Eknath Easwaran
(Tomales, CA: Nilgiri Press, 2007), 238–239.
A twenty-year study of people living in a Massachusetts town: James H. Fowler
and Nicholas A. Christakis, “Dynamic Spread of Happiness in a Large Social
Network: Longitudinal Analysis over 20 Years in the Framingham Heart Study,”
BMJ 337, no. a2338 (December 5, 2008), doi: https://doi.org/10.1136/bmj.a2338.

TWO: NEGATIVITY
As the Buddha advised: Verse 4.50 from The Dhammapada, introduction and
translation by Eknath Easwaran (Tomales, CA: Nilgiri Press, 2007), 118.
Stanford psychologists took 104 subjects: Emily M. Zitek, Alexander H. Jordan,
Benoît Monin, and Frederick R. Leach, “Victim Entitlement to Behave Sel shly,”
Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 98, no. 2 (2010): 245–255, doi:
10.1037/a0017168.
In the 1950s Solomon Asch: Eliot Aronson and Joshua Aronson, The Social Animal,
12th edition (New York: Worth Publishers, 2018).
We’re wired to conform: Zhenyu Wei, Zhiying Zhao, and Yong Zheng, “Neural
Mechanisms Underlying Social Conformity,” Frontiers in Human Neuroscience 7
(2013): 896, doi: 10.3389/fnhum.2013.00896.
even people who report feeling better after venting: Brad J. Bushman, “Does
Venting Anger Feed or Extinguish the Flame? Catharsis, Rumination, Distraction,
Anger, and Aggressive Responding,” Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin
(June 1, 2002), doi: 10.1177/0146167202289002.
Studies also show that long-term stress: Robert M. Sapolsky, “Why Stress Is Bad
for Your Brain,” Science 273, no. 5276 (August 9, 1996): 749–750, doi:
 10.1126/science.273.5276.749.
Catholic monk Father Thomas Keating said: Thomas Keating, Invitation to Love
20th Anniversary Edition: The Way of Christian Contemplation (London:
Bloomsbury Continuum, 2012).
“Letting go gives us freedom”: Thich Nhat Hanh, The Heart of the Buddha’s
Teaching: Transforming Suffering into Peace, Joy, and Liberation (New York:
Harmony, 1999).
“Don’t count the teeth”: Arthur Jeon, City Dharma: Keeping Your Cool in the Chaos
(New York: Crown Archetype, 2004), 120.
Sister Christine Vladimiro says: Hannah Ward and Jennifer Wild, eds., The
Monastic Way: Ancient Wisdom for Contemporary Living: A Book of Daily Readings
(Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2007), 183.
Competition breeds envy: William Buck, Mahabharata (Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass
Publishers, 2004), 341.
The Vaca Sutta, from early Buddhist scriptures: Thanissaro Bhikku, trans., “Vaca
Sutta: A Statement,” AccesstoInsight.org, accessed November 11, 2019,
https://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/an/an05/an05.198.than.html.
writing in a journal about upsetting events: Bridget Murray, “Writing to Heal: By
Helping People Manage and Learn from Negative Experiences, Writing Strengthens
Their Immune Systems as Well as Their Minds,” Monitor on Psychology 33, no. 6
(June 2002): 54.
the Harvard Business Review lists nine more speci c words: Susan David, “3 Ways
to Better Understand Your Emotions,” Harvard Business Review, November 10,
2016, https://hbr.org/2016/11/3-ways-to-better-understand-your-emotions.
Radhanath Swami is my spiritual teacher: Radanath Swami, interview by Jay
Shetty, #FollowTheReader with Jay Shetty, HuffPost, November 7, 2016,
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JW1Am81L0wc.
The Bhagavad Gita describes three gunas: Verse 14.5–9 from The Bhagavad Gita,
introduction and translation by Eknath Easwaran (Tomales, CA: Nilgiri Press,
2007), 224–225.
Research at Luther College: Loren L. Toussaint, Amy D. Owen, and Alyssa Cheadle,
“Forgive to Live: Forgiveness, Health, and Longevity,” Journal of Behavioral
Medicine 35, no. 4 (August 2012), 375–386. doi: 10.1007/s10865-011-9632-4.
Transformational forgiveness is linked: Kathleen A. Lawler, Jarred W. Younger,
Rachel L. Piferi, Rebecca L. Jobe, Kimberly A. Edmondson, and Warren H. Jones,
“The Unique E ects of Forgiveness on Health: An Exploration of Pathways,”
Journal of Behavioral Medicine 28, no. 2 (April 2005): 157–167, doi:
10.1007/s10865-005-3665-2.
sixty-eight married couples agreed: Peggy A. Hannon, Eli J. Finkel, Madoka
Kumashiro, and Caryl E. Rusbult, “The Soothing E ects of Forgiveness on Victims’
and Perpetrators’ Blood Pressure,” Personal Relationships 19, no. 2 (June 2012):
279–289, doi: 10.1111/j.1475-6811.2011.01356.x.
“I became a Buddhist because I hated my husband”: Pema Chödrön, “Why I
Became a Buddhist,” Sounds True, February 14, 2008,
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A4slnjvGjP4&t=117s; Pema Chödrön, “How
to Let Go and Accept Change,” interview by Oprah Winfrey, Super Soul Sunday,
Oprah Winfrey Network, October 15, 2014. https://www.youtube.com/watch?
v=SgJ1xfhJneA.
Ellen DeGeneres sees the line clearly: Anne-Marie O’Neill, “Ellen DeGeneres:
‘Making People Feel Good Is All I Ever Wanted to Do,’ ” Parade, October 27, 2011,
https://parade.com/133518/annemarieoneill/ellen-degeneres-2/.

THREE: FEAR
his commencement address at Yale University: “Tom Hanks Addresses the Yale
Class of 2011,” Yale University, May 22, 2011, https://www.youtube.com/watch?
v=baIlinqoExQ.
one of the world’s leading security experts: Gavin de Becker, The Gift of Fear (New
York: Dell, 1998).
Biosphere 2: Tara Brach, “Nourishing Heartwood: Two Pathways to Cultivating
Intimacy,” Psychology Today, August 6, 2018,
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/ nding-true-
refuge/201808/nourishing-heartwood.
Alex Honnold stunned the world: Free Solo, directed by Jimmy Chin and Elizabeth
Chai Vasarhelyi, Little Monster Films and Itinerant Films, 2018.
In the words of Śāntideva: Śāntideva, A Guide to the Bodhisattva Way of Life, trans.
Vesna A. Wallace and B. Alan Wallace (New York: Snow Lion, 1997).
deep breathing activates: Christopher Bergland, “Diaphragmatic Breathing Exercises
and Your Vagus Nerve,” Psychology Today, May 16, 2017,
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-athletes-
way/201705/diaphragmatic-breathing-exercises-and-your-vagus-nerve.
“What you run from”: Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters Remix (New York: W.
W. Norton & Company, 2018).
one of the largest producers: “Basic Information About Land ll Gas,” Land ll
Methane Outreach Program, accessed November 12, 2019,
https://www.epa.gov/lmop/basic-information-about-land ll-gas.

FOUR: INTENTION
“When there is harmony”: Some sources attribute this to commentaries on the Rig
Veda.
four fundamental motivations: Bhaktivinoda Thakura, “The Nectarean
Instructions of Lord Caitanya,” Hari kírtan, June 12, 2010,
https://kirtan.estranky.cz/clanky/philosophy–english/sri-sri-caitanya—siksamrta—
the-nectarean-instructions-of-lord—caitanya.html.
American spiritual luminary Tara Brach: Tara Brach, “Absolute Cooperation with
the Inevitable: Aligning with what is here is a way of practicing presence. It allows us
to respond to our world with creativity and compassion,” HuffPost, November 4,
2013, https://www.hu post.com/entry/happiness-tips_b_4213151.
derived from a poem by Kabir: Kabir, “ ‘Of the Musk Deer’: 15th Century Hindi
Poems,” Zócalo Poets, accessed November 11, 2019,
https://zocalopoets.com/2012/04/11/kabir-of-the-musk-deer-15th-century-hindi-
poems/.
money does not buy happiness: Daniel Kahneman and Angus Deaton, “High
Income Improves Evaluation of Life But Not Emotional Well-Being,” PNAS 107,
no. 38 (September 21, 2010): 16489–16493, doi:10.1073/pnas.1011492107.
happiness rates have consistently declined: Jean M. Twenge, “The Evidence for
Generation Me and Against Generation We,” Emerging Adulthood 1, no. 1 (March
2, 2013): 11–16, doi: 10.1177/2167696812466548/.
generally American incomes have risen since 2005: Brigid Schulte, “Why the U.S.
Rating on the World Happiness Report Is Lower Than It Should Be—And How to
Change It,” Washington Post, May 11, 2015,
https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/inspired-life/wp/2015/05/11/why-many-
americans-are-unhappy-even-when-incomes-are-rising-and-how-we-can-change-
that/.
“Money and mansions”: Some sources attribute this to commentaries on the Atharva
Veda.
“we can better handle discomfort”: Kelly McGonigal, The Upside of Stress (New
York: Avery, 2016).
researchers asked seminary students: John M. Darley and C. Daniel Batson, “From
Jerusalem to Jericho: A Study of Situational and Dispositional Variables in Helping
Behavior,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 27, no. 1 (1973): 100–108,
doi: 10.1037/h0034449.
“everything you do is your spiritual life”: Laurence Freeman, Aspects of Love: On
Retreat with Laurence Freeman (Singapore: Medio Media/Arthur James, 1997).
“we want to be good without even trying”: Benedicta Ward, ed., The Desert
Fathers: Sayings of the Early Christian Monks (New York: Penguin Classics, 2003).

MEDITATION: BREATHE
“As a sh hooked and left on the sand”: Verse 3.34 from The Dhammapada,
introduction and translation by Eknath Easwaran (Tomales, CA: Nilgiri Press,
2007), 115.
“breath is the extension of our inmost life”: Rig Veda, 1.66.1, and for discussion
Abbot George Burke, “The Hindu Tradition of Breath Meditation,”
BreathMeditation.org, accessed November 8, 2019,
https://breathmeditation.org/the-hindu-tradition-of-breath-meditation.
the Buddha described ānāpānasati: Thanissaro Bhikku, trans., “Anapanasati Sutta:
Mindfulness of Breathing,” AccesstoInsight.org, accessed November 8, 2019,
https://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/mn/mn.118.than.html.
improving cardiovascular health, lowering overall stress, and even improving
academic test performance: Tarun Sexana and Manjari Saxena, “The E ect of
Various Breathing Exercises (Pranayama) in Patients with Bronchial Asthma of Mild
to Moderate Severity,” International Journal of Yoga 2, no. 1 (January–June 2009):
22–25, doi: 10.4103/0973-6131.53838; Roopa B. Ankad, Anita Herur, Shailaja
Patil, G. V. Shashikala, and Surekharani Chinagudi, “E ect of Short-Term
Pranayama and Meditation on Cardiovascular Functions in Healthy Individuals,”
Heart Views 12, no. 2 (April–June 2011): 58–62, doi: 10.4103/1995-705X.86016;
Anant Narayan Sinha, Desh Deepak, and Vimal Singh Gusain, “Assessment of the
E ects of Pranayama/Alternate Nostril Breathing on the Parasympathetic Nervous
System in Young Adults,” Journal of Clinical & Diagnostic Research 7, no. 5 (May
2013): 821–823, doi: 10.7860/JCDR/2013/4750.2948; and Shreyashi Vaksh,
Mukesh Pandey, and Rakesh Kumar, “Study of the E ect of Pranayama on
Academic Performance of School Students of IX and XI Standard,” Scholars Journal
of Applied Medical Sciences 4, no. 5D (2016): 1703–1705.

FIVE: PURPOSE
“When you protect your dharma”: The Manusmriti, Verse 8.15.
the psychology of communication: Albert Mehrabian, Nonverbal Communication
(London: Routledge, 1972).
She rst entered the wilds of Tanzania: “About Jane,” Jane Goodall Institute,
accessed November 11, 2019, https://janegoodall.org/our-story/about-jane.
don’t hit our stride quite so early: Rich Karlgaard, Late Bloomers: The Power of
Patience in a World Obsessed with Early Achievement (New York: Currency, 2019).
Andre Agassi dropped a bombshell: Andre Agassi, Open: An Autobiography (New
York: Vintage, 2010).
“It is trust in the limits of the self ”: Joan D. Chittister, Scarred by Struggle,
Transformed by Hope (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2005).
studied hospital cleaning crews: Amy Wrzesniewski, Justin M. Berg, and Jane E.
Dutton, “Managing Yourself: Turn the Job You Have into the Job You Want,”
Harvard Business Review, June 2010, https://hbr.org/2010/06/managing-yourself-
turn-the-job-you-have-into-the-job-you-want; “Amy Wrzesniewski on Creating
Meaning in Your Own Work,” re:Work with Google, November 10, 2014,
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C_igfnctYjA.
imposed their own rigid class system: Sanjoy Chakravorty, The Truth About Us: The
Politics of Information from Manu to Modi (Hachette India, 2019).
Joseph Campbell had no model of a career: Robert Segal, “Joseph Campbell:
American Author,” Encyclopaedia Britannica, accessed November 11, 2019,
https://www.britannica.com/biography/Joseph-Campbell-American-author;
“Joseph Campbell: His Life and Contributions,” Center for Story and Symbol,
accessed November 11, 2019,
https://folkstory.com/campbell/psychology_online_joseph_campbell.html; Joseph
Campbell with Bill Moyers, The Power of Myth (New York: Anchor, 1991).
dharma protects those: The Mahabharata, Manusmriti verse 8.15.
Emma Slade, lived in Hong Kong: Emma Slade, “My Path to Becoming a
Buddhist,” TEDx Talks, February 6, 2017, https://www.youtube.com/watch?
v=QnJIjEAE41w; “Meet the British Banker Who Turned Buddhist Nun in
Bhutan,” Economic Times, August 28, 2017,
https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/international/world-news/meet-the-
british-banker-who-turned-buddhist-nun-in-bhutan/being-taken-
hostage/slideshow/60254680.cms; “Charity Work,” EmmaSlade.com, accessed
November 11, 2019, https://www.emmaslade.com/charity-work.
“Just like a red, blue, or white lotus”: The Dona Sutta, Anguttara Nikaya verse
4.36.

SIX: ROUTINE
85 percent of us need an alarm clock: Til Roenneberg, Internal Time: Chronotypes,
Social Jet Lag, and Why You’re So Tired (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press,
2012).
“a profound failure of self-respect”: Maria Popova, “10 Learnings from 10 Years of
Brain Pickings,” Brain Pickings, accessed November 11, 2019,
https://www.brainpickings.org/2016/10/23/10-years-of-brain-pickings/.
checking messages within ten minutes: RootMetrics, “Survey Insights: The
Lifestyles of Mobile Consumers,” October 24, 2018, http://rootmetrics.com/en-
US/content/rootmetrics-survey-results-are-in-mobile-consumer-lifestyles.
There are only six cars: “Fastest Cars 0 to 60 Times,” accessed November 11, 2019,
https://www.zeroto60times.com/fastest-cars-0-60-mph-times/.
Tim Cook starts his day: Lev Grossman, “Runner-Up: Tim Cook, the
Technologist,” TIME, December 19, 2012,
http://poy.time.com/2012/12/19/runner-up-tim-cook-the-technologist/; Michelle
Obama, “Oprah Talks to Michelle Obama,” interview by Oprah Winfrey, O, The
Oprah Magazine, April 2000, https://www.oprah.com/omagazine/michelle-
obamas-oprah-interview-o-magazine-cover-with-obama/all#ixzz5qYixltgS.
earlier sleep time can put you in a better mood: Jacob A. Nota and Meredith E.
Coles, “Duration and Timing of Sleep Are Associated with Repetitive Negative
Thinking,” Cognitive Therapy and Research 39, no. 2 (April 2015): 253–261, doi:
10.1007/s10608-014-9651-7.
As much as 75 percent of the HGH: M. L. Moline, T. H. Monk, D. R. Wagner, C.
P. Pollak, J. Kream, J. E. Fookson, E. D. Weitzman, and C. A. Czeisler, “Human
Growth Hormone Release Is Decreased During Sleep in Temporal Isolation (Free-
Running),” Chronobiologia 13, no. 1 (January–March 1986): 13–19.
Kevin O’Leary said that before he goes to sleep: Ali Montag, “These Are Kevin
O’Leary’s Top 3 Productivity Hacks—and Anyone Can Use Them,” CNBC, July
23, 2018, https://www.cnbc.com/2018/07/19/kevin-olearys-top-productivity-tips-
that-anyone-can-use.html.
each decision is an opportunity to stray from their path: Christopher Sommer,
“How One Decision Can Change Everything,” interview by Brian Rose, London
Real, October 2, 2018, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jgJ3xHyOzsA.
“People living in the cities and suburbs”: Hannah Ward and Jennifer Wild, eds.,
The Monastic Way: Ancient Wisdom for Contemporary Living: A Book of Daily
Readings (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2007), 75–76.
not the same as noticing it: Alan D. Castel, Michael Vendetti, and Keith J. Holyoak,
“Fire Drill: Inattentional Blindness and Amnesia for the Location of Fire
Extinguishers,” Attention, Perception, & Psychophysics 74 (2012): 1391–1396, doi:
10.3758/s13414-012-0355-3.
Kobe Bryant was onto this: Kobe Bryant, “Kobe Bryant: On How to Be Strategic &
Obsessive to Find Your Purpose,” interview by Jay Shetty, On Purpose, September 9,
2019, https://jayshetty.me/kobe-bryant-on-how-to-be-strategic-obsessive-to- nd-
your-purpose/.
“doing dishes is unpleasant”: Thich Nhat Hanh, At Home in the World: Stories and
Essential Teachings from a Monk’s Life (Berkeley, CA: Parallax Press, 2019).
“Yesterday is but a dream”: Kālidāsa, The Works of Kālidāsa, trans. Arthur W. Ryder
(CreateSpace, 2015).
2 percent of us can multitask: Garth Sundem, “This Is Your Brain on Multitasking:
Brains of Multitaskers Are Structurally Di erent Than Brains of Monotaskers,”
Psychology Today, February 24, 2012,
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/brain-trust/201202/is-your-brain-
multitasking.
erodes our ability to focus: Cal Newport, Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a
Distracted World (New York: Grand Central Publishing, 2016).
took a group of students: Eyal Ophir, Cli ord Nass, and Anthony D. Wagner,
“Cognitive Control in Media Multitaskers,” PNAS 106, no. 37 (September 15,
2009): 15583–15587, doi: 10.1073/pnas.0903620106.
We overstimulate the dopamine (reward) channel: Robert H. Lustig, The Hacking
of the American Mind: The Science Behind the Corporate Takeover of Our Bodies and
 Brains (New York: Avery, 2017).

SEVEN: THE MIND

the mind is compared to a drunken monkey: Nārāyana, Hitopadeśa (New York:
Penguin Classics, 2007).
roughly seventy thousand separate thoughts each day: “How Many Thoughts Do
We Have Per Minute?,” Reference, accessed November 12, 2019,
https://www.reference.com/world-view/many-thoughts-per-minute-
cb7fcf22ebbf8466.
about three seconds at a time: Ernst Pöppel, “Trust as Basic for the Concept of
Causality: A Biological Speculation,” presentation, accessed November 12, 2019,
http://www.paralimes.ntu.edu.sg/NewsnEvents/Causality%20-
%20Reality/Documents/Ernst%20Poppel.pdf.
“your brain is not reacting to events in the world”: Lisa Barrett, “Lisa Barrett on
How Emotions Are Made,” interview by Ginger Campbell, Brain Science with
Ginger Campbell, MD, episode 135, July 31, 2017,
https://brainsciencepodcast.com/bsp/2017/135-emotions-barrett.
our minds as monkeys: Piya Tan, “Samyutta Nikaya: The Connected Sayings of the
Buddha, Translated with Notes in the Sutta Discovery Series,” Buddhism Network,
accessed January 22, 2020, http://buddhismnetwork.com/2016/12/28/samyutta-
nikaya/.
“As irrigators lead water”: Verse 6.80 from The Dhammapada, introduction and
translation by Eknath Easwaran (Tomales, CA: Nilgiri Press, 2007), 126.
“For him who has conquered the mind”: Verse 6.6 from A. C. Bhaktivedanta
Swami Prabhupada, Bhagavad Gita As It Is (The Bhaktivedanta Book Trust
International, Inc.). https://apps.apple.com/us/app/bhagavad-gita-as-it-
is/id1080562426.
An enemy, according to the Oxford English Dictionary, is: Paperback Oxford
English Dictionary (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2012).
weight of a bad decision isn’t just metaphorical: Martin V. Day and D. Ramona
Bobocel, “The Weight of a Guilty Conscience: Subjective Body Weight as an
Embodiment of Guilt,”PLoS ONE 8, no. 7 (July 2013), doi:
10.1371/journal.pone.0069546.
what researchers call our “should-self ”: Max. H. Bazerman, Ann E. Tenbrunsel,
and Kimberly Wade-Benzoni, “Negotiating with Yourself and Losing: Making
Decisions with Competing Internal Preferences,” Academy of Management Review
23, no. 2 (April 1, 1998): 225–241, doi: 10.5465/amr.1998.533224.
in our everyday swirl of thoughts: The Dhammapada, introduction and translation
by Eknath Easwaran (Tomales, CA: Nilgiri Press, 2007), 65–66.
a chariot being driven by ve horses: Katha Upanishad, Third Valli, 3–6, from The
Upanishads, trans. Vernon Katz and Thomas Egenes (New York: Tarcher Perigee,
2015), 55–57.
Shaolin monks are a wonderful example: Elliot Figueira, “How Shaolin Monks
Develop Their Mental and Physical Mastery,” BBN, accessed November 12, 2019,
https://www.bbncommunity.com/how-shaolin-monks-develop-their-mental-and-
physical-mastery/.
secured a thermal stimulator to their wrists: Daniel Goleman and Richard J.
Davidson, Altered Traits: Science Reveals How Meditation Changes Your Mind,
Brain, and Body (New York: Penguin Random House, 2017).
decided to busk outside a DC subway station: Gene Weingarten, “Pearls Before
Breakfast: Can One of the Nation’s Great Musicians Cut Through the Fog of a D.C.
Rush Hour? Let’s Find Out,” Washington Post, April 8, 2007,
https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/magazine/pearls-before-breakfast-can-
one-of-the-nations-great-musicians-cut-through-the-fog-of-a-dc-rush-hour-lets- nd-
out/2014/09/23/8a6d46da-4331-11e4-b47c-f5889e061e5f_story.html.
asked them to locate speci c items: Gary Lupyan and Daniel Swingley, “Self-
Directed Speech A ects Visual Search Performance,” Quarterly Journal of
Experimental Psychology (June 1, 2012), doi: 10.1080/17470218.2011.647039.
“helps you clarify your thoughts”: Linda Sapadin, “Talking to Yourself: A Sign of
Sanity,” Psych Central, October 2, 2018, https://psychcentral.com/blog/talking-to-
yourself-a-sign-of-sanity/.
writing their “deepest thoughts and feelings”: James W. Pennebaker and Janel D.
Seagal, “Forming a Story: The Health Bene ts of Narrative,” Journal of Clinical
Psychology 55, no. 10 (1999): 1243–1254.
Krysta MacGray was terri ed of ying: www.krystamacgray.com and personal
interview, July 10, 2019.
“how to be present to the moment”: Richard Rohr, “Living in the Now: Practicing
Presence,” Center for Action and Comtemplation, November 24, 2017,
https://cac.org/practicing-presence-2017-11-24/.
“be here now”: Ram Dass, Be Here Now (New York: Harmony, 1978).
The Gita de nes detachment: Verses 2.48 and 12.12 from the Bhagavad Gita,
introduction and translation by Eknath Easwaran (Tomales, CA: Nilgiri Press,
2007), 94, 208.
“Detachment is not that you own nothing”: This quote is attributed to Alī Ibn Abi
Talib, the cousin and son-in-law of Muhammad, the last prophet of Islam.
fasted for 423 days: Bhavika Jain, “Jain Monk Completes 423 Days of Fasting,”
Times of India, November 1, 2015,
http://timeso ndia.indiatimes.com/articleshow/49616061.cms?
utm_source=contento nterest&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=cppst.
Japanese style of self-mummi cation: Krissy Howard, “The Japanese Monks Who
Mummi ed Themselves While Still Alive,” All That’s Interesting, October 25, 2016,
https://allthatsinteresting.com/sokushinbutsu.
ran a mile in 3:59.4 minutes: “Sir Roger Bannister: First Person to Run a Mile in
Under Four Minutes Dies at 88,” BBC, March 4, 2018,
https://www.bbc.com/sport/athletics/43273249.
“If you ruminate on sadness and negativity”: Matthieu Ricard, interview by Jay
Shetty, #FollowTheReader with Jay Shetty, HuffPost, October 10, 2016,
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_HZznrniwL8&feature=youtu.be.
Cultivate buddhi: Jayaram V, “The Seven Fundamental Teachings of the Bhagavad-
Gita,” Hinduwebsite.com, accessed January 22, 2020,
https://www.hinduwebsite.com/seventeachings.asp.

EIGHT: EGO
They are forever free: Verse 2.71 from the Bhagavad Gita, introduction and
translation by Eknath Easwaran (Tomales, CA: Nilgri Press, 2007), 97.
distinction between the ego and the false ego: Verses 7.4 and 16.18 from The
Bhagavad Gita, introduction and translation by Eknath Easwaran (Tomales, CA:
Nilgiri Press, 2007), 152, 240.
“Pride of wealth destroys wealth”: Some sources attribute this to commentaries on
the Sama Veda.
“the most damaging fall for the soul”: Dennis Okholm, Dangerous Passions, Deadly
Sins: Learning from the Psychology of Ancient Monks (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos
Press, 2014), 161.
“Perfect yogis are they who”: Verse 6.32 from A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami
Prabhupada, Bhagavad Gita As It Is (The Bhaktivedanta Book Trust International,
Inc.), https://apps.apple.com/us/app/bhagavad-gita-as-it-is/id1080562426.
In her popular TED Talk: Julia Galef, “Why You Think You’re Right Even If You’re
Wrong,” TEDx PSU, February 2016,
https://www.ted.com/talks/julia_galef_why_you_think_you_re_right_even_if_you
_re_wrong/transcript#t-68800.
cofounder of Net ix, o ered to sell: Ken Auletta, “Outside the Box: Net ix and the
Future of Television,” New Yorker, January 26, 2014,
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2014/02/03/outside-the-box-2; Paul R.
LaMonica, “Net ix Joins the Exclusive $100 Billion Club,” CNN, July 23, 2018,
https://money.cnn.com/2018/01/23/investing/net ix-100-billion-market-
value/index.html.
who had come to inquire about Zen: Osho, A Bird on the Wing: Zen Anecdotes for
Everyday Life (India: Osho Media International, 2013).
“Remember you are a man”: Mary Beard, The Roman Triumph (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 2009).
In an interview, Robert Downey Jr.: Robert Downey Jr., interview, Cambridge
Union, December 19, 2014, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rmpysp5mWlg.
he is like a re y: Srimad-Bhagavatam, The Summum Bonum, 14.9-10.
Mary Johnson’s son, Laramiun Byrd: Steve Hartman, “Love Thy Neighbor: Son’s
Killer Moves in Next Door,” CBS News, June 8, 2011,
https://www.cbsnews.com/news/love-thy-neighbor-sons-killer-moves-next-door/;
“Woman Shows Incredible Mercy as Her Son’s Killer Moves In Next Door,” Daily
Mail, June 8, 2011, https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2000704/Woman-
shows-incredible-mercy-sons-killer-moves-door.html; “Mary Johnson and Oshea
Israel,” The Forgiveness Project, accessed November 12, 2019,
https://www.theforgivenessproject.com/stories/mary-johnson-oshea-israel/.
“What belongs to you today”: Kamlesh J. Wadher, Nature’s Science and Secrets of
Success (India: Educreation Publishing, 2016); Verse 2.14 from the Bhagavad Gita,
introduction and translation by Eknath Easwaran (Tomales, CA: Nilgiri Press,
2007), 90.
“Being literally undone by failure”: Thomas Moore, Care of the Soul: A Guide for
Cultivating Depth and Sacredness in Everyday Life (New York: Harper Perennial,
1992), 197.
Sara Blakely wanted to go to law school: Sarah Lewis, The Rise: Creativity, the Gift
of Failure, and the Search for Mastery (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2014), 111;
“Spanx Startup Story,” Fundable, accessed November 12, 2019,
https://www.fundable.com/learn/startup-stories/spanx.
Olympic swimming gold medalist: “Goal Setting Activities of Olympic Athletes
(And What They Can Teach the Rest of Us),” Develop Good Habits, September 30,
2019, https://www.developgoodhabits.com/goal-setting-activities/.
a children’s rights activist: Rajesh Viswanathan, “Children Should Become Their
Own Voices,” ParentCircle, accessed November 12, 2019,
https://www.parentcircle.com/article/children-should-become-their-own-voices/.

MEDITATION: VISUALIZE
people who imagined contracting a muscle: Vinoth K. Ranganathan, Vlodek
Siemionow, Jing Z. Liu, Vinod Sahgal, and Guang H. Yue, “From Mental Power to
Muscle Power—Gaining Strength by Using the Mind,” Neuropsychologia 42, no. 7
(2004): 944–956, doi: 10.1016/j.neuropsychologia.2003.11.018.

NINE: GRATITUDE
de nes gratitude as the feeling of appreciation: “What Is Gratitude?” A Network
for Grateful Living, accessed November 12, 2019,
https://gratefulness.org/resource/what-is-gratitude/.
keep journals during the day: Robert A. Emmons and Michael E. McCullough,
“Counting Blessings Versus Burdens: An Experimental Investigation of Gratitude
and Subjective Well-Being in Daily Life,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology
84, no. 2 (2003): 377–389, doi: 10.1037/0022-3514.84.2.377.
we truly can’t focus on positive and negative: Alex Korb, “The Grateful Brain: The
Neuroscience of Giving Thanks,” Psychology Today, November 20, 2012,
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/prefrontal-nudity/201211/the-
grateful-brain.
veterans with high levels of gratitude: Todd B. Kashdan, Gitendra Uswatte, and
Terri Julian, “Gratitude and Hedonic and Eudaimonic Well-Being in Vietnam War
Veterans,” Behaviour Research and Therapy 44, no. 2 (February 2006): 177–199,
doi: 10.1016/j.brat.2005.01.005.
“If [thankfulness] were a drug”: Mikaela Conley, “Thankfulness Linked to Positive
Changes in Brain and Body,” ABC News, November 23, 2011,
https://abcnews.go.com/Health/science-thankfulness/story?id=15008148.
“Monks. You should train yourselves”: Samyutta Nikaya, Sutta Pitaka, 20.21.
In one ritual observance: Joanna Macy, World as Lover, World as Self: Courage for
Global Justice and Ecological Renewal (Berkeley, CA: Parallax Press, 2007), 78–83.
“the mind of poverty”: Roshi Joan Halifax, “Practicing Gratefulness by Roshi Joan
Halifax,” Upaya Institute and Zen Center, October 18, 2017,
https://www.upaya.org/2017/10/practicing-gratefulness-by-roshi-joan-halifax/.
Brian Acton exempli es: Bill Murphy Jr., “Facebook and Twitter Turned Him
Down. Now He’s Worth $4 Billion,” Inc., accessed November 13, 2019,
https://www.inc.com/bill-murphy-jr/facebook-and-twitter-turned-him-down-now-
hes-worth-4-billion.html; Brian Acton (@brianacton), Twitter post, May 23, 2009,
https://twitter.com/brianacton/status/1895942068; Brian Acton (@brianacton),
Twitter post, August 3, 2009, https://twitter.com/brianacton/status/3109544383.
“When one door of happiness closes”: “Helen Keller,” Biography, accessed
November 13, 2019, https://www.biography.com/activist/helen-keller; Helen
Keller, We Bereaved (New York: L. Fulenwider, 1929).
“People usually think that gratitude”: Rob Sidon, “The Gospel of Gratitude
According to David Steindl-Rast,” Common Ground, November 2017, 42–49,
http://onlinedigitaleditions2.com/commonground/archive/web-11-2017/.
“Be kinder to yourself ”: Pema Chödrön, Practicing Peace in Times of War (Boston:
Shambhala, 2007).
whether kindness is contagious: James H. Fowler and Nicholas A. Christakis,
“Cooperative Behavior Cascades in Human Social Networks,” Proceedings of the
National Academy of Sciences, 107, no. 12 (March 23, 2010): 5334–5338, doi:
10.1073/pnas.0913149107.
people on the Chicago commuter: Nicholas Epley and Juliana Schroeder,
“Mistakenly Seeking Solitude,” Journal of Experimental Psychology: General 143, no.
5 (October 2014): 1980–1999, doi: 10.1037/a0037323.
volunteering can result in lower feelings of depression: Caroline E. Jenkinson,
Andy P. Dickens, Kerry Jones, Jo Thompson-Coon, Rod S. Taylor, Morwenna
Rogers, Clare L. Bambra, Iain Lang, and Suzanne H. Richards, “Is Volunteering a
Public Health Intervention? A Systematic Review and Meta-Analysis of the Health
and Survival of Volunteers,” BMG Public Health 13, no. 773 (August 23, 2013), doi:
10.1186/1471-2458-13-773.

TEN: RELATIONSHIPS
“Every person”: Thich Nhat Hanh, How to Love (Berkeley, CA: Parallax Press, 2014).
longevity was tied to several aspects of community: Dan Buettner, “Power 9:
Reverse Engineering Longevity,” Blue Zones, accessed November 13, 2019,
https://www.bluezones.com/2016/11/power-9/.
a eld study of military leadership in Iraq: Michael D. Matthews, “The 3 C’s of
Trust: The Core Elements of Trust Are Competence, Character, and Caring,”
Psychology Today, May 3, 2016, https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/head-
strong/201605/the-3-c-s-trust.
“The golden way is to be friends with the world”: K. S. Baharati, Encyclopaedia of
Gandhian Thought (India: Anmol Publications, 2006).
“People come into your life”: Jean Dominique Martin, “People Come Into Your Life
for a Reason, a Season, or a Lifetime,” accessed November 14, 2019,
http://youmeandspirit.blogspot.com/2009/08/ebb-and- ow.html.
couples get stuck in ongoing con ict: John Gottman, “John Gottman on Trust and
Betrayal,” Greater Good Magazine, October 29, 2011,
https://greatergood.berkeley.edu/article/item/john_gottman_on_trust_and_betray
al.
people are dishonest: Bella M. DePaulo, Deborah A. Kashy, Susan E. Kirkendol,
Melissa M. Wyer, and Jennifer A. Epstein, “Lying in Everyday Life,” Journal of
Personality and Social Psychology 70, no. 5 (June 1996): 979–995, doi:
10.1037/0022-3514.70.5.979.
we lie to impress: Bella DePaolo, The Lies We Tell and the Clues We Miss: Professional
Papers (CreateSpace, 2009).
trust people we nd attractive: Dawn Dorsey, “Rice Study Suggests People Are
More Trusting of Attractive Strangers,” Rice University, September 21, 2006,
https://news.rice.edu/2006/09/21/rice-study-suggests-people-are-more-trusting-of-
attractive-strangers/.
“We found that attractive subjects gain a ‘beauty premium’ ”: Dawn Dorsey,
“Rice Study Suggests People Are More Trusting of Attractive Strangers,” Rice News,
September 21, 2006, http://news.rice.edu/2006/09/21/rice-study-suggests-people-
are-more-trusting-of-attractive-strangers/.
a blank piece of paper: Don Meyer, “Fox-Hole Test,” CoachMeyer.com, accessed
November 13, 2019,
 https://www.coachmeyer.com/Information/Players_Corner/Fox%20Hole%20Test.
pdf.
“Celibacy by conscious choice”: www.malamadrone.com and personal interview,
September 7, 2019.
“two sides of man’s being alone”: Paul Tillich, The Eternal Now (New York:
Scribner, 1963).
the impact of mothers’ time: Melissa A. Milke, Kei M. Nomaguchi, and Kathleen E.
Denny, “Does the Amount of Time Mothers Spend with Children or Adolescents
Matter?” Journal of Marriage and Family 77, no. 2 (April 2015): 355–372, doi:
10.1111/jomf.12170.
six loving exchanges: Sri Upadesamrta: The Ambrosial Advice of Sri Rupa Gosvami
(India: Gaudiya Vedanta Publications, 2003),
https://archive.org/details/upadesamrta/page/n1.
Harvard Grant Study: Joshua Wolf Shenk, “What Makes Us Happy? Is There a
Formula—Some Mix of Love, Work, and Psychological Adaptation—for a Good
Life?” Atlantic, June 2009,
https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2009/06/what-makes-us-
happy/307439/.
“we get crushes on others”: Thich Nhat Hanh, How to Love (Berkeley, CA: Parallax
Press, 2014).
According to Massive Attack: Massive Attack, “Teardrop,” Mezzanine,
Circa/Virgin, April 27, 1998; Dan in Real Life, directed by Peter Hedges,
Touchstone Pictures, Focus Features, and Jon Shestack Productions, 2007.
“until you heal the wounds of your past”: IyanlaVanzant, “How to Heal the
Wounds of Your Past,” Oprah’s Life Class, October 11, 2011,
http://www.oprah.com/oprahs-lifeclass/iyanla-vanzant-how-to-heal-the-wounds-of-
your-past.
couples strengthen their bonds: Arthur Aron, Christina C. Norman, Elaine N.
Aron, Colin McKenna, and Richard E. Heyman, “Couples’ Shared Participation in
Novel and Arousing Activities and Experienced Relationship Quality,” Journal of
Personality and Social Psychology 78, no. 2 (2000): 273–84, doi: 10.1037//0022-
3514.78.2.273.
we often mistake attachment for love: Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo, “The Di erence
Between Genuine Love and Attachment,” accessed November 13, 2019,
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6kUoTS3Yo4g.
followed incoming college freshmen: Sanjay Srivastava, Maya Tamir, Kelly M.
McGonigal, Oliver P. John, and James J. Gross, “The Social Costs of Emotional
Suppression: A Prospective Study of the Transition to College,” Journal of
Personality and Social Psychology 96, no. 4 (August 22, 2014): 883–897, doi:
10.1037/a0014755.

ELEVEN: SERVICE
“The ignorant work for their own pro t”: Verse 3.25 from The Bhagavad Gita,
introduction and translation by Eknath Easwaran (Tomales, CA: Nilgiri Press,
2007), 107.
“we are on a journey”: Hannah Ward and Jennifer Wild, eds., The Monastic Way:
Ancient Wisdom for Contemporary Living: A Book of Daily Readings (Grand
Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2007), 183.
“The monk may think”: Hannah Ward and Jennifer Wild, eds., The Monastic Way:
Ancient Wisdom for Contemporary Living: A Book of Daily Readings (Grand
Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2007), 190.
“Look at these fortunate trees”: Srimad-Bhagavatam, The Summum Bonum, 22.32.
The sixteenth-century guru Rupa Goswami talks about yukta-vairāgya: Verse
1.2.255 from Srila Rupa Goswami, Bhakti Rasamrta Sindhu (In Two Volumes):
With the Commentary of Srila Jiva Gosvami and Visvanatha Cakravarti Thakur
(The Bhaktivedanta Book Trust, Inc, 2009).
“No one is born hating”: Nelson Mandela, Long Walk to Freedom: The
Autobiography of Nelson Mandela (Boston: Back Bay Books, 1995).
one we often overlook: Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces (Novato,
CA: New World Library, 2008).
Seane Corn is living out the hero’s journey: Seane Corn, “Yoga, Meditation in
Action,” interview by Krista Tippett, On Being, September 11, 2008,
https://onbeing.org/programs/seane-corn-yoga-meditation-in-action/.
when we pursue “compassionate goals”: M. Teresa Granillo, Jennifer Crocker,
James L. Abelson, Hannah E. Reas, and Christina M. Quach, “Compassionate and
Self-Image Goals as Interpersonal Maintenance Factors in Clinical Depression and
Anxiety,” Journal of Clinical Psychology 74, no. 4 (September 12, 2017): 608–625,
doi: 10.1002/jclp.22524.
tend to live longer: Stephen G. Post, “Altruism, Happiness, and Health: It’s Good to
Be Good,” International Journal of Behavioral Medicine 12, no. 2 (June 2005): 66–
77, doi: 10.1207/s15327558ijbm1202_4.
“giving simply because it is right to give”: Verse 17.20 from The Bhagavad Gita,
introduction and translation by Eknath Easwaran (Tomales, CA: Nilgiri Press,
2007), 248.
Sindhutai Sapkal was married at twelve: “About Sindhutai Sapkal (Mai)/Mother of
Orphans,” accessed November 13, 2019, https://www.sindhutaisapakal.org/about-
Sindhutail-Sapkal.html.
people were given $10: Paul K. Pi , Michael W. Krauss, Stéphane Côté, Bonnie
Hayden Cheng, and Dacher Keltner, “Having Less, Giving More: The In uence of
Social Class on Prosocial Behavior,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 99,
no. 5 (November 2010): 771–784, doi: 10.1037/a0020092.
survey of charitable giving: Ken Stern, “Why the Rich Don’t Give to Charity: The
Wealthiest Americans Donate 1.3 Percent of Their Income; The Poorest, 3.2
Percent. What’s Up with That?” The Atlantic, April 2013,
https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2013/04/why-the-rich-dont-
give/309254/.
over 70 percent of charitable contributions: Kate Rogers, “Poor, Middle Class and
Rich: Who Gives and Who Doesn’t?” FOXBusiness, April 24,2013,
https://www.foxbusiness.com/features/poor-middle-class-and-rich-who-gives-and-
who-doesnt.
Why those with less give more: Daniel Goleman, Focus: The Hidden Driver of
Excellence (New York: HarperCollins, 2013), 123.
Some philanthropists: Kathleen Elkins, “From Poverty to a $3 Billion Fortune: The
Incredible Rags-to-Riches Story of Oprah Winfrey,” Business Insider, May 28, 2015,
https://www.businessinsider.com/rags-to-riches-story-of-oprah-winfrey-2015-5.
Kailash Satyarthi has taken on: Ryan Prior, “Kailash Satyarthi Plans to End Child
Labor In His Lifetime,” CNN, March 13, 2019,
https://www.cnn.com/2019/02/19/world/kailash-satyarthi-child-labor/index.html.
“You don’t need to do everything”: Joanna Macy, World as Lover, World as Self:
Courage for Global Justice and Ecological Renewal (Berkeley, CA: Parallax Press,
2007), 77.

MEDITATION: CHANT
the why and how of chanting: Agni Purana 3.293 and Vayu Purana 59.141.
Recognizing the value of sound: “Tesla’s Vibrational Medicine,” Tesla’s Medicine,
accessed November 12, 2019, https://teslasmedicine.com/teslas-vibrational-
medicine/; Jennifer Tarnacki, “This Is Your Brain on Drumming: The Neuroscience
Behind the Beat,” Medium, September 25, 2019, https://medium.com/indian-
thoughts/this-is-your-brain-on-drumming-8ed6eaf314c4.
anything that inspires you can work: Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet
(New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1993); “29 Inspiring Herb Brooks Quotes
to Motivate You,” Sponge Coach, September 13, 2017,
http://www.spongecoach.com/inspiring-herb-brooks-quotes/; Jay-Z, “Dirt O
Your Shoulder,” The Black Album, Roc-A-Fella and Def Jam, March 2, 2004; Bad
Boys II, directed by Michael Bay, Don Simpson/Jerry Bruckheimer Films, 2003.
most sacred mantra is Om: “Why Do We Chant Om?” Temples in India Info,
accessed November 12, 2019, https://templesinindiainfo.com/why-do-we-chant-
om/; “Om,” Encyclopedia Britannica, accessed November 12, 2019,
https://www.britannica.com/topic/Om-Indian-religion.
Vagus nerve stimulation: Bangalore G. Kalyani, Ganesan Venkatasubramanian,
Rashmi Arasappa, Naren P. Rao, Sunil V. Kalmady, Rishikesh V. Behere, Hariprasad
Rao, Mandapati K. Vasudev, and Bangalore N. Gangadhar, “Neurohemodynamic
Correlates of ‘OM’ Chanting: A Pilot Functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging
Study,” International Journal of Yoga 4, no. 1 (January–June 2011): 3–6, doi:
10.4103/0973-6131.78171; C. R. Conway, A. Kumar, W. Xiong, M. Bunker, S. T.
Aronson, and A. J. Rush, “Chronic Vagus Nerve Stimulation Signi cantly Improves
Quality of Life in Treatment Resistant Major Depression,” Journal of Clinical
Psychiatry 79, no. 5 (August 21, 2018), doi: 10.4088/JCP.18m12178.
Om Tat Sat: Verse 17.23 from The Bhagavad Gita, introduction and translation by
Eknath Easwaran (Tomales, CA: Nilgiri Press, 2007), 249.

CONCLUSION
Among the most common regrets: Grace Bluerock, “The 9 Most Common Regrets
People Have at the End of Life,” mindbodygreen, accessed on November 13, 2019,
https://www.mindbodygreen.com/0-23024/the-9-most-common-regrets-people-
have-at-the-end-of-life.html.
 Next Steps

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 Index

A note about the index: The pages referenced in this index refer to the page numbers in the print edition. Clicking on a page number will
take you to the ebook location that corresponds to the beginning of that page in the print edition. For a comprehensive list of locations of any
word or phrase, use your reading system’s search function.

Abagnale, Frank, Jr., 176, 179, 181

Accenture, 104, 107, 227
achieving, 158
activity journal, 116
Acton, Brian, 212
adult mind, 149, 150
advisors, 192–94
a rmations, 271
Agassi, Andre, 99–100
Agni Purana, 270
alcohol use, 169–70
Ali (Ali ibn Abi Talib), 165
alive, dharma and, 118–19
ananda (bliss), 118
anapanasati, 86
anartha, 32
anartha-nivritti, 32
Andre Agassi Foundation, 100
anger, amending, 38–39
Annamrita, xiv, 260, 264, 269
anxiety, 46, 47, 126, 161, 163, 238, 259, 264
anticipatory, 152
Arjuna, 46, 47, 62
Aron, Arthur, 249
Asch, Solomon, 24
Aspects of Love (Freeman), 77
At Home in the World (Thich Nhat Hanh), 135
Atharva Veda, 70–71
attachment, 55, 64, 164–65, 169–70, 251
auditing, 57
attention, battle for, 241
and presence, 240–41
attraction, connection versus, 239
avoidance, 62

Bad Boys II (movie), 271

Bannister, Roger, 168
Barrett, Lisa Feldman, 147
Barringham, Neil, 35
Bell, Joshua, 155
betrayal, 232, 233
Bezos, Je , 69, 127
Bhagavad Gita (“Song of God”), xiv, 3, 15, 35, 39, 46, 47, 62, 96, 99, 108, 148, 164–65, 172, 173, 177, 187, 254, 257, 260, 264, 269, 273
Bhaktivedanta Manor, 10–11, 25
Bhaktivinoda Thakura, 66
Biosphere 2, 50, 223
Blakely, Sara, 189
Blockbuster, 180
Blue Zones, 222–23
Bluest Eye, The (Morrison), 99
BMC Public Health, 219
body scan, 200
Brach, Tara, 68
Brahma, Lord, 183–84
brahmacharya (monk), 237, 280
Brahmins, 177
branch fears, 49, 54
Branson, Richard, 127
Brave, Not Perfect (Saujani), 271
breathwork, xvii–xviii, 35, 59–60, 83, 84, 86–89, 276–77
Brooks, Herb, 271
Bryant, Kobe, 133
buddhi, 172
Buddha, 21, 46, 85–86, 122, 147, 149, 215
Buddhism, 35
Buettner, Dan, 222–23
Bu ett, Warren, 174
Byrd, Laramiun, 185

call-and-response chanting, 272

Campbell, Joseph, 117–18, 258
cancellers, 26
casualties, 26
“Cancers of the Mind: Comparing, Complaining, Criticizing” (Gauranga Das), 20–21
Capes for Kids, 219
Care of the Soul (Moore), 188
caring
expanding circle of, 261–62
trust and, 226–29
Carrey, Jim, 68
caste system, 109, 177
Catch Me If You Can (Abagnale), 176
celibacy, 222, 236–38
cell phones, 125–26, 127, 241, 244
Center for Sustainable Development, 70
Chaitanya, 8
Chance the Rapper, 99
chanting, xviii, 250, 271–73, 276
character, trust and, 226–29
charioteer analogy, 151, 153, 171
Cherokee Indians, 147
child labor, 267–68
chit (consciousness), 118
Chittister, Sister Joan, 100, 132
Chödrön, Pema, 44, 152, 205, 215
circle of love, 223–25, 231
Cleveland Clinic, 198
clothing, 11, 125, 129–31
comfort, dharma and, 119
commanders, 26–28
communication, psychology of, 96
companion audit, 19
comparing, 36, 38
compassion, 37, 229, 246
network of, 225
service and, 259–61, 266–68
compassionate goals, 259
competence, trust and, 225–26, 228, 229
competition, 31, 38
competitors, 26, 27
complainers, 26, 28
complaining, 24–26, 32, 36–38
conditional forgiveness, 40
con dence, 190–92
connection, 245
attraction versus, 239
consistency
dharma and, 119
trust and, 226–29
contemplative single-tasking, 143
contractual trust, 233–36
controllers, 26, 27
conversation, as loving exchange, 242
Cook, Tim, 127
Cooley, Charles Horton, 3, 5
Corn, Seane, 258–59
cortisol, 26
creativity, routine and, 133, 144
creators, 109–12, 114, 287
criticism, 20–21, 36, 193
critics, 26, 27
cultural norms, 6

Dalai Lama, 29, 32, 123, 176, 246

Dan in Real Life (movie), 246
Dass, Ram, 163
dating, 237, 238, 247–48, 252–53
Day-Lewis, Daniel, 4
daydreaming, 137
death, 279–81
de Becker, Gavin, 49
DeGeneres, Ellen, 44–45
DePaulo, Bella, 232–33
depression, 259, 264, 272
Desert Fathers, 79, 81
desire, as motivation, 67–73
detachment, 28, 55, 56, 58, 64, 164–67, 169–71, 282
from ego, 187–88
gratitude and, 187–88
Devlukia, Radhi, 246–49
Dhammapada, 86, 147, 149
dharma, 154
align with passion, 102–6
of body, 118–19
de nition of, 94
discovering, 95–98, 98–99
embracing, 117–18
other people’s, 99–102
responsibility and, 119–20
service within, 265
stretching, 120–22
test-drive, 115–17
varnas, 109–15
diaphragmatic breathing, 88
DiCaprio, Leonardo, 105
diet, 134–35, 170–71
discretionary spending, 14–15
discrimination, 176
distraction, 137
ltering out, 7, 8, 10–12, 19, 79
dopamine, 143, 207
Doraiswamy, Murali, 207–8
double-edged ego, 181–83
Downey, Robert, Jr., 181
duty, as motivation, 67, 70–73

Easwaran, Eknath, xiv, 149

eating habits, 134
education, 9
ego, 168, 172–96
awareness of, 186–87
building con dence and, 190–92
detaching from, 187–88
double-edged, 181–83
false, 173, 176
false hierarchies and, 176–78
feedback and, 192–94
humility and, 183–86, 188, 190, 195, 196
institutional, 180
isolation and, 181
judgment and, 178–79
lying and, 175–76, 233
as mask, 174–75
as obstacle to growth, 179
stepping outside of failure, 188–90
Einstein, Albert, xv, 155
El Capitan, 50
Emerson, Ralph Waldo, xiv
emotional attraction, 239–41
emotional needs, core, 22–23
emotional pain, 153
empathy, 37
energy levels, relationships and, 240
entitlement, sense of, 23
environmental awareness, 137–39
envy, 31, 75
reversing, 38
Ericsson, Anders, 102
escape rooms game, 249
Etsy, 107
Evagrius Ponticus (Evagrius the Solitary), 174
exercise, 128
expanding the moment, 61
expectations, setting, 222–23
expertise, 97–98
exploratory visualization, 199

Facebook, 18, 98, 212

failure, stepping outside of, 188–90
false ego, 173, 176
false hierarchies, 176–78
fasting, 166–68
fear, 46–64
acceptance of, 52–53
attachment and detachment, 55–57, 64
diving into, 63
fear of, 49–50
managing short-term, 57–59
meditation, 47–49
as motivation, 66, 67, 71, 73
negativity and, 23, 45
patterns, 53–54
rating, 53
revisiting long-term, 61–64
short-circuiting, 59–60
stress response, 51
working with, 52
feedback, 192–94
ght- ight-freeze state, 60
ow, dharma and, 119
food, as loving exchange, 241–45
forgiveness, 38–39, 185–86, 229
asking and receiving exercise, 42
gratitude after, 220
peace of mind and, 41
self-, 43–44
transformational, 39–41
as two-way street, 43
Francis of Assisi, Saint, 96
Free Solo (documentary), 50
freedom, 29, 32, 35, 55
Freeman, Laurence, 77
Freerider, 50
Freud, Sigmund, 117
friendships (see also relationships)
labeling, 231
lifetime people, 230–31
From Death to Life support group, 185
“From Jerusalem to Jericho” experiment, 76–77
future, thoughts of, 163–64

Galef, Julia, 179

gamma wave levels, xi
Gandhi, Mahatma, 230
Ganges river, 262
Gangs of New York (movie), 4
Gates, Bill, 174
Gauranga Das, x, xiii, xv, 7, 16, 27, 30, 47, 48, 85, 256
Genius Coaching Community, 313
Gide, André, 196
Gift of Fear, The (de Becker), 49
gifts, 241–43
Golden Rule, 162–63
Good Samaritan, parable of, 76–77
Goodall, Jane, 96
gossip, 20–22, 38
Goswami, Rupa, 257
Gottman, John, 232
Govardhan Ecovillage, xiv, 65
grades, 100
Graham, Dom Aelred, 256–57
gratefulness.org, xii
gratitude, 205–21, 229, 235, 270
after forgiveness, 220
bene ts of, 206, 207
de ned, 205
detachment and, 187–88
everyday, 208–11
expressing, 214
in hindsight, 213
journal, 206
kindness and, 215–16, 221
letter, 219–20
meal gratitude practice, 210
meditations, 210, 211, 277
mind and, 207–8
morning gratitude practice, 210
practice of, 211–14
profound, 219–20
service and, 217–19, 259
visualization, 128, 217
Greenwood, Will, 104
groupthink bias, 24
growth, dharma and, 119
guides, 109–10, 112–14, 116, 287
gunas, 110
Gundicha Temple, Puri, 85
gurus, 192–93

Hadid, Bella, 99
Halifax, Roshi Joan, 211–12
Hanks, Tom, 46–47
happiness, 65, 68–70, 74, 82, 248, 261, 277
three routes to, 158
Hardy, Jessica, 191
Harvard Business Review, 36
Harvard Grant Study, 245
Harvard University, 11, 215
Hastings, Reed, 180
Headspace, xii
Heart of Buddha’s Teaching, The (Thich Nhat Hanh), 29
heartbreak, overcoming, 250–53
Hero with a Thousand Faces, The (Campbell), 118
higher values, 15–16
Hinduism, xiv
hippocampus, 25–26
Hitopadesa, 146
honesty, 232
Honnold, Alex, 50
How Emotions Are Made (Barrett), 147
How to Love (Thich Nhat Hanh), 246
Hu ngton, Arianna, 125
human growth hormone (HGH), 129
humility, ego and, 183–86, 188, 190, 195, 196
Hunter, Pastor Joel, 177

identity, 3–19
Ikeda, Daisaku, 20
immersive experiences, 142–44
immune system, 26
income, life satisfaction and, 69, 70
insight, 128
Insight Meditation Community, Washington DC, 68
institutional ego, 180
intellect, 151, 153, 154, 167, 169, 172
intellectual attraction, 239
intention, 65–83
service within, 264–65
interdependent partnership, 226–27
internal changes, 76, 79
Invisible Monsters Remix (Palahniuk), 63
Israel, Oshea, 185–86

Jay Shetty Certi cation School, 314

Jay-Z, 271
Jivamukti yoga, 273
job crafting, 106
Jobs, Steve, 99, 125
Johnson, Mary, 185–86
Jordan, Michael, 102
Journey Home, The (Radhanath Swami), 37
joy visualization, 211, 277
Judging a Book by Its Cover: Beauty and Expectations in the Trust Game (Wilson), 234
judgment, 178–79
Jung, Carl, 117

Kabir, 69
Kailash Satyarthi Children’s Foundation of America, 269
Kalidasa, 136
kapalabhati, 89
Karate Kid, The (movie), 276
Karlgaard, Rich, 99
karma, 224–25
Katha Upanishad, 145
Kaveri river, 262
Keating, Father Thomas, 28
Keller, Helen, 212–13, 255
Keltner, Dacher, 263
kheer (pudding), 260
kindness
gratitude and, 215–16, 221
of strangers, 216–17
King, Martin Luther, Jr., 77
kirtan, 272
kitchari (porridge), 260
Kondo, Marie, 165
Korb, Alex, 207
Krishna, 47, 183–84
ksama (forgiveness), 38

labeling, 228, 231

Late Bloomers (Karlgaard), 99
leaders, 109, 110, 113–14, 116, 287
learning, 158–59
Lee, Bruce, 195
letting go, 8, 16, 29, 32, 45, 93, 95
lifetime people, 230–31
LinkedIn, 18
listening, 241–44
location, 132–33, 137–39
Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu, 273, 278
loneliness, 238, 265
Long Walk to Freedom (Mandela), 258
longevity, 223
Looking-Glass Self, 5
love, as motivation, 67, 70–73
“Love Has No Labels” campaign, 177
lower values, 15, 16
Luther College, 40
lying behavior, 175–76, 232–33

MacGray, Krysta, 160–61

Macy, Joanna, 268
Madrone, Mala, 238
Mahabharata, 31, 46, 47
Mahasatipatthana Sutta, 86
makers, 109–12, 114–16, 287
Mandela, Nelson, 258
mantras, 198
de ned, 271
examples of, 273
Manusmriti, 93, 120
Martin, Jean Dominique, 230
Massive Attack, 246
material attraction, 239
material goals, 67–68, 73
Mateschitz, Dietrich, 99
maya (illusion), 68
McCartney, Stella, 82
McGonigal, Kelly, 71
meal gratitude practice, 210
meaning, 70–71, 74, 82, 83, 106
media, 10, 11, 13, 69–70, 252
meditation, x–xi, xv, xviii–xix, 84–85, 169, 170, 250 (see also breathwork; mantras; visualization)
bene ts of, 278–79
breathwork, xvii–xviii, 35, 59–60, 83, 84, 86–89, 276–77
chanting, xviii, 250, 271–73, 276
death, 281
fear and, 47–49
gratitude, 210, 211, 277
length of, 143–44
morning, 128
question meditation, 251–52
sensory input and, 154
Meetup, 18
Mehrabian, Albert, 96
melatonin, 125
memories, 151
metabolism, 129
method acting, 4
Meyer, Don, 235
mind, 145–72
child and adult mind, 149–50, 154
detachment and, 164–67, 169–71
gratitude and, 207–8
investing in conscious mind, 156–57
maintenance, 171–72
monkey mind, xvi–xvii, 55, 146–49, 154, 158, 161, 207
reframing, 157–60
self-compassion and, 161–63, 169
slowing down, 160–61
staying in present, 163–64, 169
subconscious, 154–56
mindfulness, xv, 104
Mohawk Indians, 210
Monastic Way, The: Ancient Wisdom for Contemporary Living: A Book of Daily Readings (ed. Ward and Wild), 31, 255–57
money, 14–15, 262, 263
life satisfaction and, 69, 70, 73–74
monk mind, de ned, xvi–xvii
monkey mind, xvi–xvii, 55, 146–49, 154, 158, 161, 207
Moore, Thomas, 188
morning gratitude practice, 210
Morrison, Toni, 99
motivation
desire as, 67–73
duty as, 67, 70–73
fear as, 66, 67, 71, 73
four, 66–67
love as, 67, 70–73
mudita, 37
Muhammed, Prophet, 165
multitasking, 141, 143
mutual trust, 233–36
mythic hero, 118, 258

Nan-in, 180
Narayana, 146
Naropa University, Colorado, 44
Native Americans, 147, 210
nature, 257
negative narcissism, 188
negativity, 20–45, 147, 156, 159–62, 172, 238
amending anger, 38–39
auditing negative comments, 34
contagion of, 24–26
incidence of, 22–23
 reversing external, 28–30
reversing internal, 31–38
spot, stop, swap, 32–38, 45, 251, 253, 282
types of negative people, 26–28
Net ix, 180
neutral trust, 233–35
nostalgia, 163

Obama, Barack, 125

Obama, Michelle, 127
objective observer, 28–29
OEOs (opinions, expectations, obligations), 17
O’Leary, Kevin, 129
Om, 271
Om Namo Bhagavate Vasudevaya,, 211, 273
Om Tat Sat, 273
On Purpose podcast, 133
100 Million campaign, 267
Onondaga Indians, 210
Opening Your Heart to Bhutan, 121

pain, 152–53, 169, 250–51, 268–69

Palahniuk, Chuck, 63
Palghar, India, 65
panic, 57, 59
parasympathetic nervous system, 60
parent-child relationships, 149–50
passion, 97–98
aligning with, 102–6
past values, 16–17
Pavlov, Ivan, ix
peace of mind, forgiveness and, 41
Peak (Ericsson and Pool), 102
Pencils of Promise, 269
performance anxiety, 59
Personal Relationships journal, 41
personality types, 108–15
perspective scale, 159–61
physical attraction, 239
Picasso, Pablo, 78
Pierce, Reverend Terri Steed, 177
Pool, Robert, 102
Popova, Maria, 125
Pöppel, Ernst, 146
positivity, dharma and, 119
post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), 207
poverty, 211–12, 263
praise, 174, 175
pranava (Om), 271
pranayama (breathing techniques), 86
prasad (food), 254
present, living in, 136–37, 141, 163–64, 169
pride, 173–74
Princeton University, 69, 148
procrastination, 148
profound gratitude, 219–20
progressing, 158
projection, 178–79
Psychology Today, 228
public speaking, 101
Puddicombe, Andy, xii
Pulse nightclub shooting, Orlando, Florida, 177
pure trust, 233, 235–36
purpose, 71, 83, 93–122 (see also dharma)

Qi Gong, 152
Quadrants of Potential, 102–9
question meditation, 251–52

Radhanath Swami, 37, 182, 185, 227, 228

rajas (impulsivity), 39, 110, 234
Rationally Speaking podcast, 179
Red Bull, 99
redwood trees, 223
re ected best-self exercise, 115
relationships, 221–53, 270
attraction versus connection, 239
circle of love, 223–25, 231
compatibility and, 239–41
energy levels and, 240–41
human family, 230–31
keeping love alive, 248–50
network of compassion, 225
new connections, 229
overcoming heartbreak, 250–53
ready for love, 245–48
romantic, 236–38
setting expectations, 222–23
six loving exchanges, 241–46
trust in (see trust)
relaxation response, 60
remorse, 163
rest-and-digest state, 60
revenge, 39
rewards, 16
Ricard, Matthieu, xi, xii, 171, 237
Rig Veda, 65, 86
Rilke, Rainer Marie, 271
Rinpoche, Chögyam Trungpa, 44
Rinpoche, Yongey Mingyur, x–xi
Rock, Chris, 102
Rohr, Father Richard, 163
role models, 81–82
routine, 123–44
creativity and, 133, 144
evening routine, 129–30
free time, 128
immersive experiences and, 142–44
location and, 132–33, 137–39
looking for something new, 133–36
monotony and, 133
morning routine, 124–28
single-tasking and, 141–43
time and, 140–41
waking up early, 124–27
running, 168

Sachs, Je rey, 70
sacred space, creating, 201
sadhu (teachers), 192–93
Sama Veda, 173–74
samsara (rebirth), 65
sangha (community), 30
sankalpa (intention), 71
Sanskrit, xiv, 30, 32, 38, 68, 71, 118, 173, 237, 260, 280
Santideva, 56
Sapadin, Linda, 157
Sapkal, Sindhutai (Mother of Orphans), 262–63
sat (being), 118
sattva (goodness), 39, 44, 110, 234, 238
Satyarthi, Kailash, 196, 267, 267–68
Saujani, Reshma, 271
schadenfreude, 31
Schulte, Brigid, 70
Scorsese, Martin, 4
scout mindset, 179
seeds and weeds, analogy of, 75–76
selective presence, 136–37
self-awareness, 32, 114, 137, 164, 190, 206, 245–46, 247–48
self-compassion, 161–63, 169
self-con dence, 173
self-control, 154, 164–65, 168, 237
self-criticism, 21, 158
self-defeating thoughts, 156, 157
self-esteem, 159, 161, 181, 183, 190–91, 207, 250
service and, 259
self-forgiveness, 43–44
self-image, 3, 176
self-knowledge, 246
self-mummi cation, 168
self-worth, 191
sel essness, 256
Seneca, 58
senses, 151–54
serotonin, 143
service, 249–50, 254–70
bene ts of, 258–59, 269
following pain in your heart, 268–69
gratitude and, 217–19, 259
highest purpose of, 256–57
with intention, 264–65
mindset, 260–62
readiness for, 262–63
sample places for, 266
self-esteem and, 259
set visualization, 199
seva (sel ess service), 94–95, 260
sexual energy, 237–38
Shaolin monks, 152
Shareability, 16
shastra (scripture), 192–93
should-self, 148
Shri Hansratna Vijayji Maharaj Saheb, 168
silence, 166–68
single-tasking, 141–43
Slade, Emma (Pema Deki), 121–22, 261
sleep, 125–27, 129, 206
Snapchat, 99
social conformity, 24
social media, 13, 14, 23, 170, 212
sokushinbutsu (self-mummi cation), 168
soldier mindset, 179, 228
solitude, 238
Sommer, Christopher, 130
sound, xviii, 139–40, 250, 270–73, 276
Spanx, 189
Spiegel, Evan, 99
spiritual attraction, 239
spot, stop, swap, 32–38, 45, 251, 253, 282
Srimad-Bhagavatam, 183, 257
Srirangam, India, 68
Stanford University, 23, 141, 143
staying in present, 136–37, 141, 163–64, 169
Steindl-Rast, Brother David, xii, 205, 213
stress, 51, 126, 147
subconscious, 154–56
success, illusion of, 67–69
su ciency mindset, 262
sugar consumption, 170, 171, 237
Sutapa, 186–87
Sutta Pitaka, 208
Sweeney, J. Patrick, 228
sympathetic nervous system, 60

talking to yourself, 156–57

tamas (ignorance), 39, 110
Taoism, 58
Tenzin Palmo, Jetsunma, 251
Tesla, Nikola, 270–71
thankfulness, 128 (see also gratitude)
Thich Nhat Hanh, 29, 135, 222
“Think Out Loud” club, 101–2, 246
Tidying Up with Marie Kondo, 165
Tillich, Paul, 238
time, 12–13, 107, 140–41, 240–41
to-be/to-do list, 80
transformational forgiveness, 39–41
trees, 50, 223
trust
 as daily practice, 236
four types of, 225–29
stages of, 232–35
25/75 principle, 29–30
Twitter, 212
Tyson, Neil deGrasse, 253

unconditional forgiveness, 40, 41

University of California, Berkeley, 263
University of California, Los Angeles, 132–33
University of California, San Diego, 215
University of Virginia, 11
University of Waterloo, 148
Upadesamrta, 241, 244
Upanishads, xiv, 151
Upside of Stress, The (McGonigal), 71
usefulness, 97–98

Vaca Sutta, 35
vagus nerve, 60, 272
value-driven decisions, 17
values, xiii, 4, 8–19, 79, 226, 227, 241–42
vanity, 174
Vanzant, Iyanla, 248
varna, 94–95, 177, 287
varnas, 109–15
Vayu Purana, 270
Vedas, xiv
Vedic Personality Test, 109, 115–16
text of, 283–87
vibrational healing, 270–71
victim mentality, 23, 26, 190
Vietnam War veterans, 207
vinayam (humility or modesty), 173
visualization, xviii, 196–202, 276, 277
body scan, 200
emotional triggers and, 153–54
exercises, 199–202
exploratory, 199
gratitude, 128, 217
joy, 211
presence and mental picture, 201–2
sacred space, creating, 201
set, 199
for tomorrow, 131–32
Vladimiro , Sister Christine, 31, 255–56
volunteering, 217–19

waking up early, 124–27

want-self, 148
Ward, Hannah, 31
WhatsApp, 212
When Things Fall Apart (Chödrön), 44
“Why You Think You’re Right Even When You’re Wrong” (Galef), 179
Wild, Jennifer, 31
Wilson, Rick, 234
Winfrey, Oprah, 248, 263
World Happiness Report, 70
Wrzesniewski, Amy, 105–6

Yamuna river, 262

yoga, 128, 258–59, 273
Yosemite National Park, 50
YouTube, 153, 170, 269
yukta-vairagya, 257

Zen, 136, 164–65, 178, 180, 266

zero forgiveness, 40
Zuckerberg, Mark, 99
 Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Shetty, Jay, author. Title: Think like a monk : train your mind for peace and
purpose every day / Jay Shetty. Description: New York : Simon & Schuster, [2020] |
Includes index. | Summary: “Jay Shetty, social media superstar and host of the #1
podcast On Purpose, distills the timeless wisdom he learned as a monk into practical
steps anyone can take every day to live a less anxious, more meaningful life”—Provided
by publisher. Identi ers: LCCN 2020000011 (print) | LCCN 2020000012 (ebook) |
ISBN 9781982134488 (hardcover) |ISBN 9781982149819 (paperback) | ISBN
9781982134501 (ebook) Subjects: LCSH: Self-realization. | Meaning (Psychology) |
Conduct of life. | Hindu monastic and religious life. Classi cation: LCC BF637.S4 S526
2020 (print) | LCC BF637.S4 (ebook) | DDC 158.1—dc23 LC record available at
https://lccn.loc.gov/2020000011 LC ebook record available at
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ISBN 978-1-9821-3448-8
ISBN 978-1-9821-3450-1 (ebook)