To me, groundlessness as a wisdom practice is challenging. It’s an invitation to forget every concept, let go of everything I know, and sit in the direct experience of my life. I love the idea. But as a practical matter, how do I make dinner if I live in a non-conceptual reality, let alone how do I walk into a courtroom and present evidence?

On the other hand, what if the aspiration to let go at this level, in the relative sense, is about just letting go of unwholesome concepts like that we, and others, are bad, wrong, difficult, not enough? To me this feels like a powerful enough letting go, for me and for now, because it points to a powerful level of freedom: the freedom to connect compassionately with others, and the freedom to be connected to my own luminous self.

What about you? If you have a practice of letting go at this level, where does it feel like it leads?

(Dedicated to letting go of any sense that we’re right, they’re wrong, and the fight is to the death; and to cultivating love and compassion in all directions on our small blue planet.)

There’s a way that my habits and patterns block whatever wisdom I have. I think I know where to point, but my fear that the direction isn’t perfect, stops me. I think I know what to say, but perfectionism whispers, “what if that’s not it?”

Every so often during meditation, my habits fall away and I can see perfectionism through a loving lens, as just a constellation of thoughts, forming and dissolving. When that happens, wisdom is right there, waiting. Sometimes it waits like a signpost. Sometimes it shows up like gravity, reminding me to anchor to the earth. Sometimes it’s like peaches in summer, round and ripe and ready for picking, if only I remember to lift my gaze and gently open my hands.

(For everyone struggling with what freedom means right now.)

The trouble with letting my enthusiasm show is that most of the time I’m afraid I won’t look cool. I’ll be outed for being joyful in a world that’s scary and getting worse. Enthusiasm almost feels inappropriate.

But what if enthusiasm is just effort infused by love? And what if we didn’t feel inhibited to bring love – not romantic love but the natural luminosity of our own minds – into our days? What if, even in the midst of the chaos that is 2024, we still, nonetheless, brought a kind of enthusiasm floated by love, into our courtrooms, conference rooms, classrooms, and living rooms? That would be cool enough, wouldn’t it?

(For my Berkeley students, who navigated a difficult year and all the while, honored me and one another with their loving and dedicated practice.)