I complain for years that I don’t know what to do
And every day I sit on the couch hoping for an answer

But the phrase, “I don’t know what to do,” doesn’t mean what I think it means.

I think it means God has no plan for me
I’m useless
I’m bored
I’m wasting my life.

But it means something else
It means:
“I don’t understand the importance of what I’m doing”
“House chores are beneath me”
“Life is not meeting my expectations”
“I don’t trust God”
“I think I need to save the world”

It means I don’t understand that the smallest acts can be done with so much care, that heaven comes down to earth.

It’s not about controlling the outcome. It’s about doing everything with love.

Years ago I wrote a song:
“If you don’t know what to do, rejoice!
Life has given you abundant stillness.”

I haven’t followed my own advice. 
But maybe the advice was a little off
Rejoicing isn’t always the answer

There is so much to do:
That unfinished wood carving
Knitting a sweater
Clean the car
Talk to someone on the street
Do the dishes
Make cookies
Sing
Prune the dead branches in the backyard
Write a letter to a friend

“I don’t know what to do,” means
“I don’t see how doing those things will fix everything.”

I want to fix everything
I want to fix everything
I want to fix EVERYTHING

Not my responsibility.

“Whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it.” 

I’ve been searching for my life
I thought I knew what my life should be
I thought I was the needle, but really I’m the hay

Trusting God means
"I will do these things, even though I don't see how it will fix everything."

But it will fix everything
That's the fun part
God wants to fix everything, too
And for some reason,
He wants me to do the dishes.

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Of course, we are already a part of the living earth. We just don’t act like it.

Am I blindly trusting scientists, indigenous people, farmers, and new-age philosophers, when they tell me we are out of balance with nature? Maybe destroying land to harvest wood, mine metal, and extract fossil fuels is actually the more efficient, less destructive way. And if we all lived “on the land” we would deplete natural resources faster.

After all, overall tree coverage on earth has actually grown over the past 20 years, despite all the harvesting and mining.

How do I know what’s truly sustainable and what’s not? The mindset of calculation, efficiency, and ever-expanding data, cannot answer this question.

Let’s see what this mindset does:

At face value, the destruction of a forest is a bad thing.

But maybe that forest was destroyed to build efficient homes. And those efficient homes don’t use much energy. And the energy savings are equivalent to saving many other forests. And so the one forest was destroyed to save many. If we didn’t destroy the one forest, many other forests would have died.

But maybe not. What if a rare species needed that forest? What are the consequences of losing that species? The effects are too numerous to measure.

In that mindset, you’ll always leave something out.

So the question remains. How do I know we are out of balance? I think this is actually a spiritual question. Science is necessary, but not sufficient.

Some cultures have lived sustainably without modern science. They didn’t calculate for efficiency. They couldn’t destroy one forest to save many because they only had one forest. They didn’t destroy forests at all. They were part of the forest, and the forest was healthier for it.

These old cultures were masters at what we call “resource management”. But they didn’t view nature as a collection of “resources”. All parts of nature, including the stones, were part of their living family. Not resources, but relationships. This is the basis of their spirituality. Their relationship to nature was always saturated with sacredness. That’s why they knew how to live in balance with nature. They didn’t figure it out themselves. Nature told them.

I grew up watching Pocahontas, so this idea is not new to me. I’ve heard it so many times it has lost its meaning. Yes, we are not separate from nature. Yes, we depend on nature to survive. Yes, nature is a living being who deserves respect. I’ve heard it a million times. And it’s true.

But can we live as if it’s true? For my entire life, I’ve been taught to live a different way. And every company, institution, and law is designed to sustain our separation from nature.

I rely on these institutions for survival. I can take a weekend workshop on wild foraging, but I still have to go to the grocery store.

Just like indigenous people had no other choice but to live sustainably, I have no other choice but to live in the uncertainty. I don’t know if the food I buy at the grocery store is sustainable or not.

What can we do about that?

Drive less? Plant a garden? Nurture a spiritual relationship with the land? Buy food from a farmer’s market? These are all good things, no doubt. But do any of them really make a dent in the whole system?

I’m trying to decide whether to own a car. The car I have is breaking down. I could buy a new one, or live without a car.

If I see nature as family, it seems obvious that I shouldn’t own a car. I have no spiritual relationship with the land where the raw materials came from. I doubt I could even track down all the mines that produced the metal and plastic that go into a new car. There are probably dozens of mines involved all over the world. Not to mention the gas I’ll continually burn while driving the car (I can’t afford an electric vehicle, and even if I could, I wouldn’t have a relationship to the land where the electricity was generated).

Side note: They say a car saves travel time. But now that cars exist, we spend much more time travelling. So a car doesn’t save time, it only increases your expectation of how far you “deserve” to travel.

I want to have an intimate connection with everything in my life. Every object has a story. I want to know where it came from, how it was harvested, and who crafted it. That’s the only way I’ll know if I’m living sustainably. Owning a car is the opposite of this.

Or is it? Just like we can’t know the effect of cutting down a forest, we can’t know the effect of owning a car. Maybe a car is necessary for me, temporarily, to build a balanced relationship with nature. Just like a butterfly flapping its wings can cause a storm, there’s no way to predict the effect of being able to travel easily.

Ah, but I’ve gone into that other mindset again. The mindset where I think I need to know everything, quantify all the variables, predict all the consequences. It’s impossible. Sustainable cultures didn’t do that. They listened to nature.

Is it possible for nature to tell me what to do? Can I take the idea of “nature is family” seriously?

In my culture, we like to give lip service to indigenous ideas and spirituality. We love to say we should learn from their way of life, to live in balance with nature, to see nature as a living being rather than a resource. But when it comes down to it, we don’t know how to live that way. We don’t know how to listen to nature, and let nature determine the direction of our lives.

And so I walk through the forest
Asking, “Should I own a car? A phone? A computer?”
Listening
Hearing only silence
Because I already know the answer

Of course nature wants to welcome me into the family
To teach me everything
To exchange our gifts
To delight in each other
And I can’t do that while stuck in traffic 
Or staring at a phone
Or typing on a computer

So the question isn’t, “Should I?”
It’s “Can I?”
Can I live without?
Am I strong enough?
Am I wise enough?
Am I connected enough?
Will other people join me?
Will I be okay?

And those are questions only I can answer.

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It’s a subtle transformation:
Fear turns to excitement
Worry turns to joy
“I should do something productive or else I’ll get kicked out of the Garden of Eden.”
Turns to, “I’m excited to do this thing because it’s good.”

When reading the sermon on the mount,
“Do I measure up?”
Turns to, “Wow, what a beautiful vision for life.”

It’s a subtle transformation
And it happens all the time
And nobody knows why
Your therapist included

It’s subtle, but it’s everything
It is uncovering the lamp
It is salt regaining it’s saltiness
It is the narrow gate

It is believing in “Blessed are the poor in spirit”
That’s us

Do I hunger and thirst for righteousness?
Yes. Yes I do. 
I also hunger and thirst for other things
“That’s not okay”
Turns to, “That’s okay”

It’s a subtle transformation
And I never want to go back
But I will, eventually
I am not in control
Pessimism and self-blame will return
But I will not build my house on that sand.

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You are a coward
It’s not ideal
You have asked God to tell you what to do. Hundreds of times.
It’s a foolish request. There are so many things God knows you won’t do.

You won’t talk to most people.
You won’t ask for help.
You usually won’t offer help either.
You won’t do anything that draws attention.
You won’t do anything that might upset someone.

You won’t fast for 40 days in the wilderness.
You won’t choose wisdom over sustenance.
You won’t let go of the desire to prove yourself.
You won’t choose a life of suffering over a life of luxury.

You want God to tell you what to do, but most of the possibilities are off the table. 
Because you have this body. And in this body, there is fear.

Maybe a better prayer is this: “God, will you take my fear away?”

Exposure therapy, sound healing, journalling, meditation, feeling your feelings, singing, dancing, self-help books. These things have helped. But only a little.

They say God doesn’t make mistakes. So this body, fear included, is no accident. It was meant to be this way. No matter what choices you make, you will be loved.

But

And

You’re meant to grow larger than this fear.

If you don’t, everything will be okay.
If you do, the kingdom of heaven will be at hand. It will come near.

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We need to learn to slow down.

The deer just peed.

We think we need to do more. We think purpose comes from our work.

So when our work feels pointless, we think we need to do even more work to create meaningful work for ourselves. And when we try to create meaningful work, we always ends up writing a lot of emails.

Always emails.

There’s two deer now, and they’re chasing each other through the forest.

I spend a lot of time looking for meaningful work. In this era of “life coaches”, entrepreneurs, sales funnels, and side hustles.

But I don’t like emails.

I like meditating, but there’s no money in that. Unless I learn to speak or write about it, and captivate crowds. But then, I would have to pretend I know something the crowd doesn’t.

John the Baptist lived in the forest, ate locusts and wild honey, and wore a garment made of camel’s hair.

I live in a house with a spare room, eat fruit all year, and have too many clothes.

And I want to earn more money?

The people came to John at the river for spiritual renewal. And I…

The deer is still in the forest. I can barely see her now.

Baptism was not a business idea. John didn’t have a slick website.

I want to write letters to friends. Physical letters, with postage stamps. But there’s no money in that.

Jesus came to John at the river. For what? Jesus is spiritual renewal in human form.

We think we have to work to survive.

So how come less than 2% of us farmers?

Tell me about meaningful work. What are we doing? Paying the rent?

Here’s how it works: Find something people used to get for free. Friendship, advice, healing, entertainment, spiritual renewal. Take it away from them. Then, convince them you are a good person, that you have some special knowledge, and you can sell it back to them. Charge lots of money, because you “need” it. Meaningful work.

Or we could all become farmers. But it’s a hard life, being a farmer. Though not as hard as living in the forest, eating locusts and wild honey. I should just suck it up and write the damn emails.

Can we all agree that we’ve created a crazy world?

If I go to the river for spiritual renewal, will I find the answers? Will I, like the deer, find joy in eating weeds and sleeping in the rain?

True rebellion goes unnoticed. If I post it online, package it for sale, it’s already dead. Don’t tell my marketing coach I said that.

Maybe I could write you a letter about it.

The deer is gone, and now I notice the birds.

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1. Money isn’t aligned with our values

2. But money is just the expression of our collective psychology

3. Fear is a big part of our psychology, and that’s why money isn’t aligned with our values

4. Interconnectedness overcomes fear

5. Overcoming fear will align money with our values and change the world

1) Money isn’t aligned with our values

I’m about to say a lot of negative things about money. But I want to start by recognizing its benefits.

Money has produced societies that are remarkably free from famine. And there doesn’t seem to be a viable alternative.

I’m very happy I can go to work, earn money, then buy fresh food at the grocery store. Some of us might take that for granted, but it really is a miracle. It would be a hassle to trade with complete strangers without money.

Okay, on to the negative aspects of money. There’s a lot.

Money flows in the wrong direction sometimes. It is supposed to help us provide for our needs, but many needs are not being met. Instead, money pools in the hands of people who have so much money they don’t know what to do with it.

Charities and other good organizations are under-funded. If they had more money, we could end homelessness and starvation, make our economy sustainable, and provide the best healthcare to everyone on earth. How many times have you heard an organization say, “We could do a lot of great things if we had more funding”?

And it’s not just a few organizations. It seems like almost everyone is under-funded these days. Charities, universities, hospitals, cities, countries.

We value food and shelter, and yet farmers and construction workers don’t make huge salaries. On the other hand, trading all day on the stock market arguably does little to help anyone, yet many traders become rich.

People who teach and care for children are paid little. While others get rich creating harmful social media platforms.

People who plant trees get paid less than people who cut them down.

Drug dealers earn lots of money, but people who run Narcotics Anonymous groups do not.

I could go on and on.

Who among us hasn’t had this experience with money? You might have an idea for improving your community, but you can’t afford to implement it. Or you don’t have enough time because you have to spend your days making money.

The crazy thing is, we invented the darn thing. Money is completely made up. It’s not real. It only has value because we say it has value. So if we’re in charge of money, why is it so misaligned?

It’s tempting to think that we can reinvent the “money system” so that it’s more aligned with our values. There are lots of ideas about this. We could tax the rich, implement a universal basic income, change the fractional reserve banking system, abolish interest, and go back to the gold standard. Those are all good ideas, but I don’t think they get at the core of the problem.

2) Money is an expression of our collective psychology

All the money in the world is owned by people, whether they are individuals or representatives from organizations. And we are all technically free to spend that money however we want (with very few exceptions). If we’re upset about the flow of money, we can blame psychology.

This is where it’s tempting to resent the rich. If they were better people, they’d donate more money to charities, and all the world’s problems would be solved. That’s probably true. But many of us “normal” people are complicit.

For example, how many of us are upset by how wealthy Mark Zuckerberg is, and yet we won’t delete our Facebook or Instagram accounts?

Mark Zuckerberg’s wealth comes from the collective choices of millions of people. It’s the same for most rich people. Jeff Bezos is rich because people shop on Amazon. Investors are rich because we all “value” the stocks they own, and they go up in price.

Charities are under-funded because people don’t donate. Cities are under-funded because people like low taxes. All these things result from our collective choices. But on an individual level, they don’t feel like choices. Why?

3) Fear causes money to be misaligned with our values

When I first entered adulthood, I had just a few thousand dollars in my bank account. Enough to live for two or three months. I was doing work I wasn’t passionate about, so I made a promise to myself: If I saved up enough money to live for a year (in my very cheap apartment), I would take a year off to pursue my passion.

But when I saved up enough money for a year, I kept working. I thought, “What if I saved up enough money for TWO years?”. When I had saved up almost enough money for two years, I thought, “What if I saved up enough money for a down payment on a house?”

I can see how this spiral could keep going. First, you save up enough for a year. Then two. Then a down payment. Then you buy a house and have expensive mortgage payments. Then you need to renovate the house. Then you need to save for retirement. If you have kids, you have to save enough money for them to live comfortably after you die. The goalposts keep shifting.

For me, my dislike for my job caught up with me. I wanted to quit more than I wanted the money. I’m now earning much less money, living partly off those savings, and trying to figure out my role in making the world a better place. I exited the spiral. Most people wait until retirement to do that, but I’m only 33.

And boy oh boy is it scary. Fear.

Fear is the root of the problem. We save money because we are afraid of running out. The more afraid you are, the more money you need. The wealthiest people are often the most afraid.

Fear is the only reason I kept doing work I didn’t enjoy. On the small scale of my personal life, this caused money to work against my values. I valued my passions, but I didn’t pursue them because of money.

This pattern scales up.

Fear is also the reason Mark Zuckerberg is rich. We don’t delete our Facebook and Instagram accounts because we are afraid of being bored and left out.

Rich people could donate all their money to charity, but they don’t because they are afraid of having less money.

People buy all the latest gadgets from Amazon because they are afraid of living more simply.

Our collective fear is preventing us from using our money to make the world a better place. But is this fear justified? Isn’t it just common sense to save for retirement?

4) Interconnectedness overcomes fear.

Fear comes from feeling separate. I’m afraid of running out of money because, deep down, I think I’m alone. I need to be self-sufficient. If I’m truly alone, running out of money means death.

But I’m not alone. There are plenty of people out there who won’t let me die of starvation. Family, friends, even complete strangers. My well-being is not separate from theirs. We could call this interconnectedness, or to borrow a Buddhist concept, “interbeing”.

The more alone you feel, the more money you think you need. If you think everyone is against you, you’ll need a vast fortune to protect yourself. You’ll need a huge house and lots of land with a big fence around it. Kind of makes you feel sorry for people who hoard wealth.

So, to overcome fear, we need to embrace our interbeing. This means you can feel safe knowing that others have your back. And the feeling of safety means you can allow yourself to help others. Helping other people won’t hurt you, because they’ll help you when you need it.

Interbeing also means that suffering is shared. If others are suffering, you can’t ignore it. If you have resources that could help, why would you withhold them?

We can work toward this on a practical level, and also on a spiritual level. Practically, we can build more connections with people around us. Spiritually, we can work on feeling an inner sense of connectedness. Because, in fact, we are all connected whether we realize it or not.

The more connected we feel, the safer we feel. The safer we feel, the more we can align our money with our values.

I’m making it sound easy, but it’s not. Fear is not merely intellectual. It lives in the body. Getting the brain on board with interbeing is just the first step. That’s the easy part. Overcoming fear means getting your whole body on board, and that could be a lifelong effort.

And I’m no expert. For example, I believe I should delete my social media accounts. Why don’t I? Because I think I’ll need them to make money. I’m a musician, and I share my events and albums on social media. It all comes back to money. I want Zuckerberg to give away his wealth, but I’m not willing to let go of the tiny amount of money I make from his social media platforms.

If I truly believed in interbeing, I would trust that I’ll be okay if I delete my social media accounts. I would trust that other people would see me doing the right thing, and they’d take care of me if I needed it.

And maybe it goes deeper than that. Maybe I should do the right thing even if it hurts. Maybe I should do the right thing even if it kills me. This can get real spiritual. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Baby steps.

This can’t happen all at once. Sometimes our fears are justified. Sometimes we really are alone. In an imperfect world, sometimes saving money is the right thing to do. I’m not suggesting that everyone should quit their job and give away all their money immediately. We don’t have enough interbeing for that yet.

But I’ll bet everyone could find a baby step to take. If it’s not directly money-related, work on building your community. Store up some more interbeing, and eventually you’ll have enough to stop worrying about money.

5) This will change the world

Without interbeing, deleting my social media accounts and selling my stocks changes nothing. My actions are just a drop in the ocean. Rich people have more money and power, so their actions have a bigger effect. On one level, that’s true.

But if we recognize the full effect we have on the world, we see a different picture. Our actions affect everyone we know.

Since 2022, global time spent on social media has decreased by 10%. Is that because a bunch of random people suddenly, and separately, had the same realization at the same time? Or is it because we all affect one another, and people who quit social media are spreading the word about how amazing it is?

It’s the latter. And it’s having a big effect.

Change happens when good ideas spread around the world, one conversation at a time, one action at a time. You could be a dead end or a megaphone for these good ideas.

Quitting social media is low-hanging fruit. Here’s another trend. More people are quitting their meaningless jobs and dedicating themselves to meaningful work. The more people who do that, the safer everyone feels to make the same choice. Interbeing at work.

What would happen if everyone overcame their fear of running out of money? My theory: money would be more aligned with our values. Charities would be well-funded, and companies that harm the world would go out of business.

You can be a megaphone for this idea. But being a megaphone requires action. You can’t just share this article and expect things to change. “Be the change” is a cliché for a reason. Notice when you’re afraid of running out of money. Notice how that affects your choices. Work with the fear using whatever healing modalities and therapies you can get your hands on. Make new choices. When people ask you how you’re doing, you can tell them all about your experience.

Feel your fear, but choose interbeing.

Rich people will not give up their money if we continue demonizing them and telling them they are the problem. In fact, demonization gives them more evidence that they are alone, and therefore their hoard of wealth is their only source of safety. When we blame rich people, we are inadvertently encouraging them to hoard more wealth.

The only thing you can do to help people overcome the fear of running out of money is to overcome your own fear. People will notice and be inspired.

That’s my speech

I’m no economist. I’m not a businessperson. I’m just a musician with some thoughts. I’m probably wrong about something here. But seriously, I think someone should write a book about this.

Here’s the summary again:

1. Money isn’t aligned with our values

2. But money is just the expression of our collective psychology

3. Fear is a big part of our psychology, and that’s why money isn’t aligned with our values

4. Interconnectedness overcomes fear

5. Overcoming fear will align money with our values and change the world

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In September 2022, almost four years ago, I began reading the Bible from the beginning and writing articles about my experience. I just finished reading the last book of the Old Testament, the book of Chronicles.

When I started reading the Bible, I didn’t know what I was doing. I also didn’t know that I didn’t know what I was doing.

But it’s just a book, right? I know how to read. Isn’t that good enough?

This leads me to my first guideline for anyone interested in the Bible. After a few years of reading and studying, I have one solid piece of advice: Do not read the Old Testament alone. Reading alone will leave you bored, confused, and perhaps disgusted. If you read it alone, you will miss details that might change everything.

If you don’t have an in-person community to share thoughts with, you can read Bible commentary books, or listen to podcasts about the Bible. Just make sure you get more than one perspective. I recommend you take advantage of the free resources provided by the Bible Project.

Almost four years ago, I read Genesis chapter 1 in a few minutes. I later took a 14-hour course on the same chapter. And 14 hours wasn’t nearly enough time to cover all the details.

Is that discouraging, or exciting?

Here’s the second guideline: Choose Wisely. You could be discouraged or excited about the Bible’s complexity. You have to choose. There is no fool-proof logic in favour of one or the other.

The Bible will make you choose many times. Is the Bible good? Is life good? Should you give up? All these questions need answers, and you have to choose. You could say it’s a matter of faith.

After you choose, you will find evidence to support your choice. If you choose to believe the Bible is bad, you’ll notice all the bad parts of it. If you choose to believe the Bible is good, the Bible will blow your mind by how brilliant it is.

It’s the same with life. I urge you to believe that life is good.

So, what does the Old Testament say?

That might be the most difficult question ever.

The Old Testament might have answers, but it definitely asks questions. Questions like:

• Is it possible for flawed humans to create a good world?

• What exactly are our main flaws?

• How does God respond to flawed humans?

• How come humans can be good one moment, then bad the next?

• What would a truly good human do?

• What kind of life should a good person expect to live?

• How was the universe created, from a scientific perspective? (just kidding, the Old Testament doesn’t care about that whatsoever)

The Old Testament answers these questions through stories. It meditates on these issues, looks at them from multiple angles, explores paradoxes and contradictions, and forces the reader to put in a lot of effort. If you asked 100 Bible scholars to summarize the message of the Old Testament, you’d probably get 100 slightly different answers.

Here’s my attempt: Humans could create a good society, but they have varying levels of selfishness, and that makes them behave badly sometimes. God is not selfish, so humans should trust God instead, but it’s so dang hard.

Please don’t take my word for it. My summary leaves so much out.

But as you can see, there’s a tension at the centre of the Old Testament. We know we should trust God, but we fail. The text doesn’t have a clear solution here. It says, “just trust God”, but it’s full of people who fail to trust God. Some people, like Noah, Joseph, David, Daniel, and Job, trust God most of the time. Do they just have stronger willpower? Is that the answer?

And what does trusting God even mean? The commandments and proverbs give pretty good general guidance. But you’ll always encounter situations they don’t cover. In those situations, can you just ask God? The Old Testament is full of cases where God talks to people, as if that’s a normal thing. But it doesn’t give any instruction on how to know when God is talking to you. There are other spiritual forces at play that you might want to avoid.

The Old Testament is not a step-by-step guide for how to live your life.

I’ve changed

When I first started this project, I hesitated everytime I mentioned God. Because I wasn’t sure whether God existed. I wanted to put a caveat (God, if he exists, etc…).

Now, without batting an eye, I can ask about how to know when God is talking to you. It’s as if I really believe in God.

Do I? I still have a hard time answering that question directly. It seems to me that the question is loaded. Most people who ask that question are trying to determine what team you’re on. Are you on Team Atheist or Team Christian? If they know which team you’re on, they’ll know whether to work alongside you, or work against you.

I feel that. When someone asks me if I believe in God, I can sense which answer they want me to give. A tricky situation for a conflict-avoidant people-pleaser like me.

If I ask that question of myself? On a factual level, I don’t know. I don’t know much of anything on a factual level. I think facts are much more slippery than modern science wants them to be. It seems impossible that “God” could exist, but it also seems impossible that “Paul Barton” could exist. And here I am.

On a psychological/emotional/mythological/spiritual/bodily/interconnected level, it feels better to believe that the word “God” refers to something real. We just have to get rid of the baggage. God is not a bearded man in the sky. God, by definition, cannot be defined. Human beings have spiritual experiences, and we call the source of those experiences “God”, but we don’t really know what we are talking about.

This is what happens when I think about this question directly. My mind goes in circles and I come up with weird ideas like, “God, by definition, cannot be defined”.

When I don’t think about it directly, when I focus on my daily life experience, the physicalness of it, the emotions, my longings and fears, it just makes sense to have God on my side. I don’t really know what that means.

What now?

The logical next step is to read the New Testament.

But it also feels weird to jump right into the book of Matthew as if nothing has changed. I have a feeling I’ll want to write an article about every paragraph of the Gospels, and that could turn this into a lifelong task. Am I ready for that? Are there better things I could do with my time?

I have also started writing non-bible articles on my Substack. Where is that going to take me?

On another note, I have just completed the Big Dream Program, a course about how to figure out what to do with your life. I have lots of new ideas for my life direction, and I’m not sure how they all fit together yet.

So, I can’t tell you what will happen next on this Substack. I will only write about the Bible if I feel excited about it. It’s likely, but not guaranteed.

Thanks for reading. If you’ve been here from the beginning, big cheers to you.

Below are all 165 articles I wrote about the Old Testament:

Genesis

• The Beginning

• Adam and Eve

• Cain and Abel

• Noah

• Tower of Babel

• Abram to Abraham

• Lot and Abimelech

• Abraham and Isaac

• Sarah Leaves, Rebecca Enters

• Isaac

• Jacob

• Jacob Part 2

• Judah and Tamar

• Joseph

• Reflections on Genesis: What is God?

Exodus

• The Call of Moses

• Hardened Heart

• We Are All Chosen Ones

• Trust vs Fear

• God Visits

• The Ten Commandments

• God Instructs

• The Golden Calf

• The Presence of God

• Reflections on Exodus

Leviticus

• The Offerings

• The First Priests

• What are the cleanliness laws about?

• The Day of Atonement

• Strange Laws

• Feasts, Sabbaths, and a Blasphemer

• Is God a Tyrant?

• Reflections on Leviticus

Numbers

• Hierarchy and Jealousy

• Reading the Bible is an act of faith

• Why is Numbers so similar to Exodus?

• Spies, Lies, and Revolt

• What’s Your Motivation?

• Moses Fails

• Balaam and Me

• What Makes a Leader?

• An Anticlimactic Ending

Deuteronomy

• Moses the Flawed Prophet

• The Border of Eden

• More Than Laws

• Laws and Morality

• Failure and Success

• The End of the Torah

Joshua

• God Plays His Part

• War

• More War

• All Is Well (For Now)

Judges

• The Role of Humans

• Ancient Music

• Gideon and Abimelech

• God is Fed Up

• Israel Needs Redemption

Samuel

• A Prophet is Born

• The Call of Samuel

• Humble, Courageous Faith

• King Saul

• Ambiguities

• Obedience

• David and the Harp, and Goliath

• Fairness and Jealousy

• David the Righteous

• Keeping David From Bloodshed

• What do David and Saul have to do with me?

• The Problem of Murder

• Will the New Chosen One Fail?

• David on the Roof

• David, Amnon, Absalom, and finding meaning in 2023

• The Suffering Chosen One

• Is The Bible Really Real?

• Bittersweet Return

• David’s Songs

Kings

• Solomon the Wise?

• Solomon Builds the Temple

• Solomon Fails

• Chaos Rules

• Elijah and two Sidonian women

• Elijah Wants to Die

• Ahab, Sullen and Angry

• Elijah Goes to Heaven

• Miracles

• Preparing for Destruction

• Violence and Non-Violence

• The Assyrian Exile

• A Different Kind Of God

• The Babylonian Exile

Isaiah

• Destruction and Re-Creation

• Who Is Immanuel?

• A Child Is Born

• Cities of Death

• Two Mysterious Verses

• Creation Again

• Who is God?

• Does Hell Exist?

• A Turning Point

• Is Isaiah Relevant to Me?

• A Light to Guide Me Back to Eden

• Christianity’s favourite Old Testament chapter: Isaiah 53

• Can Isaiah help me heal screen addiction?

• Want wisdom? Get used to having more questions than answers.

Jeremiah

• The Cycle of Sin, Exile, and Re-Creation

• Is God Incompetent?

• Why are good people persecuted?

• Breaking the Cycle

• Exile is Good

• Can We Predict the Future?

• Forget stone tablets. Can God write his law on my heart?

• Jeremiah doesn’t tell the full story

• When staying humble saves the world

Ezekiel

• Lunatic or Genius?

• Ezekiel’s Role

• Ezekiel and Terry Pratchett: How a critique of religion affirms the Bible

• Repairing relationship with a tyrant God?

• “Then you will know that I am the Lord”

• When the Snake Wins

• Goodness is Contagious

• Ezekiel’s Wife Dies

• Is Eden in an ancient country called Tyre?

• Why does the Bible sometimes repeat words a lot?

• Why can’t we skip the bad stuff?

• The Valley of Dry Bones

• Who is Gog?

• Measuring the Ideal Temple

• When in Eden

The Twelve Minor Prophets

• Hosea: Does Hosea contradict the book of Kings?

• Hosea: Money and Modern Idolatry

• Hosea: We Can’t Do It Alone

• Joel: How To Save The World

• Amos: Why don’t prophets predict the future anymore?

• Amos: To resurrect, you have to die first

• Obadiah: History is one big feud between brothers

• Jonah Wanted Vengeance

• Micah: Should I Give Wway All My Money?

• Micah: Do My Actions Matter?

• Nahum: How Does Peace Happen?

• Habakkuk: What’s The Point Of Trying?

• Zephaniah: Am I Humble?

• Haggai: Will Things Ever Change?

• Zechariah: Strange Visions

• Zechariah: Being a Good Person is Boring

• Zechariah: Peace Doesn’t Make Sense

• Malachi

The Writings

• Psalm 1

• Psalm 23 is not as comforting as you think

• Psalm 27: Comfort vs Challenge

• Psalm 34

• Psalm 46

• Psalm 91: God Save The Bored

• Psalm 139

• Psalm 143: In Praise of Doing Nothing

• A Conversation With The Book of Proverbs

• Proverbs: Boring But True

• Job: The Unexpected, Unsatisfying Truth

• Song of Songs

• Ruth

• Lamentations: In the Bible, every letter is important

• Is Ecclesiastes a Parody of Human Wisdom?

• Esther: It’s Courageous to be Cautios

• Daniel: How to Overthrow an Empire, Bible Style

• Ezra-Nehemiah: The Bible Is Not a Rule Book

• This article

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I’m starting to heal from that pessimism and distrust.

My skepticism wasn’t wrong, though. It was good to notice that protests don’t affect politicians, electric vehicles won’t save us, and voting changes little.

We have to be realistic. We are far from the peaceful, abundant, sustainable world we all want. Or are we? Is that just my pessimism talking? Could peace be right around the corner?

When I focus too much on what doesn’t work, I feel hopeless and unmotivated. Unfortunately, I don’t see many examples of things working. This can create a self-fulfilling prophecy. When things don’t work, I’m less motivated. When I’m less motivated, I won’t try to make things work.

This struggle is all about belief. I want to believe that my actions matter. That there’s something I can do to “change the world”.

And belief is a tricky thing. Our brains can entertain many ideas at once. We can try to convince ourselves that something is true. It’s like we split ourselves in two, and one part tries to persuade the other. We can also think we believe something, but we don’t act as if we do. The part of us that determines our behaviour believes something else.

It’s all a bit of a mess.

What sort of beliefs do I need? If I’m trying to believe I can change the world, I could believe:

• If I find the right things to do, I could make a difference

• All my daily actions have a ripple effect I can’t perceive

• Changing the world is God’s responsibility, not mine

• I’m already changing the world, and I need to practice more gratitude

• The best way to change the world is to change myself

• The best way to change the world is to change how we raise the next generation

• I was created with certain skills and interests for a reason. Therefore, the best thing is to do what I love.

There are probably more options. And they all have a grain of truth. But you can’t prove any of them definitively. You can never be certain.

But we still have to live. We still have to believe at least one of those things, so we can get on with our day. If we give up, failure is guaranteed.

So we keep trying. But my attempts seem to always look like the first option above. I think, “If I find the right things to do, I’ll change the world”. So far, I don’t feel like I’ve found the answer. Maybe it’s not the right question.

Maybe it’s not a matter of “figuring out” what to do.
I just figured out that it’s not a matter of figuring it out. 
And now that I’ve figured that out, I have to figure out what to do next.
I have to figure out how to end this article.
Because maybe this article will change the world.
But do I really believe that?

I’m jealous of the cardinal singing in my backyard.

If I believe something will work, it will work. 
The only way for something to not work is for me to start believing it won’t work, and give up on it.
Everything works, it just doesn’t work the way I expect it to.

Breathe.

They say it’s better to be motivated by love, not fear.
But everything I do is based on fear.
Fear of running out of money.
Fear of people not liking me.
Fear of people liking me.
Fear of having to do things I don’t want to do.
Fear of boredom.

And they also say that the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom.
And God wasn’t on my list of fears.
So have I even begun?

They also say, “Face your fears. “
And I am.

I apologize for the weird post. But these are weird times. For some of us, this is not the time for intellectual certainty. I can’t discover “the truth” and then write about it. I don’t know how to change the world.

But the world is changing. And sometimes, navigating by feel is the only way. What feels right? I was trying to figure out how to change the world, but it felt right to just stop. And when I stopped, I noticed that I wasn’t really trying to figure out how to change the world. I was trying to calm my fear. I took a deep breath and noticed how afraid I was. Maybe how afraid I always am.

This might not apply to anyone but me. But I’ve learned what to do with fear. I didn’t learn through any effort of my own. I’ve just encountered people who know about this kind of thing, and they’ve given me advice. Their advice might sound silly to you, but it feels right to me.

Feel the fear. Sense the exact part of my body where the fear is. What are the sensations? How do I know I’m afraid? Does the fear move? Does it have a temperature? A size? Can I send breath into the fear? What happens if I move that part of my body? Have I felt this fear before? Did I feel it in my childhood?

Meditating and asking these questions is healing. At least for me. Maybe I encountered the people who gave me this advice for a reason. Maybe you’re reading this article for a reason.

I have no idea if this makes any sense to you. But for today, this is how I’m changing the world. I don’t understand it, and I’m not going to try. I’ve already done enough “figuring out” for one day.

This might all make more sense in hindsight. In the world we are creating, “weird” things like this will be normal and well-understood.

If you can relate to any of this, send me a message. I’d love to hear how you’re navigating these weird times, and I think navigation is better with community.

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The key is to find what they’re interested in. You can’t just ask them to do something difficult for the sake of doing something difficult. It has to be meaningful.

I think there’s a whole class of people like this in our culture. From the outside, it might look like they’re slacking off, but they’re really just bored with our culture. The whole idea of getting a job. Or even the idea of starting their own business. It’s just not very interesting.

Maybe they’re still living with their parents. Maybe they work part-time and keep their expenses low. They are certainly not saving for retirement, or saving up to buy a house.

A lot of them have dreams, but they know they’re unrealistic. Maybe they like music, writing, gardening, board games, pottery, or fitness. But making a “career” out of those things is not worth the effort. Not because it’s too hard (and it is too hard), but because having a “career” is not all it’s cracked up to be.

What would happen if all these disengaged people got together?

I think there’s wisdom here. Cultures need to evolve or die. And the people who are bored with our culture are exactly the people who might know how to change it. If they figured out why they are disengaged, they could use their collective power to do something about it.

I’m serious.

Send me all the bored people you know. Maybe we can figure something out together.

And to the people who aren’t bored with our culture, the ones in power, the “leaders”: you’d better pay attention. You would do well to tap into the power of the bored. At the very least, a massive labour force is waiting for you, if you can make the work meaningful. We all know what can happen if people are disengaged for too long. Crime. Revolt.

But let’s not put the blame on our leaders. Their responsibility is to keep things running smoothly. As people on the “outside”, it’s our responsibility to bring the energy of change. This is not a responsibility we should ignore.

Bored people unite.

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In the larger story of the Bible, this was supposed to be the triumphant moment for Isreal. They had sinned, then God exiled them, and now they are returning to Jerusalem. The books of Ezra and Nehemiah describe the return.

This was supposed to be like returning to the Garden of Eden. The new Jerusalem was supposed to be heaven on earth. They were supposed to turn all their weapons into farming equipment, and children were supposed to be completely safe amongst snakes and lions. It should have been the end of sin and death.

That’s what the returning exiles were hoping for. Instead, they encountered hostile locals, rebuilt a temple that wasn’t as good as the original, kept sinning, and always had to stand guard, weapons in hand.

Clearly, something went wrong. Ezra the priest had a theory about this. He thought it was because they kept marrying foreigners. Somewhere in the Torah, God tells the people not to marry foreigners when they enter the promised land. The reason? God knew the foreigners worshipped false gods, and the Israelites’ faith was weak. The Israelites would turn away from God and worship their spouse’s false gods.

Centuries later, Ezra, Nehemiah, and a bunch of Israelites are returning to that same promised land. And Ezra sees that there are many foreign husbands and wives among them. That must be the problem!

I don’t think so. The book of Ruth clearly shows that marrying foreigners can be a great thing. I’m told that the book of Ruth was written in the era of Ezra and Nehemiah. Someone disagreed with Ezra and wrote a story about it. Luckily, the book of Ruth was included in the Bible.

Here’s what I think the real problem was. When Ezra and the Israelite exiles returned to Judah, they encountered locals. These are the Samaritans. If you read the book of Kings, you find out that the Samaritans are actually Israelites. They split off from Israel in the era of king Solomon.

When the Samaritans saw people were rebuilding the temple in Jerusalem, they wanted to help. But the leaders of the exiles didn’t allow it. This was a mistake. If they wanted to set up the Kingdom of God, they should have included everyone.

The Samaritans were angry that they were left out, so they tried to sabotage the rebuilding efforts. This is why the exiles had to stand on guard and always carry weapons. It’s their own fault for excluding the Samaritans in the first place.

The exiles had it backwards. They wanted to live in a world where they could turn all their weapons into farm equipment, but they weren’t willing to do what it takes to create that world.

They wanted God to destroy their enemies so they could live in peace. But God wanted them to make peace with their enemies.

Instead, the exiles focused on following “the rules” as they saw them. They thought following the rules would please God, and then God would help them. But they followed the rules without regard to the human cost. Following the rules became more important than loving your neighbour. Many years later, Jesus rebelled against these rule enforcers.

It’s never too late to turn weapons into farm equipment. The world is full of examples of people fighting wars because they think it will lead to peace. What would happen if the governments of the world turned their military equipment into farm equipment?

In ancient Jerusalem, what would have happened if the Jews turned their swords into plows?

This is where it gets scary. The truth is, you never know. You could set up a blacksmith shop out in the open, and let your enemies watch you turn your swords into plows. They could be so confused that they’d stop fighting. Or they could decide to massacre you and your family and take all your stuff. You don’t know.

I’ve written about this in previous articles, but it bears repeating. The Bible asks us to choose peace, even if it’s dangerous. Jesus did the peaceful thing even though he knew it would get him killed. I didn’t think Ezra and Nehemiah would bring me back to this point, but here we are.

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People think solar panels are sustainable, but they are made of non-renewable resources, and we use fossil fuels to mine those resources.

What about wind turbines? They’re made of huge amounts of steel and concrete, which are non-renewable and have a high carbon footprint.

Electric cars? Batteries are made of non-renewable lithium.

The insulation batts that make our homes energy efficient? Manufacturing them requires coal and gas.

What about electricity? All the wires in your house are made of copper, which is non-renewable.

Indoor plumbing? All your pipes and drains are made of metal or petroleum-based plastic. Both are non-renewable.

Our modern lifestyle relies on materials that are going to run out. Even if you don’t believe in climate change, you have to admit there is a limited supply of oil and metal. Our society doesn’t function without these things. At our current rate of consumption, we’ll run out sometime in the next 200 years.

How did I arrive at that number? I googled “how long until we run out of _______?”. Fill in the blank with various materials we rely on. It’s hard to get a straight answer, but on average, 200 years seemed like a good estimate to me.

It will happen slowly. Material prices will go up until they are too high to afford. Supply chains will fall apart, bit by bit. It will become more and more difficult to run the machinery and factories that produce these materials. One mine at a time, one factory at a time, one oil drill at a time, our civilization will shut down.

(unless we colonize Mars, which I find unlikely)

Then, we’ll be back to the Stone Age. But I don’t like that term. It suggests that we’ll be running around in stone cars like Fred Flinstone. I prefer the term Ecological Age. Everything we do will be truly ecological, truly sustainable. And we won’t have electricity, gas, or plumbing.

Will this be a good thing?

Many of us assume this will be bad. We’ll live in horrible conditions. We won’t be able to heat our homes in winter, or cool our homes in summer. Our diets will be boring. Maybe we’ll starve. Our lives will be uncomfortable and short.

If we suddenly had to switch to Ecological Age technology today, we would all be miserable. We are not ready for that. If we were, we could all give up on electricity today. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Many of us wouldn’t survive.

Survival is one thing, but thriving is another. Yes, we should learn how to feed ourselves and stay warm using only Ecological Age technology. But beyond that, we should learn how to be happy in those conditions.

Human beings lived this way for a hundred thousand years. Were they depressed the whole time? Did ancient humans complain about not having electricity and plumbing?

All the evidence suggests that people were quite happy to live in those conditions. Where I live in Canada, Indigenous people lived ecologically before Europeans came. All the stories say they were relatively happy. Maybe happier than the Europeans.

How did they stay happy? I think it’s fairly clear. They had these six things:

1. Robust spiritual practices

2. Skilled story tellers

3. Songs and dances everyone knew

4. Communities who knew how to get along

5. Knowledge of the natural world

6. Arts and crafts

Ancient cultures teach us that these things are necessary. Not only to they keep us happy, but they keep us alive. They keep us fully human.

Traditional cultures were better at these six things than we are now. In the modern world, instead of story tellers, we have Netflix. Instead of communal singing, we have Spotify. Instead of learning how to get along, we live alone in a polarized world. You get the picture.

The good news is we can practice these things before transitioning to the Ecological Age. We don’t have to wait until society collapses. These things will make us happier right now. In fact, this might be the perfect medicine to heal our culture, end the mental health epidemic, and stop wars.

If we practice these things, we will rebuild our culture. And, we will learn to raise future generations who will be happy to transition to the Ecological Age.

We have time. No need to transition before we’re ready. Electricity is a great thing. I’m using electricity to write this, and you’re using electricity to read it. It is a wonderful tool. And so is our ability to have hot showers and flush toilets.

But this is just one era of human history.

The Indigenous people in my area talk about the Seven Generations principle. With every decision we make, we should consider our impact on people seven generations into the future. Seven generations is about 200 years. I’ll bet that the Ecological Age will begin by then, if not sooner.

It’s a good thing we can prepare for that while making ourselves happier.

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In Noah’s time, the whole world was in danger. The solution was to build an ark. In Joseph’s time, everyone in and around Egypt was in danger, and the solution was to stockpile food. I recently read the book of Esther, in which all the Jews were in danger. The solution was for Esther to petition the king.

If I listed every instance of this pattern, this would be a very long post. I think it’s safe to say that the Bible is interested in saving everyone from death.

This pattern occurs many times in the book of Daniel:

1. Daniel and his friends are in danger because they refuse to break Jewish food laws. But a miracle saves them.

2. The king threatens to kill all the magicians because they can’t interpret the king’s dream. But Daniel interprets the dream and saves everyone.

3. Daniel’s friends refuse to worship a false god, and the king throws them into a furnace. But they miraculously survive.

4. Then two kings are in danger. One saves himself by humbling himself before God. The other doesn’t.

5. Finally, Daniel refuses to bow down to the king, so the king throws him into the lion’s den. But God prevents the lions from eating Daniel.

Danger and rescue. Over and over. Why?

The people who wrote the Bible, and specifically the book of Daniel, had one danger in mind. The Jewish people were being oppressed. The world was being run by corrupt empires. They were obsessed with figuring out how to rescue themselves from this danger. Daniel says rescue will come in the form of God’s “kingdom”.

In the Bible, rescue comes from God. It doesn’t come from “good” people stepping in to destroy the “bad” people. Daniel is a good person, but he does nothing to overthrow the corrupt empire. In fact, he works for the empire.

But his work for the empire is second to his commitment to God. When the empire asks him to go against God by worshipping the king, he refuses. When the empire asks him to interpret a dream, he does. Even though the king is not going to like what he hears. God is not against interpreting dreams.

There are plenty of corrupt empires in the world today, and they cause a lot of suffering. The book of Daniel has a theory about how to fix this: Be a good person, don’t let the empire corrupt your morals, tell the truth (even when it’s scary), and God will take care of the rest.

You don’t have to plan a revolution.

What does that mean? Does it mean I shouldn’t try to stop violent, corrupt empires from hurting people? I don’t think so. Earlier in the Bible, that’s exactly what Esther did. But she was a queen. She had opportunities most people didn’t.

I think this means, if you’re going to try stopping an empire, you must not compromise on your morals. No violence. Never think, “the ends justify the means.” It is never okay to do something bad to achieve a good outcome. That’s what it means to be committed to God, first and foremost. You are responsible for your actions, and God is responsible for the outcome.

This is meant to give us hope. Just like it gave hope to ancient Jews living under oppression. Even though it seems impossible, good will prevail. When it seems like the only way to stop the suffering is to form an army and overthrow the empire, there’s another path. But it requires miracles.

Late in Daniel’s life, he disobeyed the king. At that point in his life, he was a popular Jewish leader, and had experience dealing with multiple kings. Surely he could have inspired many young Jewish men to take up weapons and fight the government. At the very least, he could have asked his followers to protect him from the king’s punishment.

Instead, Daniel accepted his punishment. He willingly stepped into a den full of hungry lions. He knew that if God wanted Daniel to survive, he would survive. And he did.

That’s the kind of faith it takes to walk this path. I don’t think many of us have it. When push comes to shove, we’d compromise our morals to save ourselves. I know I would. The Bible asks more of us.

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This book is mainly about the downs.

The feeling of meaninglessness. Believing nothing you do matters. Being angry at the world. Losing the ability to think optimistic thoughts. How can we live through all this?

Looking for Purpose in the Dark is an exploration of that terrain. In a way, it’s a map. But like any real map, it won’t tell you where to go. It only shows what’s there. It is not about “finding” purpose. It’s about the process of looking.

If you’re like me, you’ve seen hundreds of ads for books and courses promising to help you find your purpose. Some of them even guarantee it. “Take this course and you’ll find your purpose and earn lots of money,” they say.

I can’t help you find your purpose or make money, but maybe I can help in one small way. The search has ups and downs. This book is about not getting stuck in the “downs” for too long.

It’s a strange book. I don’t know whether to call in fiction or nonfiction. It has poems and short stories scattered throughout. But they all connect to tell a larger story. I guess that’s the important part: it’s a story. It’s not a set of instructions, or a well-crafted argument, or an instruction manual.

It’s a short book. You could probably read the whole thing in one sitting if you wanted to.

Get the ebook here

It started with infatuation. The honeymoon phase. When I first started meditating, I meditated twice a day for ten minutes. I quickly bumped it up to twenty minutes, then thirty minutes. I was in love.

I noticed improvement. My brain chatter grew quieter, and I spent more time in the peaceful state of simply noticing my breath. I experienced longer and longer stretches of no thinking.

I even had some blissful out-of-body experiences. Once, it felt like my consciousness expanded to encompass the whole earth, not just my physical body. I was on the path to enlightenment.

But then my “improvement” stopped. And then it reversed. I spent entire meditation sessions lost in thought, and only noticed two or three breaths. I struggled to stay awake. It was uncomfortable to stay still for so long. I felt like I wasn’t meditating at all. I dreaded my meditation sessions.

For a full year, I continued with my grueling schedule. Thirty minutes of meditation, twice a day. But things didn’t improve. Finally, I thought, “Why am I forcing myself to do something I hate doing?” Then I stopped.

Since then, I’ve felt annoyed every time the subject of meditation comes up. I continued to hear all about the benefits of meditation. New books and studies kept appearing. Friends would tell me about their good experiences. “Good for you,” I thought.

And now, eight years later, I’m meditating again. But it’s different this time. Here are my rules for how to meditate when you hate meditating.

1: Don’t set a timer

Setting a timer makes you look forward to the end. In the middle of your meditation, it makes you wonder how much time is left. It makes you feel like a failure if you want to stop before the timer goes off.

Setting a timer breeds competition with yourself. When you’re setting the timer, you’ll judge yourself if you choose a short duration. You’ll try to impress yourself by setting a longer one. You’ll think, “the more meditation, the better!”

But that’s not how meditation works. One of the most important parts of meditation is to be in the moment. There is no such thing as “duration”. There is only now. A ten-second meditation can be just as effective as a 30 minute one.

The good thing about short meditations is that you can do them often. Dozens of times per day. Then, your whole life becomes more meditative.

Of course, the exception to this rule is if you have an appointment to get to, and you don’t want to miss it because you meditated too long.

2: Thinking isn’t failure

Meditation teachers tell you to notice your breath. Then, they say, “if you notice that you’re lost in thought, gently bring your attention back to your breath.” There’s one word in that sentence that I had trouble with: gently.

The implicit message is that you “should” notice your breath, and you “shouldn’t” be lost in thought. Noticing your breath is success, and being lost in thought is failure.

Failing a little is fine. I could “gently” bring my attention back to my breath for the first few months of meditation. But, a year into my meditation practice, I “failed” too much. When I only “succeed” once or twice during a meditation, I couldn’t be “gentle”. I was frustrated. I was angry at myself.

Everytime I began a meditation, I thought, “Alright, this time I’m going to do better. I’m going to notice my breath more and not get so lost in thought.” Then, I set the timer for 30 minutes and tried to notice my breath. Then, I noticed I was lost in thought. I’d glance down at the timer to see there was only ten minutes left. I’d spent two thirds of the meditation completely lost in thought. Total failure.

And this is months after having blissful experiences of no thinking and complete peace. What a let-down.

Then I heard a meditation teacher say that you could notice your thoughts instead of noticing your breath. That was a game-changer. The thing to avoid, according to this teacher, was “thinking without knowing you’re thinking”. So it was okay to be lost in thought, as long as you were aware of it.

But let’s take that a step further. How about: it’s okay to be lost in thought. Period. When you notice you’re lost in thought, and that you’ve been unaware of your thoughts, that’s an opportunity. What were you thinking about? What random train of thought did your brain take you on? Or was your brain focussed on one problem the whole time? This is an opportunity to get to know your brain.

3: Sleep isn’t failure

Have you seen the research on naps? Napping might be better for your health than meditating. If you’re tired and falling asleep during a meditation, lie down and have a nap. Don’t try to force yourself to stay awake. You might even get bonus spiritual insights from a dream.

4: Be comfortable

I don’t know about you, but it takes effort for me to sit cross legged and hold my back straight. To be relaxed, I need a chair with a backrest. A couch is even better. I enjoy a good slouch. Or lying down.

You get the gist

Basically, my rules for meditation are: there are no rules. It took me an embarrassingly long time to figure that out. I hated meditation because I thought I was failing at it. I was uncomfortable, bored, and angry at myself. But I only felt that way because I thought I needed to follow certain rules. Once I got rid of those rules, I could meditate again.

I know some people wouldn’t call napping on the couch a “meditation”. But I’m not interested in what those people think. I’m interested in cultivating stillness and peace. If I have to break all the meditation rules to get there, so be it.

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I did extreme sports as a kid. Many people have a misconception about extreme sports, and it annoyed me. They’d say things like, “I’ll bet you’ve broken a lot of bones!”

I’d reply, “Nope.”

They’d say something like, “Well, you must be very lucky then.”

After that, I probably nodded and smiled. But inside, I felt angry and misunderstood. They might as well say, “Wow, you must be completely stupid and reckless to even consider doing these stunts.”

I can understand where they came from. They might have seen me climb on top of the monkey bars, walk along the bars like a balance beam eight feet in the air, then do a backflip off the bars and land on the gravel below. If a normal person attempted that, they would likely break a bone. But I was perfectly safe. As safe as walking down the stairs.

If you haven’t done extreme sports, you might not understand how doing a backflip from an eight foot high balance beam could be completely safe. To help you understand, here’s all the training that went into learning how to do this:

• For years, I did backflips into water. As long as you jump into the water and don’t land back on the diving board, it’s completely safe. The diving board was only 2 feet above the water. Hundreds of backflips over several years. They became as easy as getting out of bed. (Actually, easier. I was a teenager, after all.)

• One year, in the winter, I made a huge pile of fluffy snow next to our backyard tree fort. The fort was about 6 feet high, and the pile of snow was almost equal. I did a backflip off the tree fort and landed in the snow pile. I probably landed on my butt or my knees a few times, but the snow cushioned my fall. Easy as getting out of bed.

• After hundreds of backflips into the pile of snow, I was landing on my feet every time. Imagine it: Backflip. Climb out of the pile of snow. Shovel fresh snow onto the pile. Climb into the tree fort. Backflip. Repeat. I did this for an hour and a half every day that had proper snow conditions. I enjoy boring, repetitive tasks. It’s not much different from practicing scales on the guitar, or knitting.

• After landing on my feet too many times to count, I stopped shoveling fresh snow onto the pile. After every backflip, my landing packed down the pile of snow a little more. Until, dozens of backflips later, I was landing on hard ground.

At no point in this process was I in any danger. If I had skipped to the end, I probably would have hurt myself. Like putting a three-month-old baby on top of a ladder and expecting them to climb down. That’s dangerous. So is doing a backflip from an eight foot high balance beam. But if you take the proper steps to learn the skill, it’s safe. Climbing down a ladder can be safe. Backflips from high places can be safe.

Courage and caution. Back to Esther.

Esther had a problem. She was a queen, but she was secretly Jewish. Her king issued an edict ordering everyone in the kingdom to kill Jews. What could she do?

Her king was a sensitive guy. One of those kings who would kill you if you bothered him at the wrong time. Nobody sees him unless they’re invited. Not even the queen.

But Esther needed to talk to the king to save the Jews. She risked her life in doing so. Courage.

But what did she say to the king? Did she tell him he’s a horrible king and that he should reverse his edict? No. She invited him to a banquet dinner. Caution.

At the banquet dinner, the king knew Esther wanted something. So the king asked, and Esther replied that she only wanted him to come to another banquet. Even more caution.

At the second banquet, Esther finally deemed it reasonable to make her request. And still, she spoke cautiously. Thus, she saved the Jews.

We often think we need more courage. I’ve even written a few songs about it. Self-help authors like Brene Brown have written whole books about it. We think, “If everyone were a little more courageous, the world wouldn’t be so messed up.” But maybe the secret to being courageous is to use more caution. The more preparation, the more thought we put into the details, the more likely our courageous acts will succeed.

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But is anything really outside my control? Or am I just pretending that certain things are outside my control, so I can ignore them and continue living my privileged life?

The United States is in conflict about immigration enforcement right now. But I’m Canadian. Do I have a right to interfere? Maybe not, but do I have a responsibility to have an opinion? If I stay informed, will that help me prevent similar conflicts in Canada?

Those are good questions, but beneath the surface, there’s another question. For me, on an emotional level, I’m asking myself: If I stay neutral on this issue, will my friends disown me? When evil is involved, being neutral is just as bad as being on the wrong side.

I can hear my inner critic saying, “People are dying in the streets, and you’re concerned about your friends liking you? How could you be so selfish?”

I am concerned about people dying in the streets. But I feel I have no control over that. I have a lot of control over whether my friends like me. And if I’m ever going to have a positive effect on the world, it will be through my social network.

So. Part of me thinks I’m selfish to worry about people liking me, and part of me thinks it’s good to worry about people liking me.

Part of me thinks I should form an opinion on American politics, and part of me thinks I shouldn’t.

I am a walking contradiction. I used to think my ability to see both sides would allow me to play a mediator role. I could help people understand each other. Now, I’m wondering: do I even understand myself?

This is where we need a third voice. Internally, I have two opposing sides. This is mirrored in the external world. There must be a third option. A way to reconcile without destroying each other. A coherent worldview that makes sense of my internal conflicts.

I believe Jesus was an expert at finding the third voice. He lived in a time of great conflict. Religious leaders were divided into factions, and each faction believed it had the correct interpretation of sacred texts. Back then, politics and religion weren’t so separate.

Each one of these factions was expecting the Messiah to come and confirm that their interpretation was right. But Jesus came and said they were all wrong. That’s what got him killed.

That’s what the third voice does. It doesn’t take sides. It goes beneath the surface and overturns the foundations of all “sides”. It’s not pretty.

But Jesus also offered everyone a new foundation. The question is: What is this foundation, and how can we build our lives on it? I don’t think this question can be answered easily.

One thing is for sure. Jesus didn’t avoid the responsibility. He didn’t stay in Nazareth his whole life, thinking, “I have no control over this conflict. All sides have a good point, and it’s impossible to determine who’s right.” He had strong, offensive words for all those political and religious leaders.

He took responsibility for the conflict, but he also didn’t take sides.

So maybe my approach isn’t great. I use “not taking sides” as an excuse to avoid responsibility. But Jesus shows it’s possible to not take sides and take full responsibility. In this moment, given this political climate, what are my strong, offensive words?

I should do some research on the issue first, right? But I tried, and it didn’t go well. I came to the conclusion that I would have to be a fully trained lawyer, specializing in immigration law and policing procedures, to understand everything involved. I’m a musician, a carpenter, and a writer. It is not my role to know all the details.

There are teams of lawyers in the United States working full-time on multiple ongoing court cases against ICE. I am not qualified to have an opinion on who should win those court cases.

What is my role? After briefly thinking about the issue, I am back where I started. I don’t know what to think, and I don’t believe I have any control.

If Jesus were here, he would captivate crowds with his words. He’d sum up this whole situation in one or two sentences that would make us all think hard about our role in the conflict.

His words would be so powerful that some people would drop everything and quit their jobs to follow him around. Others would hate him so much that they’d want to assassinate him.

When talking about ancient tax policy in Jerusalem, he said, “Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s, and render unto God what is God’s.” Not taking sides, but offering strong words that make everyone think.

One thing is clear: Jesus used words, not violence.

I am not Jesus, but I can try to find the right words. Words that express love and truth without taking sides. Words that I can be confident in, even though I don’t have a law degree. After meditating, here are the words that came:

If we win the fight using weapons of hate, then truly we have lost.
If instead we use weapons of love, even if we lose, truly we have won.
Are we willing to lose it all?
Are we willing to lose in a loving way?
In losing, we gain everything.

Those aren’t the words I expected to find. Part of me still thinks I should take sides. But those words are for everyone, on both sides of the issue.

Unfortunately, this doesn’t soothe my fear of being disowned. People might accuse those words of being tone-deaf. Of being neutral when only one side is acting morally. But soothing my fear is not the point.

The point is to be loving. And I know everyone thinks they are being loving. Both sides accuse the other side of being hateful. I hope my words aren’t used in that way. This is not a competition to see who is more loving. Competing to win the “love” competition is a hateful thing to do. The truly loving ones will allow themselves to lose.

I hope we can all think about how these words apply to us. Here’s how they apply to me. Am I willing to stay loving, even if I lose my friends? That could happen if I refuse to hate their enemies. I have to accept that possibility, and stay loving anyway.

Here’s another one: Am I willing to be wrong? If someone accuses my words of being tone-deaf, they might be right. Maybe I should take sides. Maybe that’s the right thing to do. Am I willing to admit that everything I’ve written is wrong? Am I willing to sacrifice all of it in the name of love?

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The basic idea in Ecclesiastes is that everything is “vanity”. At least, that’s how the King James version translates it. Other versions call it “meaningless”, “smoke”, “mere breath”, and “futility”. You get the gist. Everything is here one day, then gone the next. Trying to make things better is like herding the wind.

However, the author, sometimes called “the Teacher”, or “Qohelet”, isn’t completely nihilistic. He says that pleasure is better than suffering, and wisdom is better than folly. But not by much. In the end, none of these things creates any lasting meaning.

One reaction is to feel uplifted by this book. Here is an author who understands what it feels like to believe life is pointless. A wise elder who is not trying to cheer you up, but speaks perfectly to your pain. There’s truth in hopelessness and depression. The world really is a futile place. What a relief it is to hear someone admit it.

But Qohelet goes a step further. Just because the world is futile, doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself and be grateful for what you have. It’s still good to seek wisdom. Another relief. This message could be very helpful to someone experiencing depression.

However, I can also imagine this book being a downer. If you are feeling optimistic and hopeful about a world full of possibility and meaning, it wouldn’t feel great to hear someone say all of your hopes are meaningless. If you’re excited about your life, Qohelet will remind you that nothing you create will last, and you’re going to die just like everyone else. That could take the wind out of your sails.

Why was this book included in the Bible? Surely it’s not only to make depressed people slightly happier, and happy people slightly depressed.

Is the entire book a parody of human wisdom? Qohelet is portrayed as a truly wise human. But look where his wisdom led him. Not exactly the paradise we hoped for.

This is where the final sentences in the book are important. Another author pipes in to comment on everything Qohelet said. This second author says the words of wise men are like goads. That endless devotion to books is tiresome. In the end, the only thing that matters is to fear God and keep his commandments.

And now we can see how this fits into the bigger story. The Bible is not about seeking human wisdom. Adam and Eve sought wisdom, but they did it on their own terms, with no trust in God. Solomon, the wisest king in Israel’s history, was responsible for Israel splitting in two and going to war against each other. He disobeyed many commandments.

Human wisdom is not enough. Maybe that’s the whole point. Ecclesiastes shows us how far wisdom can take us, and it’s not very far.

But what could be better than wisdom? Is it “fearing God and keeping his commandments”? That’s not a very satisfying answer. As Qohelet admits, following God’s commandments doesn’t guarantee a good life. Just ask Job.

I don’t know about you, but all this thinking and questioning feels a little like running in circles.

Let’s take a breath.

I’m noticing that I’m trying to use human wisdom (my brain) to understand a book that might be a parody of human wisdom. It’s true. There is something absurd about endless thinking, books, arguments, and ideas. It’s time to get out of our heads.

Go outside.

Breath deeply.

Delight in your surroundings.

When Jesus struggled, he went up a mountain, or to a garden, to pray. He didn’t lock himself in a library to study books.

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To change your life, you first need to make space. Being busy is great when you have a clear direction. But to change direction, you need to slow down, or stop. It seems healthy to do this at least once a year. A yearly course-correct. If you’re like me, and you don’t know what direction to go, you might do this every week, or every day.

I’m calling it “clearing the way”. There are so many ways to do this. You can clear space in your calendar, in your home, and in your psyche. I want to talk about one way of clearing space I have a lot of experience with: Internet and technology use.

Over half of Americans want to cut down on phone usage, and many of them believe they are addicted. So this is a big one. Cutting down on screen time clears a lot of space.

On July 27th, 2025, I went “sober” from my most addictive technology behaviors. Since then, I have followed rules I created for myself: no “scrolling”, no watching movies or TV by myself, only going on YouTube for research (i.e. tutorials for car repairs), only listening to podcasts while doing chores, and absolutely no video games.

In this post, I’ll tell you how I succeeded this time, unlike my dozens of previous attempts to quit. Then, I’ll share how it has affected my life.

How I successfully cut down on screen time

First, let’s recognize how difficult this is. Keeping you addicted is a trillion-dollar industry. The goal of social media, news media, and streaming is to keep you addicted to screens, so you spend more time looking at ads, and keep paying those monthly subscriptions. They’ve got teams of extremely smart people, and artificial intelligence, all aimed at this goal. So if you’re still addicted, don’t be so hard on yourself.

If you’re like me, you’ve tried to cut back on screen time many times. Maybe it worked for a month or two. But screen time slowly creeps back into your life, and three months later it’s as if nothing has changed. I can’t count how many times I went through this cycle. Dozens.

How did I finally succeed? This may seem like an overreaction, but bear with me. I started working with the 12 steps of addiction recovery. The time-tested process used by Alcoholics Anonymous groups everywhere.

You might be thinking, “My screen addiction isn’t really an addiction. I’m not like an alcoholic. It’s not so bad. I don’t need to go through the 12 steps. That’s a bit much.” I hate to break it to you, but that’s exactly what millions of alcoholics have said for a hundred years. It’s literally written in the Alcoholics Anonymous handbook, of which I am a proud owner.

It might be time to humble yourself, and admit that you have a problem. You’re not alone. Roughly half of the population has this problem. It’s the addiction of our time. It’s like in 1965, when half of the population smoked cigarettes.

Here’s step one of the 12 steps: We admit that we are powerless over our addiction. We have a lot of evidence of our powerlessness. Every day, we want to look at screens less, but we don’t. Willpower isn’t enough.

This is difficult to admit. You have to say to yourself, “I can’t quit. I am not strong enough.” Yes, it’s paradoxical that the first step to quitting is to admit that you can’t quit. Trust the process.

The second step is to hand this problem over to a higher power. Since willpower isn’t enough, we need help. As with most serious problems, the solution is spiritual.

If you were expecting “one simple trick” to solve your problem, I’m sorry to disappoint.

There are many books about the 12 steps, so I won’t explain the whole process. But here are the parts of the process that worked well for me:

• I didn’t just read a Substack post and decide to change my life. For a solid month, I read multiple “12 step” books, and journaled only about this topic. I bought a journal specifically for this. I dove deep.

• I attended a few ITAA meetings online (Internet and Technology Addicts Anonymous).

• I reflected on all the screen-based activities I’ve been addicted to. There’s an embarrassing number of bad video games on the list.

• I reflected on all the times I’ve tried, and failed, to quit.

• I reflected on the negative impact this has had on myself and others.

• I prayed.

When I was a kid, our school had a “T.V. Turn-Off Challenge”. The idea was to stop watching T.V. for a full week. My friends and I accepted the challenge, and it was one of the most fun weeks of the year. The week after, we all decided we wanted to keep the challenge going. “Let’s never watch T.V. again!”

But that didn’t last. At some point, on Monday or Tuesday evening, we all started watching T.V. again. That was the first of my dozens of failed attempts to quit.

Though screen addiction has been around for a while, our society is finally starting to use the word “addiction” to describe our compulsive screen use. It’s time to take that word seriously and treat this addiction like any other. If it worked for me, it might work for you. If you’re struggling with internet and technology addiction, feel free to send me a private message.

How this has changed my life

Addiction changes the brain. It affects areas of our lives we might not realize. I didn’t think my addiction had anything to do with my lack of purpose. But I was wrong. Healing an addiction heals the brain and changes everything.

Here are some of the effects I’ve noticed:

• I’m more optimistic than I have been in years.

• I started meditating again, even though I usually hate meditating (more on that in a future post).

• Self-esteem has gone up.

• I’m sleeping better (especially when I’m home alone with nobody to judge me for how late I stay up).

• Life feels more sacred.

It hasn’t solved all my problems. But it has made all my problems feel solvable. That’s the most important thing.

A world full of unsolvable problems is no fun. There’s no hope, no forward movement, no meaning. You can still entertain yourself, and have a shallow version of “fun”, but it can’t compete with the shadow of hopelessness.

A world full of solvable problems can still suck. You can still get knocked down, fail, and experience tragedy. But at least it’s not completely hopeless. You can still work towards something meaningful.

And again, you might not think that addiction has anything to do with hope. You might think your hopelessness is the only rational response to the world. But the addicted brain is a tricky thing. We don’t always know how far the effects go.

Most importantly, what will emerge if you clear this space in your life? How many extra hours per day will you have? What will you do with your newfound boredom? What adventure awaits once you erase the false adventures of the screen? What would happen if everyone in our society cut down on their screen time?

Here’s my optimistic prediction: Awareness of screen addiction is going to continue to rise. The ITAA organization will grow exponentially. More people will turn to spirituality to solve their addiction problem. And just like the tobacco industry, and more recently the alcohol industry, the social media and streaming industry will experience a sharp decline. AI will only speed this up, as more people realize that this technology is only here to keep you addicted.

With more people turning to spirituality, many more things will change. Polarization will decline, and politics will become less of a circus show. Social media has long been the main driver of the madness.

What else will change? The sky is the limit.

If you thought your screen addiction wasn’t a big problem, think again.

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Alphabet, in order
Begin the lines of Lamentations.
Couldn't tell you why.
Different theories abound:
Easy to remember?
Fun to write?
Good for teaching kids?
Hearkens to completeness?

I don't really care, I
Just want the truth, I
Keep circling back, I
Listen.

Maybe it's
Not important
Once you
Pay attention
Quietly

Remember Israel
Suffering under oppression
Totally devoted, dependant, desperate
Using what they have:

Voices.
Words.
Xes. 
Yes, even
Zeds.

The book of Lamentations is mostly made of acrostic poems. Meaning, the first letter of each line spells out the Hebrew alphabet. I figure, the best way to understand why they did that is to try it myself. The poem above is the result.

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I wrote a post last night
About spirituality in every small decision we make.
I meditated as I wrote,
Finding the deeper layers.

I wrote about accessing those layers
In every free moment of our days.
I’m no expert
But I want to get better.

I thought I’d reached the bottom
But this morning, I deleted everything I wrote.
There’s a deeper layer still

Beneath my desire to impress,
My imitations of famous people,
My brain’s loops,
My fears

Once, when I was in high school, I planned a joke ahead of time. A day or two later, the moment finally came to tell it: “What’s the deal with jam jars? Jam coats the rim and glues the lid on, am I right? I don’t even bother twisting it closed!”

Oh boy, did that joke fall flat. I remember someone calling me an idiot.

I could have said the truth: “What’s the deal with fitting in? I feel like we’re in a contest to see who’s coolest. I’m really scared I’m ranked at the bottom. Does anyone else feel that way?” 

But I wasn’t aware of this truth at the time. Even if I was, would I have had the courage?

Here we are on Substack
Some of us, joking about jam jars
Trying to fit in
Unaware of the truth

So I’d like to practice awareness.
Not because I’ll share the truth on Substack
And climb the coolness rankings

But because I want my little decisions
Many times every day
To be true

Should I go outside?
Write a poem?
Start a business?
Email a client?
Work?
Exercise?
Plan my week?
Play music?

No to-do list, productivity app, or fancy moleskine planner will decide for me.

But something tells me I can change the way I answer all those little questions. Bring spirit into them. 

And if I do, I’ll change my life. 

And maybe more.

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