'NYC Fit Living'

Consider this, old friend— a truth wrapped in myth, a revelation disguised as a story. Once upon a timeless moment, a single drop slipped from the vastness of the Ocean and began to believe it was something separate. It thought it was just a drop— a tiny “me” drifting alone amid countless other droplets. And in that forgetting, a great and shimmering dream began. It danced as rain upon the breath of the wind, fell into rivers, and swam through silver streams, each new form whispering seductively… “This is who you are.” And the drop believed— until believing crystallized into the heavy armor of identity. In this dream of separation, the drop struggled to find its place among the many. It compared. It feared. It clung. It fought upstream against its own illusions. It looked out at the painted world and said, “Everything is other. Everything is outside of me.” And so the dream deepened, layer upon luminous layer. But one day, something ancient stirred. A memory—soft as moonlight, subtle a...

Think about this, old friend:  “Attunement” is a quiet light beneath the waves of your life, shimmering, guiding, yet asking nothing. It does not chase, it does not strain, and it does not calculate. In its presence, things unfold naturally—success, clarity, harmony—without the weight of effort. In the Tao, they call this wei wu wei: effortless effort, doing without doing. The mind, however, is always trying. It reaches, it chases, it pushes, it doubts: “When I get it, then I’ll have it.” And in this pursuit, the prize keeps drifting farther ahead, always staying just out of reach. The mind resists the current, weary and tense. Attunement does not fight. Attunement does not try. Attunement is. It flows in harmony with intention, attuned to the law of receiving, allowing life to flow effortlessly to meet what is needed. Imagine searching for a parking space. The mind doubts, hopes, and calculates—you might or might not find one. Attunement steps back from the chase. It observes sile...

  Look around, old friend. A whole civilization lost inside its own head — hypnotized not by outer screens, but by the inner screen. We treat thinking like a form of entertainment, a pastime to fill the silence, a way to stay busy so we don’t feel the vastness underneath. When we’re engaged in an activity, our thoughts tend to focus on the task at hand. If we’re planning something, our thoughts project into the future. But when we sit still… when the body is quiet, and the world softens… the mind turns on its own projector. Flash. A thought appears. Flash. Another scene. Flash. A memory, a fantasy, a worry, a replay. And like obedient audience members, we sit there, popcorn in hand, following every storyline as if it’s gospel. We jump from thought to thought like channels on a television nobody remembers turning on. And the tragedy? We think the content of these thoughts is us. But consider this: What if you didn’t jump into the scenes? What if you didn’t become the characters? Wha...

"Dear friend, think about this:" For thousands of years, people have been trying to figure out what they already are. Brilliant minds have chanted, calculated, meditated, theorized, and optimized in boardrooms, labs, temples, and monasteries— However, the ageless murmur of wisdom never changes: You are complete already. You are already enlightened. There is nowhere to climb. no distant temple to reach, no cave deep enough, no meditation potent enough to give you what you already are. The paradox is beautifully simple: Truth needs no improvement— only the removal of what obscures it. The Sun Behind the Clouds Consider the sun, a massive ball of fire that never goes out. We refer to the sky as being dark when clouds cover it, as though the sun has ceased to shine. However, its brilliance remains intact. The only thing that is blocked is our vision. The same is true of your inner light. Enlightenment cannot be attained, it is revealed. Remove the clouds, and the radiance that wa...

  Consider this; Compassion is more than just words—it's a remembrance. It blooms only after the heart has gone through its own fire. For the weary soul wandering the ego’s labyrinth, trapped by programs and conditioning we never chose, compassion is not just an idea—it's an awakening. A gentle light emerges from the ashes of our illusions, a quiet knowing surfaces from wrestling with the shadows of the mind, and deep wisdom is gained during the quiet nights of our becoming. When we start to loosen the shackles of the ego—even for just a moment—we feel the weight we've carried for lifetimes. We feel how strongly old patterns cling, how deeply the dream of opposites has embedded itself into our bones. We acknowledge the sacred effort needed to awaken, even if only briefly, in a world that constantly lulls us back to sleep. And in that recognition… compassion flowers. Because we remember the journey. We have stumbled through the same darkness, slipped into the same illusions,...

Be still… dear friend, and notice. Beyond the hum of thought and the noise of becoming, there exists a silence—ancient, luminous, and untouched. It is the still point between all opposites—between left and right, effort and surrender, pain and pleasure, and between what you call you and what you call the world. You are the river flowing between its banks—the current of consciousness weaving through both hemispheres of the mind. For lifetimes, you have searched for what was never lost. You have wandered through dreams of form and face, chasing reflections upon a hypnotic stream. Forgetting became a rhythm—an echo looping in the subconscious, a veil softly drawn over the infinite. And yet, even in forgetting, something within you remembers. The silent witness waits—patiently and unchanging—watching the play unfold. One day, you will awaken—not into something new, but into what has always been.  You will see the dream for what it was—a shimmer, a mirage of your own making. Come home a...