Alain De Botton On The Fear Of Happiness.

Maybe because we’ve grown accustomed to our poverty, become acquainted with our loneliness, and developed such an intimate relationship with our sadness we are unable to accept the possibility, and actuality, of being happy. A small part of ourselves may struggle believing its deserved, strangely fearing the life we deeply crave. We are so quick […]

Blaise Cendrars on The Beauty of Language and Fortifying yourself in Love and Solitude

“The impulse to write things down is a particularly compulsive one, inexplicable to those who do not share it, useful only accidentally, only secondarily in the way that any compulsion tries to justify itself.” Capturing the strange desire, to document the world, contained in the heart of every writer; considered the source of our migraines, […]

James Baldwin on The Creative Process

Carrying 4 novels in a duffel bag on a boat to Paris, James Baldwin, age 24, hope to escape racism and live in a creative incubus that allowed him to write; shortly after his arrival he lost those collections. Losing those novels symbolized a letting go of the identity forced upon him by his peculiar […]

The Blog’s Mission

The writings are a space for intellectual and spiritual wondering about the meaning of life. Exploring the meaning of love, following our divine purpose, and creating a space of vulnerability that encourages people to explore the depths of their soul through the words of thought leaders, mystics, intellectuals, and my own personal discoveries. A documentation […]

A journey of Self-Love

I am moved to heal the wounds doubts inflicts upon me; doubt is required to have a successful inner life. I can never know the strength of my sanity if it has never been challenged. The world bombards our mind with assumptions early then, in our ignorance, we move through the world carrying everyone else’s […]

Every death ain’t goodbye

This essay was written 122 days after the death of my father. It has now been 661 days since my father has passed. I am keeping the title of the essay because I am being guided by a force of indelible patience and magnanimity, so spiritually we continue to commune. I loved him — naturally. […]

Ashton was a baby; we were all babies

Strange words — such as empathy, compassion, and love — must be defined, so we can begin living those definitions. We can not continue living with superficial connections; without seeing the value of connecting to another neighboring solitude — we become lonely with no sense of ourselves — empathizing with our children becomes impossible. Times […]