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Discovering the Connection Between Your Perception of Reality and How You Feel

When trying to understand something, it helps to break it apart, define it specifically, and distinguish it from other things. So often, when discussing facets of the mind, we try to distinguish functions the brain performs and categorize them within their specific attributes. Brain imaging and scans have also determined that different brain regions seem connected to specific traits or functions. So, it is understandable to think of emotions as different or separate from thoughts, memories, or sensations. 

But in reality, the brain, being a single unit or organ, functions interconnectedly or in unison with all the hemispheres, regions, and functions. And so, what you feel about a certain thing is completely tied to how you perceive it. How you think about a thing will illicit an emotional response. Conversely, how you feel will affect how you think about an event. Thoughts and feelings are connected, like two sides of the same coin. 

With that in mind, your perception of an event will determine your feelings. And your feelings about the event will continue to spur your perception of the event. This is precisely why we can sometimes become engulfed in a certain feeling state, like a feedback loop that spurs each other on.  Your perception of an event will elicit an emotion, and that emotion will elicit more thoughts that reinforce the emotion.

However, through meditation, you can gradually gain a more detached, objective perspective as you observe sensations, thoughts, and feelings. So, when thoughts enter your mind, you can observe, not judge, and let them go. Similarly, you can do the same with your emotions. And so, you can feel the emotion, experience it, and rather than hold onto it and drive more thoughts that reinforce it, let it go. This ability to observe your thoughts and emotions gives a person the time needed to take a step back and reconsider the events in a more objective light. 

Recently, I had the opportunity to put this through its paces in a real-world scenario. 

I find this thing we call life fascinating. It has a way of reminding you that your designs and your plans are not in your control. When you think you’ve got everything worked out, that curve ball comes from out of left field, and your world turns upside down.

This recently happened to me. I was 45 and living my best life. I had recently moved into a newly purchased apartment in a neighborhood I loved and had made an exciting new career change. My routines were firmly established, including daily meditative walks, working daily at my favorite cafes on something I was passionate about, and being comfortable in my new life and home. I was fully happy and content in all aspects of my life. To read more about how I found inner joy, you can go here.

And then, a month into this blissful period, my apartment burned down. Well, not entirely, but the devastation from the fire, smoke, and water used by the firefighters made it absolute.  I lost everything. I wasn’t home when it happened. Thanks to the kindness of one of my neighbors, who called the fire department and alerted me, I arrived to see everything in ruins. All I had at that moment was the clothes on my back and, luckily, my backpack with my laptop.  

So I said to myself, here is the test to put my mindfulness practice. Of course, I was shocked on the first day, but I didn’t explode or even cry. I knew that, at that moment, resigning myself to any of the emotions one might understandably experience would do nothing to change the reality of my situation. So, I focused on the tasks that would be constructive. I called my insurance, went out and bought some clothes and toiletries, and made arrangements to stay with my parents. 

Over the next few days, I realized that all wasn’t lost. I was able to salvage a lot of my equipment and hard drives. Luckily, those items were kept in a closet far enough away from the fire that they weren’t damaged. I also salvaged many of my clothes and sneakers. And I was fortunate enough to have a loving and supportive family who took me in. 

In those first few days, I felt sad and even sorry for myself for having experienced such an unfortunate and seemingly unlucky event. After all, I had literally just moved into this new place only eight months earlier. How could this happen? 

I recall I was having dinner with my parents, and I was expressing my sorrow for what occurred to me. This was the second night after the event. And my mother, in her best intentions, said not to be depressed. What she was trying to say is not to think about it. She came from a generation whose response to sad or negative emotions was to avoid the feelings, to ignore the trauma, and to bury it.  I said to my mom, “No, Mom. This event just occurred two days earlier. It is perfectly ok and good that I feel what I am meant to feel about this event. I am human, after all. And part of being human is to have emotions about such events in one’s life.”

While allowing oneself to experience the feelings associated with a painful or traumatic event is necessary, allowing those emotions to consume one is not helpful. So, I knew it was crucial for me to return to my routines and resume my life as soon as possible. Perhaps it was the first Monday after the event that I returned to my daily life as best as possible. The fire occurred on a Thursday.

On Monday morning, I returned to my favorite café and spent the morning working on my writing. That afternoon, I went for my daily meditative walks, which I had been doing regularly prior to the fire. As I returned to my life, I began putting things in perspective. This didn’t happen overnight—it took a few weeks. But returning to the things that brought me joy allowed me to look at the situation more objectively.

I asked myself what did I really lose? 

Yes, I lost many of my possessions. I lost my prized DVD collection, I lost all my furniture, I lost many of the nicknacks I had been amassing over the years, as well as most of my electronics. But did any of those objects make me happy? Sure, they provided comfort and entertainment. Some items, like pictures and memorabilia, had more emotional significance, but how often did I turn to those things? And sure, I lost my own personal space. But that is only temporary. The apartment will eventually be rebuilt, and I’ll have my space back. Is dealing with the aftermath between insurance and reconstruction a huge inconvenience? Sure. Could it be fun? Ok, no, but certainly a new experience, which in and of itself can be viewed as an adventure of sorts. 

 And what did I still retain? Well, first and foremost, I had my health. Luckily, no one was physically injured by the fire. Having my health, not losing my life, meant that I still had the opportunity to return to the things that brought me joy and to rebuild that life I once had. What were those things that brought me joy? They’re actually very simple. A warm cup of matcha. Dark Chocolate. Long walks. Working out. Reading. My work. Meditation. Spending time with friends and family. I still had all those things in my life. So then I asked myself, what did I really lose? The answer is not that much. Nothing that truly mattered. 

And so, relatively quickly, I was able to return back to that state of joy and fulfillment I once had before the fire. Sure, things related to the fire may frustrate or annoy me at the moment, as I’m still dealing with the ramifications of that event and may continue to do so for some time. But those annoyances are transitory, too. 

What is key here is that our perception of an event, once influenced by our emotions, is unlikely to reflect reality or capture the entire picture of that event. Understanding that our perspective or outlook affects how we feel—since the two are intertwined—implies that we have the ability and agency to guide our own emotions rather than be controlled by them.

If I had focused solely on the negative outcomes of the fire, fixating on what I had lost or the resulting inconveniences, I would have remained in a depressed state for a longer time. However, by taking a step back through the meditative practice of observation, I was able to assess objectively with a clear mind not only what was lost but also what I still retained that truly mattered to me. With a fuller, objective view of the event, I could let the negative emotions associated with it pass more quickly and return to moments of joy and peace. 

While we have no control over the curve balls life throws at us, we do have the ability to determine how we perceive those events and, thus, how we feel about them. 

Recently, in science news, I was enthralled by the idea that a team of scientists from “Project Seti” are using AI language models to learn whale speech. According to these researchers, these AI models have identified that Sperm whales may have complex languages and even names for each other within their family groups. And it was found that dolphins do call each other by name.

So, it got me thinking: could whales have names for us? And even if they did, how much would we really care? 

Take, for instance, that through AI, we determine that a set of clicks, or low-frequency calls and whistles represent the word for humans to whales. We would all likely find that bit of trivia fascinating.  It may broaden our understanding of animal intelligence, but what would the whale word for human mean to us? Probably not much.

And the reason is that we don’t think and communicate in clicks and whistles. Those sounds are foreign to our lived experience and would be meaningless. So, the whale’s linguistics could never really feel relevant to us. And perhaps also out of an abundance of hubris, we imagine, as the most intelligent species on the planet, that any other primitive form of language does not have the same weight or merit and, therefore, their name for us has little bearing. 

So then, what would GOD think of our name for it? I think we all agree that if there is a GOD, it would be far more advanced than we as a species can even comprehend. After all, while we all have different ideas as to what God is, I think we can all agree that if it exists, it is all-encompassing.  If it actually created the universe or was born out of it, then it would have to be an entity as old as time and as vast as space. And in that regard, what could it possibly make of us? A tiny blip of a species in the vastness of time and space. 

But let’s say that GOD was to visit and look down on our humble little planet. It might look down and see our tiny little cities that, to it, might be akin to inverted ant colonies or termite mounds. And if GOD were to recognize our vocalization to represent it, would it, like us to the whale, find it simply curious? Perhaps, like us, GOD has its own language model and goes by a different name. A name we couldn’t possibly comprehend. Would God, like us, think, “That’s cute. Those tiny creatures make that sound to represent me?” Possibly.

Of course, anthropomorphizing is understandable. After all, we only know what it is like to be human, to experience the world and universe at large from within our bodies, limited to the instruments our bodies offer to sense and communicate. In order to not anthropomorphize it requires really thinking out of the box and putting aside our limited experiences and views. 

So, let’s try to imagine what a being that encompasses all space and time might be. Would it even have a physical body of flesh? Would it need ears? GOD could be an intelligence that operates on a spectrum we have yet to discover. Perhaps its consciousness resides on some quantum level, and the entire universe is its being. What if GOD talks in equations or physical forces? Could it even hear our vocalizations if it has no use for hearing in the vacuum of space? Ultimately,  GOD probably cares very little about the vocalization we use to represent it or our assumed beliefs about it. 

But imagine it looking down on us. What would it be thinking of us? Of these 8 billion little creatures toiling away, coming and going. It must wonder what we’re all doing down here.

It reminds me of being a kid playing in my backyard and watching endlessly with awe and wonder at two ant colonies battling each other. I couldn’t comprehend the ants’ thoughts. I couldn’t understand their language model, which we’re learning are communications they transmit to each other through chemical signals. Why did the ants hate each other? Why were the ants going to war and killing each other? To what end? From where I was standing, they looked like the same exact type of ants. They happen to be two colonies or nests near each other. Was it simply a matter of fighting over land and resources? 

I wonder if GOD observes us and if it asks itself, “Why are these tiny creatures fighting each other?”

So, I can only imagine that from GOD’s perspective, it would probably care little about what we were to call it. If we were to call it God, a dog, a brush, whatever, it would all have the same meaning to God. The name we give it only has meaning for us. And would GOD care what we thought about it? Do we care what the whale thinks about us? What I do think God would be more interested in understanding is why we war amongst each other when we’re the same species. Or why we’re destroying the only tiny inhabitable planet for light years around through global warming and pollution in the name of “progress”? I am sure God would find these behaviors far more curious than the name we use to represent it or the things we think we know of it. 

How to Live a Life in Harmony With Our Essential Selves

One of the most exciting discoveries in science for me occurred in the spring of 2021 when articles began appearing about the Xenobot’s ability to reproduce itself.

To refresh your memories of what the Xenobot is, back in 2020, a group of scientists from UVM and Tufts worked together to create biological robots. The UVM team, using a supercomputer, ran computer models and designed a programmable organism. The team from Tufts took these designs, extracted skin and heart cells from the embryos of a frog (Xenopus Laevis), and arranged those cells in specific shapes based on the models provided by the UVM team.

The result is that the heart and skin cells work together to form a new type of organism with new functionality and drive. In 2021, the scientist ran an experiment in which other embryonic heart and skin cells were added to the petri dish. The Xenobots moved around the dish, gathering cells and pushing them together to form replicas of themselves. When they were provided with the material, the Xenobots became self-replicating.

Here are some discoveries from the Xenobot studies that made these experiments remarkable.

1. The scientist didn’t do anything different to the Frog’s DNA. These are standard Xenopus Laevis cells. Simply by changing the arrangement of the cells, the cells took on a life of their own. This means that the cells within the Xenobot are somehow communicating together. Even though these cells were designed to grow into a frog, they take on a new form with new functionality without changing their DNA coding simply by arranging them differently. 
2. How does it know to make replicas of itself? If its DNA coding is designed to create a frog, how does this new arrangement of cells know to make replicates of itself?
3. Equally remarkable, on a dry petri dish, the Xenobot moves by contracting its heart cells to push itself across the surface. However, when placed in water, it coordinates the movement of its cilia to row through the water. How does it know to coordinate its movements in such a way as to row itself effectively?
4. If you cut the Xenobot in half, it can heal and repair itself. The Xenobots also orm. Two Xenobots may stick together for a bit, but they never merge into one. They also seem to have a purpose and coordinate their movements with other Xenobots. If all signals to others in its environment, which they all respond to.

What these discoveries point to is that survival is designed on a cellular level. The cells of these Xenobots seem to work together to react to their environment and even replicate. What is it about life that makes the drive for survival so paramount? Is survival the prime directive coded into all of life’s DNA? Or is survival coded somewhere else in an organism?

All of these discoveries illustrate how remarkable and surprising life truly is. But what can we take away from this discovery and apply it to our understanding of ourselves? Can there be a lesson that we can use in our daily lives?

Humans have often sought to understand the governing principles of nature to help guide us in living in harmony with nature. Taoism is just one philosophy that comes to mind, which seeks to understand nature or Tao as a way to live in harmony with it. Perhaps, by understanding the design of life on a fundamental cellular level, we can gain insight into how we should live our lives in harmony with our own design.

If survival is the prime directive coded into all living organisms down to a cellular level, then one could extrapolate that living the longest, healthiest life possible would be acting in accordance with that design. That doesn’t seem like much of a revelation. But how many of us actively live a life intended to maximize our existence? To live a life that maximizes our individual existence would mean living life intentionally with longevity as the goal.

Consider all the things we have discovered of late about what living a healthy, longevity-driven life looks like. How many of us actively work daily to live that lifestyle? I won’t get into all the steps a person can take to live healthily here. But some basic ones are avoiding alcohol and refined sugars, staying physically active, getting quality sleep, and eating more plant-based foods while avoiding processed foods. These are just a few behaviors that would lead to living a longer and healthier life. However, maintaining that lifestyle requires daily commitment and active work.

However, another principle to take away is that life’s design is not just about self-preservation. While self-preservation is designed on a cellular level, so is death. We’re designed to die within a set amount of time. Why? There must also be an evolutionary reason for this.

Generational refresh allows a species to adapt and evolve to its environment. Organisms with longer life spans and slower generational refresh evolve more slowly. Evolving slowly can be detrimental to a species’ survival because that species will not be able to adapt quickly enough to changes in its environment.

The second takeaway from the Xenobot is that life’s design is not solely about the survival of a single entity. It is equally, if not more so, about the species’ survival at large. It seems that life has evolved through time to strike a balance between the survival of the individual and the survival of the species. And the survival of the individual is in service of the survival of the species.

If you acknowledge that the ultimate design of life is to ensure that life continues to exist regardless of the individual, then it wouldn’t be enough to just live to one’s fullest potential. To live in harmony with life’s design, we should aspire to contribute that potential toward the survival of our species.

For humans, that doesn’t mean just childbirth. Ensuring the survival of our species includes leaving behind the best environment, world, society, and education possible for future generations. Our technology and sheer numbers allow us to manipulate and change our environment. So, we are fully responsible for the health and productivity of our planet. If we continue to pollute our world and release greenhouse gases, the Earth we leave behind to future generations will not be hospitable to life. So it is our responsibility to remove harmful substances from our environment like micro and nano plastics, PFAS, reducing greenhouse gases, and reintroducing areas for natural habitats so other life forms can survive and thrive.

Of course, these issues are too big and complex for any individual to tackle alone. The good news is we’re not alone. There are over 8 billion of us. If we all worked together, there would be nothing we couldn’t achieve. In an earlier post, I wrote about the mighty Cyanobacteria and how this single-celled organism shaped our planet.

So, it is up to each of us to take responsibility for our actions and choices in our daily lives. Individually, we could actively eliminate plastic use in our daily lives. Or we can try to reduce our individual use of fossil fuels. Any action you take will make a difference in the long run. If everyone took similar actions, companies would have to respond. The companies profiting from these harmful products will have no choice but to cater to the consumer’s will as demand for their products subside.

This seems like a lot to extract from the existence of these tiny biological robots. However, the Xenobot demonstrates that survival as a function is ingrained into the very being of cellular organisms. If you accept that survival is the primal code driving life, then living one’s healthiest life possible while ensuring we’re setting up future generations for success would be living in harmony with life’s design.

In recent years, there has been a lot of new research about Epigenetics’ role in how our DNA is expressed. Epigenetics refers to the mechanisms our bodies’ use to regulate and manage how a gene is made active (expressed) or inactive (silenced). Our Genes are like blueprints or instruction manuals that tell our cells what proteins and functional RNA to produce. Epigenetics does not change that genetic blueprint but regulates how the cells read the blueprint. And based on how the cells read that code or blueprint will determine how much it will tamp down or ramp up the construction of the protein associated with that gene. Think of Epigenetics as the knob on a faucet controlling the flow of proteins being synthesized.

To put this pragmatically, there have been several studies with identical twins that indicate that phenotype differences are a result of Epigenetics. Scientists have observed, for some time, that even though identical twins have the exact copy of genes, they still end up with physical trait differences. But how could it be that one identical twin can be taller than the other? Or be fatter or skinnier than the other? Have different skill sets and behaviors? Have different tastes and preferences? What is causing those differences if they are supposed to be identical?

The answer: Epigenetics. (if you want to read more about it you can go here)

So, at the moment of conception, while still in the womb, environmental factors begin working on our organism, influencing how our cells respond by using epigenetics to manage how the DNA is expressed or not expressed. And as we continue to live, environmental forces keep working on our bodies. These environmental forces are what we eat, what we drink, how much we sleep or don’t sleep, the diseases we get, or the chemicals we’re exposed to. All of these are changing how our Genes get expressed.

As a child, very little is in our control. But as we enter adulthood and gain autonomy, we do gain ownership over the choices we get to make. You still might not be able to choose if you’ll get exposed to diseases, or something like PFAS or nanoplastics, unfortunately. But other choices are within our control. Such as how much we exercise, if we smoke or drink, or if we have that extra slice of seven-layer cake. What epigenetics seems to point to is that everything you do with and to your body will, over time, start to determine what version of you will exist in the future. The simplest example is that if you choose not to exercise and eat poorly, in a fairly short time, there will be a less healthy version of yourself. If each day you choose to be consistent about exercising and limiting sugars, alcohol, and cigarettes, then a year from now, there should be (given no major illness) a healthier version of yourself.

You might be wondering how any of this ties into our understanding of our spirit.

Well, the tie-in depends on how we define spirit. If how you define spirit is based on the traditional monotheistic religions’ understanding of it as this ephemeral essence or vital essence that breathes life into the body and mind like a soul that resides separate from the body, then you probably won’t accept a connection to the physical processes within the body. But if you expand the definition of spirit to mean your fundamental, essential self, then the connection to genes and epigenetics becomes more attenable.

When we traditionally think about the spirit or soul, philosophies, and religions often describe it as the source of our individuality, affecting our consciousness, personality, emotions, and identity. And this soul, for lack of scientific understanding, is often thought of as a magical unseen force or energy, like a ghost. But what if those unseen forces shaping our individuality, our personality, and our consciousness are the interactions between genetics and epigenetics?

If genetics code the way your brain will process information and react to stimulus and epigenetics manages that expression of that coding this can then explain how our personalities, characteristics, and identities get shaped. Let’s take a tangible example, like the attribute of discipline. If every day you repeat a certain behavior, such as working out or learning a new instrument, soon that behavior starts getting ingrained in who you are. You develop this attribute to be disciplined. There have been studies that show that epigenetic processes within neurons are essential in the formation of behavioral memory. So through repetitive behavior, epigenetic mechanisms act on the neurons causing the imprinting of behavioral memory. (To learn more you can go here)

Let’s take another character trait as an example such as lying. Isn’t that a learned behavior? Every time you choose to lie it becomes easier and easier to lie. And soon lying becomes second nature. In time you may not even realize you are lying as it becomes your fundamental go-to behavior as it gets designed into your brain’s neural connections. In time, you will be a liar. Aren’t these developed behaviors or changes to personality a function of who you are on a fundamental level? And if the spirit is your fundamental self, then maybe the unseen force determining who we are is the relationship between genes and epigenetics.

Now, do I think it is completely impossible that our consciousness could be tied to some other unseen force that, for lack of scientific understanding, we refer to as our spirit or soul? No. There have been some fascinating theories coming out of the scientific community that propose that consciousness may, to some degree, work on a quantum level. (to be explored in a future article) However, even if we discover that part of our consciousness is the result of some quantum process, would that mean that the physical processes occurring within our body aren’t connected to the spirit? Probably not, either.

Consciousness may prove to be one of the greatest mysteries for us to solve. Part of the complexity in understanding it is that it doesn’t seem like we can fully explain how the mind codes information simply through chemical and electrical signals. Could part of consciousness be stored in epigenetic processes? Could consciousness on some level be a result of quantum mechanics? Perhaps, we’ll discover that it is a combination of all these mechanisms working together to create our consciousness. And maybe that is why we have this reoccurring theme of the connection between mind, body, and spirit across many Eastern and Western philosophies and religions.

It seems that even though our ancestors were not much better at explaining exactly what the spirit is than we are today, they did have some awareness that when you work on your mind and body, you are affecting your fundamental or essential self. And so, challenging oneself physically and mentally through exercise, meditation, martial arts, sports, reading, studying new languages, or taking up an art form, all of these actions done consistently over time will result in a different version of yourself in the future. And if you choose not to exercise, eat poorly, spend most of your time in front of a TV or on your phone following social media, or cheat, lie, or steal, these choices will also shape who you will become.

Regardless of whether you choose to think of your spirit as some unseen force or holy ghost, what is undeniable is that epigenetics affects how your Genes get expressed, effectively determining who you will be on a fundamental level in the future. And the power of that knowledge is that each of us has control over what version of ourselves we want to be in the future. And the choice of being the best version of yourself in the future starts with the choices you make today and every day forward. So, choose wisely.

How Nature Can Inform Our Behavior Now and Into The Future

I imagine you probably think that a blog about agnosticism would start by listing all the reasons why traditional religions are no more than a collection of myths and fables and lack a true understanding of God and its designs for us as opposed to discussing Cyanobacteria.   

But as stated on my home page, my real interest is applying an agnostic approach to all things in this existence, hoping to gain understanding. So, I’m not sure when I’ll even touch on the topic of traditional religions. What I will say about the traditional religions is that I’m not opposed to them. I believe they could serve a valuable function in society by offering a center for community and as an avenue for moral considerations. And I only think it becomes a problem when the old text that traditional religions are founded on is taken literally or when religious leaders claim understanding of God’s design for us. I’ll eventually get to the topic of traditional religions, but for now, there have been a lot of very exciting discoveries in science that may help us understand ourselves and God’s design better. 

Lately, I’ve been contemplating if we can infer some purpose to life by observing the natural processes of our world and the universe at large. There is a theory that our universe is heading toward a state of Entropy. This theory comes from the Second Law of Thermodynamics, which states that in any isolated system, the amount of entropy, or disorder, will tend to increase over time. Entropy is a measure of energy dispersal or randomness. In cosmic terms, this theory suggests that the universe is gradually evolving toward a state of maximum entropy, sometimes referred to as the “Heat Death” of the universe.

In simpler terms, we know that the universe is expanding. Galaxies are moving further away from each other. Stars, which offer a large portion of the energy in the universe, will eventually burn out. And if new stars aren’t being formed, what will supply the heat energy needed to support life?

Of course, we’re talking about processes that will occur over billions of years. So the death of our sun most likely won’t affect you or me, that is, unless we escape aging. But what does that mean for life, billions or trillions of years from now, when most of the stars begin dying out?

Sure, these are unfathomable amounts of time. But now, let’s look at our planet and the processes that have shaped it so that it could support life.

Have you heard about the Great Oxygenation Event?

About 2.4 billion years ago, Earth’s atmosphere began transforming from atmosphere to the oxygen-rich one we have today. And what caused that transformation? The mighty Cyanobacteria.

A microscopic one-celled organism changed our atmosphere, creating the Ozone layer we have today. It also allowed life to evolve to use aerobic metabolism, setting the stage for the complex life we have today. And how did this tiny little organism terraform our planet, creating the conditions necessary for the world we have today?

Through photosynthesis, the Cyanobacteria use energy from the sun, carbon from the atmosphere, and water to create glucose for themselves, releasing oxygen as its byproduct. But how can a microscopic organism change an entire planet’s atmosphere? Through the compounding effect of time and sheer numbers. The Cyanobacteria numbers were vast. They covered most of Earth’s shallow oceans, forming microbial mats. So, trillions of these little single-celled organisms produced oxygen daily for approximately 300 million years.

In effect, what these tiny organisms did as a function of being alive is reorganize the matter on our planet to be more hospitable to life. This is just one example of life reorganizing or shaping the environment around it to be more conducive to life. We don’t have to look too far for other examples of life behaving this way.

Coral polyps build calcium carbonate skeletons that accumulate over generations, creating coral reefs that protect coastlines from erosion and provide habitats for approximately 25% of marine life. Beavers, through the building of dams, transform streams into ponds, creating new habitats for fish, amphibians, birds, and plants. The dams increase groundwater recharge, keeping the immediate forests near the dams hydrated, preventing forest fires from occurring around the damn. China is experimenting with reintroducing Prewalski Deer to grasslands as part of a larger effort to restore ecosystems and combat desertification. The Deer spread seeds and enrich soils through their manure, transforming the desert back to grasslands.

And, of course, take us humans, for instance. Perhaps the biggest perpetrators of terraforming the planet. It’s hard to fathom how much we’ve transformed our planet in the process of making it more conducive to our lives. Did you know that the United States was once more than 50% forest-covered? By 1919, we had reduced the area of Forest cover in the United States to less than 25%. All the environmental changes occurred within 300 years from when the first settlers landed. Most of the change happened within 100 years during the 19th century through the widespread clearing of forests for timber and agricultural development, urban expansion, and the development of railroads and infrastructure.

Or take, for instance, how, in just the last 75 years, through our burning of fossil fuels, we’ve managed to increase CO2 levels in our atmosphere from an average of 270 parts per million (ppm) to 400 ppm today. This global-scale transformation of our atmosphere is changing Earth’s climate and weather systems, raising global temperatures, changing rainfall patterns, increasing storm intensities, expanding desertification, and causing rising sea levels.

Given that we see countless examples of life acting in ways that reorganize the environment around it, could it be that, in some inherent way, life acts as almost a foil to entropy? If entropy is a movement toward disorder, the randomness of matter, and loss of energy, could life, which seems to function to reorganize elements around it, act as a counter to entropy?

I know this is a leap, but follow me here. Simple life, like single-cell organisms and animals, change the environment around them as a function of their living. But we humans, with the addition of industry and sentience, are far more impactful in how we shape the world around us. Could there be a time in the future, as our technology develops further and our knowledge of the physics governing our universe gets more profound, that we spread out across the universe, terraforming other planets to make them habitable to life? Will we eventually get to the point where we’re gathering and transforming matter so that we can spark new stars, in effect creating new habitable solar systems?

Could this be the purpose of our existence? To try to counter entropy and, as a result, keep the universe alive? If you believe that life is programmed or designed to ensure its survival, then eventually, the only way to truly ensure survival is to be able to manipulate the universe around us. (I’ll get into this idea of programmed or designed survival in another article) For now, we are still entirely at the mercy of the universe. All it would take for us to go the way of the dinosaur is a well-placed meteor. Ergo, NASA’s DART mission was an attempt to use one of our space crafts to alter the orbit of a potentially hazardous asteroid.

So, what moral lesson can we infer from these observations? If life itself acts as a foil against entropy, and entropy will lead to the death of life, perhaps the universe’s design or God’s design is for life to counter the universe’s eventual stillness. If that is the purpose or design of life, then what is our responsibility? As the most intelligent form of sentience on our planet, given that we are beginning to have a clearer understanding of the ramifications of our actions, what do we owe the other life forms on our planet? What do we owe each other or future generations of our species? Shouldn’t we do all we can to set up our future generations for success? I can’t imagine an argument against leaving the best possible planet to future generations.

However, like all things, the argument would be in the details. There might even be those who would argue that the best environment for future generations is one with more carbon in the atmosphere or more nano/microplastics as a result of more productivity and production. Another argument against terraforming the planet further is that we have historically caused more harm to nature than good, which is very accurate. But at this point, not changing our behavior will still cause massive changes to our environment as we’re still putting out more Carbon dioxide daily, putting more plastic in our environment, and consuming marine life faster than it can replenish itself.

We can argue about the specifics of the best possible future environment, but everyone would probably agree that we should leave the best possible world to future generations. If we want to ensure the survival of our species and all life on Earth, we must continue to terraform our planet, but we must do so in harmony with nature.

I am describing changes that need to work on Macro levels. Then how does this apply to us individually? Well, suppose you agree that our purpose is to ensure the survival of our species, future generations of our species, and perhaps the survival of all life on the planet. In that case, we should each do our part to positively impact the world.

We just need to look at the mighty Cyanobacteria for inspiration. Each microscopic organism did its part, toiling daily to churn out tiny amounts of oxygen. If every one of us did just a little daily to make the planet a better place for life, that is 8 billion humans toiling daily to that end, over a few decades, we can make incredible change.

I was 38 when my divorce was finalized. This rupture was probably one of the most emotionally painful events in my life. It was akin to the mourning one might feel when a loved one passes away. But what compounded the pain during the separation and eventual divorce was that this was the busiest time in my life. 

I had gotten a full-time job working as a cinematographer for JPMorgan Chase, I was hired to write a feature script that had the potential to be a big film, and I was preparing to direct my first feature. So, while my marriage was coming to an end, I had to somehow push my emotions aside or bury them and delay the mourning process while somehow pushing through to complete the tasks at hand. 

We had separated around July 15^th. I shot my film around September and delivered the feature script by November. Once all the big projects were behind me, I took a weekend off and went upstate to give myself a much-needed reprieve. Finally, alone I was able to be with my emotions and start the grieving process. I recall walking along the Hudson River on a brisk November day, the sun setting in the horizon and finally allowing myself to cry. I held it all in for almost four months to get through my obligations and now I was able to release what I had bottled in. 

It took the better part of a year to get through the grieving process enough to get back to some semblance of normalcy. It wasn’t until around late 2019 when I started exploring dating again.  But then Covid happened and that changed everything for me. 

The years during the Pandemic uprooted the lives of everyone around the world. Many died or developed long Covid. Many struggled whether financially or emotionally because of the upheaval to economies and societies. I’m not suggesting at all that I had a harder time than anyone else. I just had my own unique experience that shaped me. The years that followed Covid was a strange mix of introspective opportunity and challenging hurdles with my health. 

It was February of 2020 when the first health event occurred. I had gotten sick like never before. I remember this was around the time a cruise ship was being held at port to prevent passengers with Covid from spreading the disease in the US and supposedly, there was no Covid yet in the states. But, this wasn’t true. It was already spreading in New York, and I was probably one of the early ones to get it. Never was I so weak in my life. I remember that walking even a block to get to Urgent Care took great effort as I had trouble catching my breath. It took me a few weeks to recover from the infection. 

A few months later the next health event occurred. It was summer of 2020, and I had ventured out to Long Island City. During my outing I had gotten three mosquito bites on my left calf. I remember developing big itchy welts, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. However, the next day I awoke with a terrible pain in my lower back and had a very high fever.

At first, I thought it was the flu as my whole body ached. But the next day the pain in my back went up to the base of my skull where the neck meets. I remember feeling this terrible headache at the back of my head. I’ve never had a headache like that in my life. My fever continued for a week. I was almost completely bedridden for two weeks, unable to do more than sleep and basic life functions. I called my doctor’s office for help but during this time you weren’t allowed to come into the office if you had flu-like symptoms for fear of spreading Covid. So, my doctor told me to go get tested for Covid.

During this infection, I started developing strange symptoms. My calves were spasming uncontrollably making walking almost impossible. My hands and feet would toggle between a feeling of prickly needles and a burning sensation. I was confused and couldn’t recall words making talking very challenging. I felt a strange disassociation, like a part of my personality was missing. But, I had bigger concerns. I thought perhaps I was developing MS or Parkinson’s as walking had become incredibly difficult. It felt like I had no control over my legs, the spasming causing my muscles to lock up.

I called the doctor again for help, but he insisted it must be Covid. I tried to explain that it all started with mosquito bites. He insisted that we were in the middle of a pandemic, and it would be almost impossible to get any other disease. He sent me out to get tested for covid three more times. It wasn’t until the fourth time when the results came back negative that he would see me. When he saw me, he sent me to a Rheumatologist thinking that the trouble I had walking was a result of inflammation to my joints or some type of autoimmune reaction stemming from my Crohn’s. 

Due to the pandemic, I couldn’t see the Rheumatologist until two months later. When I finally saw the Rheumatologist, I told her all the symptoms and what had happened to me. She said, “You don’t need a Rheumatologist, you need a Neurologist.” She wrote the script and sent me on my way. It took another two months to see the Neurologist.  

During the five months it took to get to a Neurologist, it became abundantly clear that it was going to be up to me again to try and fix myself. As soon as the fevers subsided, I started forcing myself to go for daily walks around the block. I started with four blocks a day, and then worked myself up to eight, and then twelve. Regardless how difficult, I pushed myself to walk daily, and each week extended the length of the walks.

I also researched all I could to figure out what the symptoms could be pointing to in terms of a disease. I tried experimenting with different herbs, teas and vitamins and I started noticing patterns. After eating certain foods or taking certain vitamins, it would trigger the spasming in my legs, as well as, tingling/burning sensation in my hands. On top of that, I noticed my breath had become very sulfuric. I discovered a theory about people developing an intolerance to high sulfur foods and vitamins. So, I went on an elimination diet, removing high sulfur foods and supplements from my diet. I finally started seeing progress in my recovery. My spasming started subsiding as well as the sensation in my extremities. 

I was finally on the road to recovery. After five months of not knowing definitively what was going on, I finally had my appointment with the neurologist. I explained all my symptoms. The Neurologist had me do some physical tests. And then she explained that I had encephalitis. She said the she couldn’t tell me what caused the encephalitis without doing a spinal tap. But, given that I was already on the road to recovery she didn’t think such an invasive test was justified. She then said that in another month or two I should return to normal and if I don’t, to come back to her. I left her office relieved to finally have some sort of clearer understanding as to the cause of all my symptoms. 

It wasn’t long after that when I got my first emotional feeling back. I recall the moment vividly. I was driving to the city, and I got this overwhelming rush of sadness. For the first time in 6 months, I felt sorry for myself because of what I had endured. And then it hit me. The reason I didn’t behave like my normal self. The reason my personage seemed different. What I was missing this whole time was feelings! 

What I didn’t say, and what I couldn’t understand at the time, was that through all of this, I had no emotions. I knew there was something different about my personality. I had noticed that I was unmoved by anything. Someone would tell me a joke, and I logically understood it was funny. But I had no impulse to laugh. I would knowingly pretend to laugh to try to act like my normal self.  I also recall clearly not feeling a sense of fear or sadness at what I was going through. The Neurologist explained that the inflammation affected my limbic system which is why I had no emotions or desires. Another side effect was I could not get an erection for six months because without desire, there is nothing to trigger the mechanical function. 

The experience of being devoid of emotions for six months had a profound impact. It made tangible the notion of identity or self being fully tied to the complete functioning of our organism. There is no separation from who you are and how you behave from your physical brain and body. Also, in a funny way I had gotten what I sought after in my early twenties. Being devoid of emotions, I was like a living robot. I was rational and logical. I understood what was at stake and functioned to fix the problem. While I didn’t experience, anger or fear, the flip side was that I also didn’t experience joy or pleasure. So, I really was numb. And without my emotions, I also lacked drive.  

After about six months from the initial disease onset, I began returning to normal. I started returning to my previously active self, incorporating jogging and working out. But that didn’t last long before the next health challenge. Soon after recovering from the encephalitis, I developed a blockage in my small intestines because of my 20 plus years with Crohn’s disease. By March of 2021, I had to do an intestinal resection operation. That operation took several more months to recover from. Then the following year, I discovered I had damaged the cartilage in my hip because of inflammation in the joint. I had to do another surgery to repair the torn labral and I had a stem cell injection, followed by two rounds of PRP injections to help regrow my cartilage. I did a year of physical therapy, acupuncture and other homeopathic therapies to help in the recovery process.

Earlier, I said that my Covid experience was a strange confluence of health challenges mixed with introspective opportunity. During this period of four years or so, I was fortunate in one major way. I was still working as a Cinematographer for JPMorgan Chase. Given that a lot of filming wasn’t happening in person, I was able to work from home for a lot of this period. Being alone gave me a great deal of time to reflect and work on myself.

Having lost my emotional drivers for about six months gave me the unique experience of existing in this numb, logical frame of mind. I was no longer swayed by emotions. Upon regaining my emotional centers, I could now see more clearly the connection between the emotional centers and the logic/reasoning centers of my brain. I could see how they are in constant communication and connection with each other and how one part of the mind activates and can control the other. 

As part of my recovery from each health challenge, I made going on daily meditative walks a daily activity. I also returned to my earlier years of training in meditation and Buddhism. I took great pleasure in these meditative walks and gained better mastery over my ability to focus on my breath, or the moment and clear my mind. Given the experience of my food intolerance, I understood viscerally the connection between mind and body. What happens to our bodies, what we put into them will inherently affect the entire system of our organism, and that includes the mind. If your mind is affected it effects your personality, your ability to reason, recall and manage emotions.  

Having experienced a slew of hardships in a condensed period, I gained practice in managing my emotions and not reacting immediately. I realized that what happens to you is often out of one’s control, but how you choose to experience it and react to it is completely in one’s control. Knowing that simple fact, means that you are not destined to be reactive to external events.

And as a result of regaining my pleasure centers and regaining my health, I had gained a new appreciation for the meaning of life and my existence. I came to appreciate my organism much more fully, understanding that the body is truly one’s temple. That changed how I view the things that truly bring me joy. Being fully present allows you to experience more deeply the simple pleasures. So today, I no longer seek to find balance between work and pleasure by seeking vices. To me, the things that bring me great pleasure are far simpler; a great cup of green tea, a rich piece of dark chocolate, an amazing sunset, my favorite songs, a deep connection with close friends, and even simply the awareness of breath and the in the moment acknowledgement of existing. 

So that is about where I am today in my journey of understanding this existence, or at least my existence. I don’t know if others will be able to relate to my experience, but I still feel compelled to share my experience in the hope that it can resonate with others.  

Going forward, I’ll be sharing some of the thoughts and conclusions I’ve come to about life drawing from some of my other life experiences, recent discoveries in science, and philosophical frame works.  

So please join me in this quest for understanding. 

Part 3: Second Epiphany and Finding Happiness Through Work/Life Balance 

In the previous article, I described how I continued to live an ascetic existence through my twenties. Most of my time was spent training, studying, or working, and I indulged in very little if anything at all. As I recall, I would allow myself to indulge in a slice of Black Forest cake once a week when I would get together with my friends and business partners at our weekly cafe meet-up. I still had a sweet tooth, so a piece of cake or dessert was a big treat. But during this time, I was so focused on all the work and training that I didn’t make any time to date. It wasn’t as if I was meeting a potential connection in Kung Fu class, where I spent nearly 40 hours a week. I lacked any semblance of work/life balance.

However, despite all the work I did throughout my twenties, developing myself through martial arts training and studying Buddhism, I still wasn’t happy. I still did not reach that elusive state of deeper joy and meaning I set out to find at 20. The reason I had not found inner happiness was that my ego still drove my actions. 

Even though I was studying Buddhism, meditating, training, working on my humility, and trying to attain a state of being egoless, my actions were all driven by the goal of transforming myself. I was in pursuit of an outcome. That outcome was a better me—a version of myself that was not “sick” or “defective” but “strong.” 

That desire to transform myself stemmed from self-loathing. I hated myself for having Crohn’s disease, Arthritis and Psoriasis. I hated being what I saw as defective. How could I find inner peace if the motivation behind my efforts was to not be me. In addition, if your happiness is tied to an outcome, then your happiness is contingent on the result of the outcome. But I didn’t understand that, and even though I was trying to get to “no ego,” everything I was doing was still serving to feed my ego. I hadn’t realized this yet.

Through my twenties, regardless of all the effort and work I had done, I was still suffering daily. My Crohn’s pain was a constant in these days. There was never a day from the age of 19 until about 31 that I didn’t have pain.

Crohn’s, for me, felt like someone was taking a knife and stabbing me in the gut. On good days, the pain was a three on a scale of one to ten. Most days, it resided between six and seven. I learned to ignore that pain. But once a year, I’d have such a bad flare-up that the part of my intestines affected by Crohn’s would get so inflamed and infected that food could no longer pass through. I would have a fever of 105 degrees, even touching on 106 at times, and I’d have to be rushed to the Emergency Room. Those attacks felt like a nine or ten.

So, in many ways, I didn’t accomplish the goal I set out to achieve. However, I had enough sense to understand that even though my ascetic efforts might not have cured my condition, it did perhaps keep it from becoming worse. And I had this belief that to achieve my goals would require consistent effort and work. So, I kept chugging along, continuing to work towards achieving my goals and trying to be the best possible version of myself.

Part of the pursuit of betterment was getting into the graduate film program at Columbia University. In my early twenties, I worked on a friend’s film project, and I loved the experience. From that day I was working towards becoming a cinematographer because I loved the merger between technology and artistry. As part of the program, at the end of the first year, we had to use the summer break to make a short film. I made a short film in India, where the next big life change occurred.

I went to India with two classmates and one of my closest friends. Another actor joined us so there were five of us from the production. We were staying in a remote hostel on the outskirts of Auroville. And then, one day, two more travelers ended up staying at the hostel. One of them was Vinaya Chaitanya who at the time was an Indian Swami and the head of an Ashram. He radiated kindness and an almost childlike innocence. A warm and joyful American woman accompanied him. The rest of my team naturally spoke and connected to the two travelers. But I kept myself locked up in my room for most of the time as I prepared for the next day’s work.

During this first year of grad school, I was still very much in ascetic mode. So, in India, I wanted no interruptions from the task at hand. And I guess Vinaya took notice of my behavior. One morning, before we set out to film, he approached me and kindly offered to help. 

I was a little puzzled by this offer. I said, “Thank you, but we’re filming; I don’t see how you could help.” Vinaya then said to me, “I can drive you to set.” The challenge with this offer was that we didn’t have cars in India. We had motorcycles. But not thinking things through, I thought that I could ride on the back of the bike and continue preparing for the day’s filming. So, I accepted the offer and got on the back of the bike.

The moment Vinaya took off, I knew we were in real trouble. The back wheel spun out, and we wobbled and teetered on the edge of falling over. I’m not fully sure that Swami had ever driven a motorcycle in his life. Or maybe it was having a much larger person on the back of the bike that was throwing off the center of gravity. Either way, I quickly realized I needed to help balance the bike. So, I put my script away, grabbed the back of the bike, and started leaning left and right, acting as a counterbalance to keep us from toppling over.

So, while I was working really hard to keep us from falling, Vinaya would do the wildest thing. He would turn around to talk to me, ask me pointed questions about my life, and completely take his eyes off the road to look back at me. I was deeply concerned that we were going to have a terrible accident and be mortally wounded.

His first question was, “Do you have a girlfriend?” I quickly retorted no and said, “But, please look forward.” He then turned around again and asked me why. I quickly blurted out that I was too busy working and asked him again to keep his eyes on the road. He turned around again and asked, “why was I too busy working?” I said, “Because I wanted to achieve my goals,” and probably nervously said, “Watch the road”. He turned around again and asked, “Why was I trying to achieve these goals?”

That question stunned me. Added to my loss for words was the very real fear that, at any moment, we may crash with another biker or fall to our deaths. Why was it so important for me to achieve these goals? I was baffled. 

A funny thing happens when you think you’re going to die or get fatally injured while someone asks you pointed questions about your life choices. You inevitably are forced to reassess your life choices. And what I took away from that very deceptively smart Swami was this very simple question: why wasn’t I enjoying life? If you can lose your life in an instant in some horrible crash, then what are you doing with the precious moments you have? Was there a way to strike a balance? Could I keep working to achieve my goals while enjoying life? 

That very night after filming, I broke my 10-year Ascetic lifestyle. I asked for a beedi (an Indian cigarette) from one of my colleagues and had a smoke. And it felt really good. I mean, really, really good. Was there a way to strike a balance? Maybe I could indulge in a vice from time to time. Maybe I could date and not invest all my time in work. Work/life balance, right?

One other big thing happened soon after this event. I owe a lot to my aunt. She has always been very giving and supportive. My aunt was a very smart and knowledgeable pharmaceutical engineer. One night, during dinner with the family, she presented me with an article and said, “Could you be allergic to Gluten?” This was now about fifteen years ago. No one was really talking about Gluten back then. I said, “What is Gluten?”. She said, “It is wheat.”

I was flabbergasted. I already gave up most things and ate what I thought was really healthy. How can I now give up all wheat products? I literally asked her that. She said, “Just try it and see if you feel better.” Well, after reading the article, I decided it couldn’t hurt to try. And the change was dramatic. After just a day, I was already feeling markedly better. After three days, the difference was remarkable. And for the first time in over ten years, I was no longer struck by daily pain.

I still had Crohn’s. It wasn’t like I was cured overnight. But for sure, a lot of what was driving the inflammation in my intestines and body was Gluten. Once I went gluten-free, I started having pain-free days. Arthritic and psoriatic flares became a thing of the past. What being pain-free did for my quality of life was profound. I was so grateful to have the reprieve from the constant stabbing pain. It was like I saw the world with rose-colored glasses for the first time in a long time. And I was so grateful and appreciative of this new state that I took pleasure in everything. Even the mundane.

So, my 30’s became a period of striving to find a balance between work and pleasure. I still worked hard to achieve my goals, but not doggedly. My Kung Fu training had taken a back seat So I could focus on building my career. I would still work out to stay in shape, but not necessarily every day. I made room in my life to stop and smell the roses and I experimented with vices, allowing myself to smoke one cigarette a night. For whatever reason, the thought of smoking a cigarette during the day was gross to me. But one at night was a joy I looked forward to. And for the first time in a long time, I started actively dating for several years until I met the woman who would become my wife.

In time, the one cigarette-a-night thing fell away as I soon grew sick of the habit. I’d allow myself to have a drink or two from time to time, but it, too, was something I never craved. I even indulged in weed from time to time during this period. These years I was more flexible and willing to let loose. 

But I found that the simple things brought me the most pleasure and joy. I truly loved green tea and chocolate. As long as I had those around, I was happy. I loved going jogging along the water and watching sunsets. I enjoyed indulging in frozen yogurt during the summer. During these years, I felt as though I had found some sort of balance. I was enjoying life and working towards my career and family—all the things you’re supposed to do.

But what I wasn’t really doing was fully working on myself. What I mean by that was that I wasn’t thinking actively about philosophy or spirituality during this period. Sure, I was working as a cinematographer, writer, and filmmaker. So, when I would write or direct, there was certainly introspection and exploration of humanity. Although I didn’t actively meditate as frequently during these years, I found writing highly meditative.

Things were, in general, pretty good during this period. I enjoyed the work I was doing. I was married to someone I loved. And I managed to make time to work out, spend time with family, and travel with my partner. My Crohn’s attacks became less frequent. And though I’d still have a bad flare-up from time to time, I wasn’t being rushed to the emergency room once a year like I used to be in my twenties.

It was the first time in my life that I was generally happy. I felt as though I had found the proverbial work/life balance, and I was happy because I seemed to have everything I sought. That was until my late thirties into forties, when life threw some new curve balls, as it often does. 

It wasn’t until this next period in my life that I finally got the answer to Vinaya’s question, “Why was it so important for me to achieve these goals?” And it wasn’t until this next period in my life that I understood how to find true inner peace and happiness, no longer needing to rely on one’s external eventualities. 

Part 2: Taking a 180-Degree Turn and Living an Aescetic Life

In my previous post, I described my teenage years and how they were defined by hedonistic behavior. At the end of that post, I describe how, at the age of 19, I had an epiphany that led me to instantly change my life overnight, giving up all vices and immediate gratification. This is the next installment of a series exploring how my life experiences have informed my current way of being. 

By age 20, I had enrolled back in Queens College and began exploring what a more meaningful or purposeful existence could look like.

My epiphany left me searching for something. I almost unconsciously understood that I wasn’t living my life to my fullest potential by constantly partying and not applying myself to my personal growth. I also had a vague sense that happiness could come from something else and not have to come from vices. But how should I live and apply myself to what? What would make me feel fulfilled and content in my daily life? I was utterly lost, but I knew I needed to actively seek deeper fulfillment.

The first thing I did was take as many different classes as possible. Rather than thinking solely about fulfilling requirements, I decided to take any class that interested me. I took philosophy, religion, sociology, anthropology, literature, and poetry classes. I would take any class that could help me make sense of this life and gain a deeper spiritual understanding.

But I felt I needed more than what college could offer. So, I looked to Eastern philosophies for answers and discipline. I started studying Taoism, Confucianism, and Buddhism. I gravitated toward Zen Buddhism because I found it to be more austere than the other Buddhist schools. And I also looked for a martial art to study. After visiting several schools, I ended up in one school that immediately caught my attention.

When I met the man who would become my Sifu (Master), I was struck by the fact that we spoke for nearly 2 hours. It felt more like he was interviewing me rather than me interviewing him. A scientist and chemical engineer by trade, he wanted to understand why I was interested in studying Kung Fu. I was aware enough to sense that he was thoughtful and analytical. That conversation was enough for me to believe that I could learn something about myself and this existence from him. Later, I’ll discover just how much of a genius he truly is. As a scientist and chemical engineer, he applied his scientific background and analytical mindset to studying martial arts. It gave him the unique ability to develop his own Kung Fu beyond what was handed down to him by his master.

When my soon-to-be master, Sifu Mickey, asked why I was interested in learning kung fu, I didn’t truly understand what I was seeking. At the time, I said and believed that what I was looking for from a traditional martial art was to teach myself discipline. But on looking back, what I was actually seeking was transformation.

Kung Fu films were very popular in the 1990s, probably popularized by the music of Wu-Tang and pop culture. As a teen, I loved watching Kung Fu films from the 1970s and 1980s. You may recall the ones on VHS tape with terrible English dubs, which made watching the movies even more fun. When people think of those films, most will likely think of the most famous artists, such as Jackie Chan, Jet Li, and, of course, Bruce Lee.

But I was more enthralled by the films starring Gordon Lui or early Jackie Chan films. These films always showcased a young, naive protagonist who had some injustice committed against them, causing them to seek out martial arts training to get revenge. Over the course of the film, through a great deal of effort, pain, and perseverance, the protagonist inevitably transforms into something invincible, almost beyond human. I didn’t understand it then, but those films spoke to my underlying desire and were probably a large part of why I sought Kung Fu.

In those years, I trained relentlessly. I’d rack up close to 40 hours of training a week between kung fu classes and my workouts. I also worked part-time for my parents in their shoe stores while attending undergrad full-time. In my free time, I studied Buddhism and would visit monasteries. Eventually, I started working as a personal trainer and started a video production company with my close friends. I rarely deviated from my work or training schedule, and I strictly maintained my abstinence, only allowing myself to have a drink on New Year’s Eve. In those years, I was incredibly strict with my diet and exposure to any vices.

I was on a mission. Back then, when people my age asked why I didn’t drink or party, I would say I was choosing to live a “straight-edge” life. But in fact, this period of relentless work was a 180-degree flip from the hedonistic existence I was living in my teens to one of asceticism. For the most part, I would say it was a positive behavioral change, except for one thing. The reasoning behind what motivated my actions was not healthy.

I thought what I was doing was developing the discipline I lacked in my teens and seeking deeper happiness by working toward enlightenment. What I was actually seeking was transformation. And the reason for that transformation is what drove my punitive behavior.

In part 1, I described how I was embarrassed by my condition. As my condition evolved from arthritis and psoriasis to Crohn’s, my embarrassment grew to hatred. I had grown to hate what I saw to be my defectiveness. And that hatred of self spurred me to pursue training and work to the point of being punitive.

I had a very wise and kind Kung Fu uncle, Sibak Moy Yee (Henry). He was my Sifu’s older brother in the family, and so I would call him Sibak. Sibak Henry was a very jovial and brilliant martial artist. He was like an encyclopedia of martial arts, studying as many martial as he could. He would often look at me, shake his head, and say, “Training as much as you do will not get you to master Kung Fu faster. You are human. Not a robot. You will get hurt unless you rest your body, and your training will slow or stop.” He was right. I did get several injuries that caused me to slow my development, and which still haunt me today. But what he didn’t have quite right was that I wasn’t entirely interested in mastering Kung Fu.

What I was pursuing was transforming myself from what I perceived to be the sickly, “weak” version of myself to a healthy and “strong” individual. I was seeking to cure my afflictions. Given that Western medicine had no solutions for me other than taking prednisone from time to time to stave off the worst of the flare-ups, I felt I had no choice but to find a cure on my own. I had convinced myself that if I worked really hard, trained relentlessly, and maintained a strict, healthy lifestyle, I could purge myself of my defects.

And so, my obsessive work ethic tipped toward self-punishment. I would strike trees to harden my bones; I would hike mountains with 80 pounds of weights strapped to my body, and every Saturday, I would train in Kung Fu for 7–8 hours. While I thought what I was doing was developing self-discipline and seeking more profound happiness, I was actually being driven by my ego. I wanted to be stronger, smarter, and healthier. In and of itself, those are not bad goals, but being motivated by self-hatred is psychologically unhealthy. What I didn’t understand then was that happiness could never be attained unless you can show yourself grace and come to love yourself for the unique individual you are. And these afflictions or “defects” are part of what made me unique. Rather than seeing them as limitations, I needed to see the advantages they offer.

But those revelations would not come until much later.

Through my 20’s, I maintained my ascetic lifestyle. I attended martial arts competitions, winning several 1st and 2nd place medals. I became a personal trainer. And started moonlighting as a cinematographer. The first short film I wrote and directed went to festivals and got me into the graduate film program at Columbia. That is when the following change in me occurred. It didn’t feel like the almost spiritual epiphany I experienced at 19 in the shower. But the shift in mindset practically did occur overnight again and, in retrospect, was undoubtedly a spiritual encounter.

I was 29 when my life outlook got upended once again.

My Early Years, Living Hedonistically, and My First Epiphany

I’d like to start my first few posts by describing the path or journey that led me to my Agnostic Framework. In sharing my journey, I hope to share an abridged picture of the events and choices that shaped me into the individual I am today and how I’ve come to view this existence. I hope in sharing my life journey; how I’ve come to the conclusions I hold to be true can be better understood. 

I’m going to do this often, at least in these early posts. 

At no point, am I claiming that I have some sort of absolute knowledge about anything really. 

I know that statement might be off-putting. Time is precious. A person reading this is probably looking for answers or quick guidance on how to best live life or what to believe in. But I cannot, in good consciousness make claims to having some absolute truth or knowledge as it would go against my own Agnostic philosophy. In my first post I describe what I believe as an agnostic. I simply don’t think it is possible for a person at this point (we’ll get into this later) in our development as a species to have total knowledge even in the subject of their expertise. 

I’ve had the fortune of meeting brilliant humans in my lifetime, as well as those perceived to be brilliant humans. And I had the privilege of having much smarter and wiser mentors who were more intelligent and knowledgeable than these so-called brilliant humans. And yet, I have not met a single person who has a complete understanding of very complex issues. Rather, it is helpful to think of people as having expertise and deep knowledge in specific slices of life.

So, I think the best thing one should seek is to glean from people the slices of knowledge they have and learn to filter the things they know less about and yet still share. So, if you do choose to keep reading this blog, what I can say is that I will share the slices of knowledge I’ve extrapolated and some of the practices and thoughts that I have found to be helpful and interesting to me. 

Now back to the journey.

When I was about thirteen years old, I had my first arthritis attack. My knees would swell to the size of a melon and become so stiff I couldn’t flex my leg. Soon after, I also developed psoriasis. Parts of my skin would be so inflamed that layers of skin would flake off, and my open sores would get stuck to my clothing. I’d have to peel the clothing away from my skin slowly. Needless to say, it was painful.

The years were the early to late 90s. As painful and uncomfortable as my condition was, even more unbearable was the embarrassment I felt around my condition. I was entering high school. Even healthy children entering high school feel a great deal of pressure to fit in. It is probably the most self-conscious period of our lives. But having this defect made me feel that much more self-conscious. I was incredibly embarrassed by my defects, and I hated myself for being different. I just wanted to be viewed as normal and wanted to fit in and be seen as cool. And so, I started to take on behaviors that I thought would make me seem cool.

Having these afflictions and feeling different caused me to hate myself. I recall many school nights alone on my parent’s roof. I would sneak out of my bedroom window, sometimes with a drink I spiked with some of my parent’s rum or vodka. Sometimes, I would smoke a joint. And so, I would sit on the roof, stare at the stars, get inebriated, and contemplate my fate. I’d often ask GOD, why me? Why do I have to have these afflictions?

I was angry at God and the adults that failed me. The doctors had no answers. They would say, “You have rheumatoid arthritis”. Or another would say, “You have psoriatic arthritis”. I was smart enough to know, even at the age of fourteen or fifteen, that all the doctors were offering was the name of my symptoms. I would say to the doctor, “But what is causing this? All you are telling me is the name of my symptoms”. And they would say plainly, “We don’t know that yet. But let’s try this medicine. Or try putting this cream on.” A few times, they would drain my knees, sticking a massive needle in my knee and pulling the liquid out.

So, feeling let down by God and adults alike, I started mistrusting adult institutions. My parents sent me to Catholic School for high school because I already started acting out in 8th grade. They had hoped Catholic School would offer some discipline and keep me from getting into trouble. But going to Catholic school was the last place I wanted to be, so I rebelled. I felt the teachings and practices of the Catholic church were fairytales no different than the tooth fairy or Christmas that adults made up to try to manipulate children. At this point, I came to the conclusion that there was no GOD, certainly not a kind or just one. From an early age, I felt we were alone here, left to figure things out for ourselves.

So, through the early to mid-90s, I spent a lot of time getting high or drunk or a combination of both with my friends. Getting into trouble was part of the thrill. Trespassing, cutting out of school, and running from the police were all part of the game. Looking back, my behavior was driven by a need to rebel and an attempt to be perceived as cool — all driven by my self-hatred and anger.

I would also describe this early period of my life as being a hedonistic existence. I was perpetually seeking pleasure. From the food I ate to the video games I played, to the TV I would watch, or getting into “adventures” with friends or drinking alcohol, smoking weed or cigarettes. It was a constant search for immediate gratification. Sure, I attended high school. But I didn’t study very hard. I was one of those individuals that didn’t have to study much to pass. I even purposefully started dumbing down my results because I didn’t want to be seen as nerdy by my peers. So, I got through high school with a high 80’s average.

To be clear, my parents tried to do their best for me. They were very loving and kind parents. Like most parents, they wanted me to be happy. Perhaps, knowing the suffering that I was going through with my arthritis and psoriasis, they were more willing to look the other way and do everything they could to give me the things I wanted. Sure, they would punish me when I got caught doing something outrageous, like sneaking out at night and stealing their car or getting caught cutting from school. But in all fairness to them, I was pretty sneaky. I hid a great deal from them. They probably, to this day, have no idea how bad my psoriasis really was, as I was too embarrassed to tell anyone the extent of it, even my parents.

Things continued in this way until I was 19.

At 18, I started to go to Queens College. But by this time, I was working as a supervisor at the Gap. (The Gap was very cool back then, lol) And my partying evolved to epic proportions. I would be out partying most nights until the early morning hours, getting high with my friends, and then sleeping through the day, missing my classes. Evenings would be spent at work. I would repeat this pattern almost daily, missing practically the entire first semester. During my first semester in college, I earned a 0.8 GPA. I bet you didn’t think that was possible. But it is if you get a “B” in one class and three unofficial withdrawals or essentially three zeroes. So Queens College put me on notice, saying they would expel me if I didn’t get my grades above 2.5 GPA.

And then, at 19, I had my first Crohn’s attack. I developed a very high fever. My temperature reached 105 degrees, and I had terrible, stabbing pains in the lower right quadrant of my torso. My parents rushed me to the hospital, presuming it was appendicitis. Even the emergency room doctors believed it was appendicitis. I was immediately prepped for surgery. Fortunately, I had a smart surgeon who, before jumping to cut me, made several small incisions and, using a camera, saw that it wasn’t my appendix at all but an inflamed ileum (where the small and large intestines meet). He immediately diagnosed my case as Crohn’s disease and sowed me up without removing my appendix.

Soon after the emergency room visit, I saw a Gastroenterologist who told me about my options and the outlook of my disease. What really stuck with me was when he explained that the outlook for people with Crohn’s was that many didn’t make it past their fortieth birthday. This hit me hard. Was half my life over already?

I continued doing things as usual: partying at night, hardly attending school, and working at night as a manager. And over the course of the year, my Crohn’s continued to get worse. Pain was a daily occurrence. On average, the stabbing pain I felt was a 6 or 7 on a scale of 10. A good day would be a 3. And a few times a year, it would erupt into a 9 or 10. I would get terribly high fevers and vomit as food would no longer pass through the ileum because of the inflammation.

One day, after a long night of partying, I woke up at 3 p.m. to prepare for work. As I was taking a shower, I was struck by an epiphany. It became viscerally clear to me that I was wasting my life. In an instant, I knew to my core that if I continued living my life the way I was, I would lead myself to an early grave and not achieve my full potential.

The clarity I felt at that moment was so palpable it thrust me into immediate action. That very afternoon, I went to work and gave my two-week notice. I also decided to quit smoking cigarettes, drinking alcohol, and smoking weed that very day. To achieve that goal, I stopped seeing all my friends with whom I used to party and entered a self-imposed lockdown of sorts. I knew that if I was going to make these changes, I couldn’t be exposed to any temptations for some time. Then, I set out on a path to fix myself, gain discipline, and try to make a better life for myself.

I was 20 years old when I made that 180-degree change. This was the first leg of my journey, my first epiphany.

So when I say that I identify as an Agnostic, what I mean is that I fundamentally believe that in most aspects of our existence, we can’t possibly comprehend the whole truth. At least not yet (I’ll get back to this “not yet” in a later post). Or at the very least it is very hard from our narrow perspective to fully know the whole of reality.

So, if I question the truth or validity of everything then what do I believe in?

First, I believe we’ve made amazing progress as a species in terms of expanding our understanding of the world and universe. Especially in the last 500 years or so. And I believe that as we continue to learn, grow, and develop more advanced tools, we’ll eventually have a fuller comprehension of our lives, and the forces that govern the universe.

So, if you can’t tell yet, what I have a lot of faith in is the sciences. Even if the sciences have yet to discover everything or at times get things wrong, they at least give us a framework to investigate the physical universe around us, allowing us to eventually gain a deeper understanding. And I don’t question everything we know to date. In order to function and operate in society of course there are things you must hold to be true. So, I’m not a nihilist who thinks that nothing is real or that everything is meaningless. Rather, I want to approach what I consider to be true cautiously and remain open to the possibility that my understanding or belief can be wrong or misguided.

Take, for instance, the flat Earther movement. I was blown away when I came across the news reports of this one man who died four years ago trying to prove the Earth was flat. He was so committed to proving that the Earth was a flat disk that he made a homemade rocket in his garage and tried launching himself into space. Unfortunately, the launch ended in his death. The man’s name was Mike Hughes and in a news interview with CBS he said, “I just want people to question everything.” 

On some level, I agree with that sentiment.

But did you know, that around 2000 years ago, ancient Greek philosophers like Pythagoras and Aristotle were already coming to the conclusion that the Earth was spherical? And that it is a myth that during the Middle Ages, people believed the Earth was flat. In fact, by the Middle Ages, most Christian scholars acknowledged that the Earth was round. So how is it that as late as 2020 there are still groups of people questioning whether the Earth is round? Well, the flat Earth theory had a recent resurgence due to the spread of misinformation on the internet, motivated by some religious and conspiracy theory groups.

Given how misinformation is spread today so easily over the internet and social media platforms it is more crucial than ever to be wary of the information you come across and question things claimed to be truth or factual. But rather than going so far as building a rocket ship in your garage and trying to launch yourself into the stratosphere to prove something true or untrue, some careful thought and examination of currently available data could help get you to the truth. Mike Hughes just needed to gather all the evidence available. He could have started with the formulas that the early Greek Philosophers used to calculate the shape of the Earth.

So as an Agnostic, who believes questioning our understanding is important, and remaining open to new discoveries is valuable, I don’t question the truth about everything. Generations of humans before us have already theorized, calculated, and gathered a lot of evidence to support certain views about the physical laws and realities governing our world and universe at large. And so, I have come to accept most things taught in school to be true, that is until new data comes to light showing an error in our calculations.

On this blog, I’ll be getting into topics that run the gamut from health, philosophy, religion, God, spirituality, politics, life at large, and anything that catches my attention and that I want to explore further from an Agnostic lens. I’ll also be sharing some of my life experiences and how I came to believe some of the things that I hold to be true. I can’t say for sure what my goal is in starting this, other than it seems in today’s world, Agnosticism may prove to be more valuable than ever as an ethos and I hope to share how I use it so that perhaps others can as well. Ultimately, if the things I share help anyone even just a little, then my goal would be achieved.