Journal
A Diary a Firsthand Experiences with Meditation Applied to the Everyday
From planting chile seeds and sipping Buddha’s Hand tea grown on the land, to sunset mantra meditation on the hillside and learning the craft of warm salt compress, an afternoon at Pure Land Farms offered a grounded reminder that healing begins with simple, elemental rhythms.
The Lake Shrine has a way of slowing the body without instruction. Walking paths circle the water, benches appear just when rest feels right, and silence settles without effort. This journal reflects on returning to the grounds after the fires, and how certain places invite presence simply by being what they are.
Some forms of leadership are almost invisible. This journal reflects on the quiet responsibility of holding space during a retreat. Preparing land, staying alert through the night, and offering steady presence so others can move safely through deep inner work.
Meditating in public means allowing the world to keep moving without stepping away from it. In this journal entry, I sat outside a café in Topanga and practiced stillness amid voices, footsteps, and passing cars, noticing what happens when nothing needs to be managed.
I left my phone behind on a hike through Red Rock Canyon and found my attention settling in unexpected ways. Along the trail, three quiet encounters and a silent payphone reshaped how I thought about presence, connection, and what it means to be reachable.
Removing my shoes did not add anything to the walk. It removed a layer. What followed was a quieter pace, a more attentive body, and a conversation with the trail that could not have happened otherwise.
What happens when you stop directing the moment and let something else lead? A walk with our family dog becomes a meditation on pace, control, and the unfamiliar relief of not being the one in charge.
The Inner Map
A 14 Day Journey Through the Mind and Its Obstacles
Inner-Outer Compass
Learn to Two Fundamental Types of Meditation — Open and Focus
While weeding along the path to the yoga room, two honeybees move steadily across bright yellow blossoms, legs dusted with pollen. Spring has fully arrived, and the work is underway. A Nature, Unfiltered reflection on gathering what the season offers.
While visiting Lake Shrine, a turtle rests on a sun-warmed rock, unmoved by the gentle activity around it. Koi glide past, birds gather nearby, and visitors come and go. The turtle remains. A Nature, Unfiltered reflection on calm that doesn’t require retreat.
Along the pathway to the cabin, Bird of Paradise flowers bloom with quiet confidence. Upright and deliberate, they don’t soften the landscape so much as mark it, inviting a slower pace and clearer attention. A Nature, Unfiltered reflection on presence that doesn’t need to blend in.
A brief encounter with a Botta’s pocket gopher reveals a quieter rhythm of life. Rarely seen above ground, the gopher moves with efficiency and restraint, reminding us that much of what matters happens beneath the surface, away from view.
After weeks of rain, a peach tree blooms once an invasive vine is cleared away. This quiet moment in Topanga Canyon becomes a reflection on how renewal often follows release, not effort. Growth arrives when space is restored.
On a rainy morning, I noticed a snail crossing the path, its body extended fully, moving forward without hesitation.
A quiet afternoon at Pure Land Farms offered a rare pause from momentum. Through garden walks, wind-pacifying tea, breath practices, and Tibetan self-healing rituals, the day became a lesson in balance, patience, and letting the nervous system settle.