This space contained one of the most challenging, defining and inspiring periods of my life. In the 2+ years that I lived here, not a single day passed that I didn’t think about the pursuit of happiness, human potential and how to help people live authentic, fulfilling and engaged lives.

Today I’m closing a chapter. I certainly know a lot more than when this all began. I’ve gone through the hard work of living out some of these questions myself. I can’t say that I have the answer and I don’t know what’s next, but I want to make room to find out.

During the past week I’ve savored, I’ve purged, I’ve remembered, I’ve questioned, I’ve committed, I’ve cleared it out. I’ve felt immense gratitude and I’ve let go. The boxes are packed. The movers have come and gone. And now as I glance around this empty home one last time, I’m reminded of a poem by Lao Tzu and I make room for not.

The Uses of Not

Thirty spokes
meet in the hub.
Where the wheel isn’t
is where it’s useful.

Hollowed out,
clay makes a pot.
Where the pot’s not
is where it’s useful.

Cut doors and windows
to make a room.
Where the room isn’t,
there’s room for you.

So the profit in what is
is in the use of what isn’t.

-Lao Tzu

During my last week in Cape Town I woke up on a sunny morning and drove to the southern most tip of South Africa. The winds were wild and intense. The landscape became more barren and beautiful. As we neared Cape of Good Hope, we drove along a turquoise coastline and stumbled upon a group of windswept ostriches by the sea. It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen in a long time… I can’t quite explain it, except that the moment expanded the boundaries of how I understand natural beauty. There was a raw elegance to it that was strikingly beautiful and immensely energizing.

In reflecting back to the weeks leading up to my trip, I was pretty exhausted. A year of living in uncertainty had taught me a tremendous amount, but I was ready to change modalities. I arrived in South Africa with a long backlog of ideas waiting to explode, but instead of attempting to churn through them, I rested. I did nothing. I explored. I wandered aimlessly through markets, met new people, read fiction in cafes, went on walks, painted flowers in Kirstenbosch Gardens, took naps, visited cheetahs, drank tea, watched the ocean and had long conversations with an old friend. I allowed myself to slip into a cycle of restoration and positive flow. (more…)

There’s something I’ve always loved about international flights and that feeling of being completely unreachable. It’s the sense that you’re neither here nor there. It’s the rare pause where time doesn’t seem to exist. It’s the quiet relief that comes with disconnecting. It’s losing yourself as you give into sleep and slip in and out of dreams. It’s wholehearted permission to just allow yourself to be in the in-between.