Walking in the forest reminds me that the world itself is fundamentally wild; the silence reminds me that what’s inside is as wild as what’s out. When we gravitate to ease and efficiency as an escape from external wildness, do we turn simultaneously from self-exploration? Is there a way to straddle both worlds, to reach enlightenment through comfort? Can authenticity be found curled up on a warm, receiving couch?
Sometimes I’m convinced that self-awakening is for the birds.