The Year I Stopped Knowing, well, to Some Considerable Extent

Life, writing, my favorite podcasts, and more

Composition X by Wassily Kandinsky, 1939

For thousands of years, cultures from all corners of the world have celebrated the winter solstice. It’s a time for reflection, prayer, grief, celebration—neck-shaving and ten straight days in the gym?

It’s certainly strange to rouse activating energy in the heart of winter, at least in the Northern Hemisphere. In fact, the idea that the winter solstice must symbolize “progress” is a modern development. This is because the notion of never-ending progress, as has become culturally ubiquitous today, is only a couple hundred years old. Life on the farm used to just be, well, life on the farm! Cow shit last year, cow shit next year, and t’was all okay.  

Yet as arbitrary as the Gregorian, or any, calendar may be, it fuels a collective momentum this time of year. The energy we create is undeniable. Annual rituals like these remind me that we are not just animals who hibernate in winter—we are the spark where the animal meets the mindful.

We are not just bodies that instinctively rebuke the cold and seek shelter, we are thinkers whose minds constantly and unavoidably create something out of nothing. Like it or not, real or arbitrary, ancestral or modern—we create a collective consciousness of inertia in early January. Can you feel the energy I’m talking about?

I, for one, am particularly fond of this annual ritual of simultaneous retrospection and forecasting. Self-reflection is synonymous with recovery—and recovery, along with its promise of a brighter future, saved my life. Thus, each time this year, I take stock of my wisdom and folly, hoping to understand the nature of my existence. Or something to that tune.

Here are some reflections I hope you find useful, presented in a Substack writer’s most elite format—the LISTICLE! Brevity is the soul of wit, as the bard says. 

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Three themes

I went back through my Substack to take a gander at what I’d had to say over the course of 33 essays. A few patterns arose:

1. Relative/Absolute

A seeming tension between the relative (usually tumultuous) and the absolute (definitionally perfect). The more I dove in, however, the more convinced I became that the distinction is a fabricated one, and not in any way a reflection of truth—merely a cognitive instinct for ordering.

In fact, the universe is as perfect as I said it was—and the world is as fucked as I explained it to be. Those are not factoids held in tension; they are simply facts that hold each other. To ignore one is, in some ways, to doom the other. It’s “all sunshine” on the absolute level denies the possibility of improving the very real tragedies at play all over the world. Meanwhile, singular focus on the very real tragedies denies the resplendence of Always, and, in many ways, counterproductively saps the source of human optimism for making daily realities better.

Within my three dozen essays of 2023, I explored the realms of nondual awareness and contemplative bliss, which I’m fortunate to be able to say likely reflected my state of mind. At the same time, I delved more deeply than I’ve ever done into explicit discussions of politics and world affairs, addressing the breakdown and inevitable collapse of faulty and outdated societal systems, which mirrored the agony in my mind and heart over the current state of life on earth.

Neither the sunshine nor the shade was any truer or realer than other.

2. Phenomenology > Epistemology (Conscious Experience > Knowledge)

This year, my interest shifted away from epistemics to phenomenology, which is a nerdy philosopher’s way of saying: I became sick and tired of drowning in the endless pursuit of knowledge “takes,” wherever I found them: in the normal hum of social media, Substack, podcasts, or magazines. Everything just seemed to turn into a mess of people, including myself, getting more and more tangled up in complex knots over these intricate, abstract non-fiction concepts. Imagine me, a self-declared “deep sense-maker,” realizing it’s all just a circle jerk of mental masturbation, lacking heart and soul, and producing little of consequence.

A life spent in active interpretation of experience lost its charm for me. (And thank goodness!) I found myself drawn to unfiltered, raw experience. What’s interesting about phenomenology, and why I now believe it to be my favorite slice of philosophy, is that it is universal. As is the road where an earnest study of phenomenology leads—which is to the Tao, Brahman, God, awakened awareness, pick your term, as the universe doesn’t care what you call her. And as the Buddha would advise, don’t blindly take anyone’s words here, whether his or especially mine; validate through your own direct experience. What matters is that you can observe and inhabit the nature of your existence. When you do so, instead of playing mental gymnastics—you’ll feel better.

The best way to study your conscious experience, unsurprisingly, is through meditation. If nothing else, it circumvents the endless circle jerk of knowledge “takes.” Before, I meditated quite a lot, sitting every day. But this year, I cranked it up to an eleven, attended a couple of nondual retreats, and committed myself to it with love. Now practice flows on and off the cushion. The “I” in meditation started feeling like a side character, and it opened this weirdly beautiful space in my life that I’m still stumbling around. As for the stumbles, just ask Grace.

3. Hang up the phone (help others get the message)

Alan Watts has an infamous line about psychedelics: “Once you get the message, hang up the phone.” It is a refrain I used to scoff at as only applicable to the prudishly boring. For one, I’ve ingested more drugs—including psychedelics—than probably anyone you know. For two, in my early recovery, the intentional use of psychedelics was undeniably game-changing for me. Without them, I’m not sure if I would have woken up and entirely redirected the course of my life. The person I am today is, in essence, the exact same man I used to be, but also vastly different thanks, in good part, to psychedelics—now a man who harbors a bit less self-doubt and -hatred, a bit freer from the inclination to constantly stretch the truth or manipulate others for my own gain.

This year, I took psychedelics less than I ever have. It has been months since I last took even a microdose, a practice that, when conducted following a judicious protocol, can effectively catalyze recovery and connection. I’m sure this will evolve, but for now, the inclination to tap into this stream of consciousness has diminished for me, likely because the water is now flowing quite peacefully.

It comes as no surprise, then, that my writings on psychedelics is fewer this year than in the past. Yet I still carved out time to write detailed essays on using psychedelics in the context of recovery and the new recovery paradigm we are creating at Natura Care.

I’m proud of the body of work I’ve created on this topic, and I plan to continue to write essays that, hopefully, will shed light on how these sacraments can be catalysts of personal and collective change. My focus is on helping others get the message.

Here are my most read essays from this year, my favorites, encapsulating these three themes:

1. If I Can’t Dance to It, It’s Not My Revolution

2. No More Foreplay, the Universe is Ready to Fuck

3. Living without the Crutch of False Hope

4. Psychedelics as Catalysts for Recovery

5. New Modes of Thinking Are Terribly Necessary to Survive this, um, Batshit Epoch

Also, I kept the English major in me alive and wrote two poetry-esque pieces that I am fond of, this and this, the latter of which is my “most liked” piece ever.

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Three books:

As mentioned, my dharma studies were intense this year, so intense that I mostly devoured books on mediation and consciousness, so please excuse the lack of fiction as per previous years. When something grips me, I have little choice in the matter.

1. Seeing That Frees: Meditations on Emptiness and Dependent Arising by Rob Burbea. This is the best book on meditation I’ve ever read. It’s not a beginner text. But if you treat the contents seriously, the work is profoundly psychoactive and will change your understanding of personhood and reality.

2. No Boundary: Eastern and Western Approaches to Personal Growth by Ken Wilber. I’ve read a good chunk of Wilber’s catalog, and this is my favorite. I think this might be the single best introduction to nonduality, for a Westerner at least. I liked it so much that I made a video about it (when I was making Instagram videos, which lasted for about a month).

3. LSD and the Mind of the Universe: Diamonds from Heaven by Christopher Bache. This is an explosive book that has insane implications on consciousness studies, reincarnation, archetypes, stage theory, and more. If you are interested in the phenomenology of psychedelics, this is a must-read. (We read this together for the DFx book club, which I’m tempted to get going again if anyone wants.)

A few other great books: Emptiness Dancing by Adyashanti, The Heart of Prayer by Rupert Spira, and Shift Into Freedom by Loch Kelly.

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Three Podcasts:

1. Deconstructing Yourself by Michael Taft. The retreats I went on with Michael this year were exceptional. He stands out as a remarkably refreshing nondual teacher, a maverick integrating wisdom from diverse traditions, even Hindu tantra, which I geeked out on for years. His podcast is excellent and his voice will soothe your soul.

2. This Jungian Life. Imagine a podcast with three Jungian depth psychologists from the East Coast—quirky, callous, deep, right? It’s a total delight, especially if you’re into this kind of thing.

3. The Emerald by Joshua Schrei. This is an excellent and unique podcast, which I wrote about here. Fair warning: I find many of the episodes to be long-winded and repetitious. The first half is utter fire, but then I consistently lose interest. I also think that, like many of today’s neo-mythics, the perspective is guilty of making what integral philosophers call a “pre-trans fallacy”: when people might mistakenly elevate pre-rational beliefs (in this case, indigenous and mythic practices) to a higher, transcendent status, missing the critical distinction between magical/mythical stages and genuine trans-rational development. Still, you should listen.

A few other great podcasts: Wisdom of the Masters, Making Sense, and Know Thyself.

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Three cool things I launched:

1. Sons of Now men’s group. This was a major highlight of my year. We have our first in-retreat coming up later this month. If you’re a dude or know a dude who’d like to get involved, apply here.

2. Deep Fix Pod. Finally! After years of wanting to get this off the ground, it’s here. I’m not using any publishing schedule, just following what excites me. Please listen to my convo with

   Holly Whitaker
   if you haven’t yet. Keep an eye out for the release of two more cool episodes, currently in the editing phase, that I'll be sharing soon.

3. The testing group for my first online course. It’s called Life Not Wasted, and in that spirit, I intend it to be a wildly refreshing take on how to overcome modern addiction and awaken. It sold out of the “alpha” testing slots in just a weekend with virtually no promotion, just a plug here in the newsletter and an Instagram story. Thank you so much for your support. Seriously, it’s motivated me enormously. I’m slightly behind schedule, but please stay tuned in the coming months for the next round of “beta” testing if you’d like to get involved.

4. A bonus: my second tattoo.

Happy new year, my friends. May it all flourish for you in 2024. 🖤