Thank you to my partner, music, family, games, holidays, airplanes, meditation, friends, my brain, my heart, animals, food, teamwork, and medicine. Thank you water, technology, snowboarding, science, books, laughter, gravity, dreaming, the sun, yoga, and you.

CHAPTER ONE - WATER

His five-year-old mind was sucking up new abilities like a powerful magnetic force. For little Peter, learning how to swim was the latest in his rapidly growing arsenal of human capacities. Thus far, life was a fun game.

Presently, Peter Sol found himself sitting on the edge of the water participating in his weekly indoor swimming class at the local YMCA. There were two other boys in the group, along with their teacher. On this particular evening, these four characters had the entire pool to themselves.

Although his teacher was only sixteen, she seemed to be far older than Peter could ever imagine becoming. She was pretty to him—with blond hair, a small nose, hazel eyes and a big wide smile. He even liked her name... Carly.

The three boys were given permission to enter the pool, and Peter was able to pick up where he had left off the previous week.

He casually began navigating the warm liquid with the motions his body remembered being taught. Then, Carly blew her pink whistle, and he swam over to the side to join the other boys along the wall.

“Today,” she said pleasantly, “I’m going to take you into the deep end.”

Peter looked outward toward the other side. The indoor swimming area was massive in appearance. A sense of his smallness tickled his awareness as he cast his gaze over the entirety of the room—the huge vaulted ceiling, the broad expanse of water, the enormous glass pane windows. The smell of chemicals only served to increase his intimidation.

However, Peter had already begun to understand the satisfaction that comes from suppressing fear and conquering obstacles. He had learned no reason so far, to see challenge as anything but exploration. So he readied himself and trusted once again.

Carly kicked herself back off the wall and encouraged them to swim out toward her. Together, they all moved up along the length of the pool—staying close to the side and moving at a snail’s pace. Eventually they stopped well into an area they had never been before. Peter clutched the pale blue and white tiled railing. He saw the numbers change from three, where they had started, to eight where they now were. He had an intuitive notion of what that meant.

He had now been taking swimming classes for almost a year. He knew the drill. When they had new skills to learn, Carly would work with them one at a time. Between himself and the other two boys, Peter had the early lead on strongest swimmer. Therefore, she called him out first.

He quickly pushed himself off the wall and reached for the safety of her arms extending out before him.

“Very good,” his teacher said. “Peter, I’m going to let you go now. Keep up the same movement that you were doing in the shallow end and just keep swimming until you reach the other wall. I’m right here next to you.”

He did what he was told. It worked. The deeper water didn’t mean that the motions of his body weren’t as effective as they had been in the shallow end.

“Look at you go,” she said. “Great. You’re a natural!”

The positive reinforcement relieved some of his fear. This is good, this is good, he happily repeated.

It was hard, but he struggled across the deep width of the pool, kicking his legs and extending his arms with power. He felt Carly beside him, and her presence supported his movements. About three-quarters of the way to the other end, Peter noticed her stealth departure from the edge of his vision. She had left him to go help the next boy.

She thinks I can make it the rest of the way on my own.

He was so close to completing his goal, but he still wished he hadn’t seen her leave. Little Peter continued on a bit further, maintaining the habit of motion for a few more strokes. Then, he suddenly felt a stab of panic grab hold of his mind. He lost his momentum and swallowed a small bit of water. Simultaneously, he found himself looking toward the wall ahead, as his legs and arms worked awkwardly. Now, it didn’t seem so close at all. The distance scared him even more than losing his teacher had. His mind was now questioning his capacity to complete what just a few moments before had felt like certain success. Determined, Peter kept his arms moving, leveling out his body, and tried to start moving forward once again. He didn’t get very far before his shoulders began to feel like bricks, and his legs dropped below his torso. In a flash, his mouth was struggling to stay above the waterline. He considered screaming out a moment before he found his eyes searching the distorted world below. Very quickly he became aware of the incredible danger he was in. He thought about how he had not made noise when he had the chance. His mind yearned for that opportunity now. A second too late. He hadn’t called for help, he knew, because he didn’t want to disappoint an adult. I’m good at things, right? This was his problem. Peter wanted too badly—to be good.

The weight of his body sank lower and lower, and he soon found himself approaching the floor of the pool. The boy tilted his head back and looked up. He saw the distant light coming from the ceiling fixture high above. Terror began to wrap around his body like a tight blanket. There was no longer room for much thought. As the panic moved into submission, he noticed something inside his mind begin to crackle; under the colossal weight of water pressure—on the verge of snapping. Although he had never experienced the feeling before, he intuitively knew what it meant.

Over, finished…this is done.

Even as he came face to face with the frailty of his human existence and the resistance to leaving it behind, he felt a more powerful beckoning. Peter touched the awareness of something beyond. And, as he did so, he exploded through the fear of death. Fantastically, he came out the other side into the royal chamber of radiant acceptance. It was a place so peaceful and relaxed that the soul laughed calmly at the remembrance of being frightened. It was only a brief moment of time, but he nestled into the restful embrace of his destiny. Amidst this fresh tranquility of relaxed being, he suddenly sensed a hand grabbing hold of his body. He felt the movement of water rushing by, as he allowed himself to be carried up and up—limply toward the light.

When Peter broke the surface, he was surprised to find that he still cared a great deal about living. He gasped for breath after breath of delicious and necessary air. His lungs teemed with the joy of being able to be of use once again. As his young teacher pulled him out of the water, brought him over to the bench, and enveloped him with a dry towel—he experienced overpowering vibrations of vitality. Carly asked if he was alright. He only had the authority to nod. Inside himself, he was experiencing prevailing sensations well beyond the capacity of words to describe.

Afterward, Peter made no fuss regarding the incident. He didn’t even tell his father or his sister. In fact, he didn’t share the happenings with anyone. He moved on with his life and completely forgot about the whole episode himself.

CHAPTER TWO - AN UNCONVENTIONAL DAD

Daniel Sol was born in a different and much quieter environment than his children, a time with fewer distractions and more opportunity for thoughtful play. He divided people into two groups; those who appreciated the abilities of the mind, and those who did not. As a young man, Daniel decided to plant himself firmly into the first group. He wasn’t sure why, but as soon as he had this realization, exploring the bandwidth of thinking became the theme of his life. Daniel would zoom out to see planet Earth sitting on its’ holdings of gravity and imagine all the forms of life moving about within. He’d picture humans doing a countless number of activities, taking them all too seriously, while their planet hurtled through space. He couldn’t help but look at the entire human species and feel deep compassion for the immensity of the confusion. Somehow, a few important pieces of the puzzle seemed to be missing.

His childhood unfolded in a small farm town in southern Oregon. His family owned a winery and he and his brother were as influential in its success as their parents. From an early age, Daniel and Brian were taught how to perform almost every element of the operation. They toiled in the fields, sorted the grapes during harvest, and operated the tasting room in the summer. As they grew older, the boys developed an understanding of the most important factor—weather.

The Sol’s were fanatical about keeping track of temperature, rain, and sunshine. Timing was everything, especially deciding when the grapes would be at their peak. Daniel would lie awake contemplating, were we right to wait? Today felt pretty darn close to me.

His brother taught him how to step outside his comfort zone. When they’d learn a new skill, Brian would say: “OK, now let’s do it the hard way.” They’d throw a Frisbee using their left arm, snowboard down a mountain with the uncomfortable leg forward, drive a car with the weaker foot, even brush their teeth with the opposite hand. It was their way of saying let’s make sure we’re well rounded before we start getting big ideas about our skills. It was humbling and satisfying. After all, being awkward is usually pretty funny and the perfect starting place for progress.

Brian’s philosophy was to be prepared for life with a strong body, ready for any physical challenge. The mentality sunk deep into his little brother. Even as a grown man, Daniel still believed the body to be a gateway to the spiritual. But he took what being strong meant to another level. What if you have a terribly unlucky accident and become paralyzed? What if ten soldiers are faced down by a thousand? There are sensible limits to the emphasis of physical strength. But the mind, how far can that be taken? He adopted an attitude of fearlessness.

A sharp, reflective mind means that I can be ready for anything. It means I have the ability to deal with disaster, joy, conflict, and responsibility. The message propelled him on the path to eventually becoming a professor of philosophy at one of the most prestigious universities in the country.

At Princeton, Daniel took great pride in creating a classroom environment where exploring truth was promoted as the most crucial element for a successful life.

“The more questions the better,” he’d often declare while leaning against the blackboard. “Question everything. Fear of truth will always lead to a crippled life. Contrary to popular belief, philosophy is not about dropping out—the exact opposite in fact. Philosophy is about tuning in.”

Many of his students didn’t understand what the hell he was talking about; others knew exactly what he meant. Either way, he was not easily forgotten.

Although his career was steady, Daniel failed in his attempt at finding a life partner. He didn’t believe in staying in relationships out of fear of solitude. As soon as he made the decision that a romance wasn’t the right fit, he’d put an end to it. Most relationships seem to be a constant trading of whose roll it is…trying to bridle the other. After so many instances of bewilderment and startle, he simply gave up. I’m tired of trying to figure out whether or not it’s my fault. It was a shame really, as the union of male and female absolutely fascinated him. There was something philosophically brilliant about sex to him. He wondered why humans didn’t take more notice of the majesty of it—the pure, raw, honest intelligence of two human bodies coming together to create mutual joy. Instead, it often seemed as if humans were ashamed of the act.

Although he eventually lost interest in marriage, he didn’t give up on fatherhood. On his forty-second birthday, Daniel clasped a firm hold on the theory of adoption.

There are children that do not have a home, he considered. I have a home with empty rooms, as well as the means to take care of them. I want children; there are children who want a father. I think I could be a pretty good father. What am I doing not embracing this opportunity?!

Adoption, what a harmonizing way for humans to support each other in community. If you were a kid who didn’t have a home, wouldn’t you hope for someone to show you the ropes, give you a chance? Man, being a kid is hard enough already, even with parents who’ve accepted their responsibility.

He settled on Peter and Jo rather quickly. Jo was only three and a half months when he took guardianship over her, Peter just past his second birthday.

From an early age he began teaching his children to recognize and realize their potential, to not be afraid of it, no matter how different it made them feel. He also made sure they knew how much he enjoyed being their dad. He thought back to what his parents used to say to him: “Do you know how much we sacrifice for you?!” He always disliked it when they said that, but never fully understood why, until he became a parent himself, until he took the time to investigate sacrifice. I never want to be objectified, and I never want to objectify my children, he decided. When I do that, I stop acknowledging the reality that I’m interacting with another independent being, with their own set of hopes and motivations. When I objectify, it is only about trying to use someone else to get what I want. I know that place, it’s my lower self. Parents who boast of their sacrifices make it about them and deprive their children of their own individuality.

When he considered the concept even further and asked—would I want someone to sacrifice their happiness in order to please me? The answer came to him in the form of a massive mind-opening awakening.

No way.

Like so many things, it had proven easier said than done—not using Peter and Jo as a method of inflating his own ego—not thinking that they were ‘his.’

As a result of being conscious of his own tendencies, he had great success moving in the more positive directions. Most importantly, his role as a father taught him about the art of giving. Giving gives back to me, he realized. As long as I believe that it actually fills me up.

CHAPTER THREE - STAYERS

“To be your best self, first you have to take the time to know what that is.” These were the first words Jo remembered her father speaking to her.

Daniel had a strategy for helping his kids figure out who they were. As soon as he thought they were capable of making a decision, he’d say: “You choose!”

He’d ask questions, give his opinion, then give it up.

He didn’t demand for Jo to wear a helmet when she rode her bike. Instead he asked: “Why would you want to?” Then they’d have a chat about protecting the body. If she still insisted on not wearing it, that was her choice. The only thing he demanded was that she listened openly.

There were a whole slew of eccentric parenting methods that Daniel implemented.

“I don’t think we should ask for gifts or ever expect them,” he told them. “If someone wants to give something, that’s up to them. Giving a gift should be completely voluntary. Otherwise it defeats the purpose.” Or, he’d suggest: “You might want to try finding time every day to close your eyes while staying awake. Notice the difference in how you feel when your eyes are closed. Do you need time for both? You decide.”

Like many other parents, Daniel was wary of predators. However, his solution was not to keep his children by his side at all times. Instead, when he felt they were old enough to explore on their own, he communicated with them as if they were adults. “Some grownups are ill and confused. Usually it’s because of their own hurtful experiences as children. Don’t be angry or fear them, and don’t think that most people aren’t trustworthy. Just know that a few of us have forgotten how to be good.”

On her sixth birthday, Jo developed her own particular system for living life well. It was on this day that she founded an obsession with never allowing what she considered to be, important happenings, slip away from her memory. She gave these moments a name—Stayers.

The backyard party felt like the most amazing day of her life; games, animals, friends, bubbles and balloons. What more could I want? She thought.

She had just zipped down the Slip ‘N Slide for the seventh time in a row, and was in line for number eight. Unexpectedly, something dramatic occurred. Within this glorious moment of happy anticipation, Jo stopped like a statue, as a bolt of meaningful thought popped into her awareness. What did I do for my birthday last year?

She tried and tried, but couldn’t remember. Not being able to evoke her own personal history bothered her so much that she took herself out of the line.

She walked over to her favorite spot in their backyard, underneath a big oak tree. Jo sat for a few moments pulsing with determination. How can I possibly forget a day as great as today?! She didn’t know why, but she found herself clearing her mind—closing her eyes like her father had taught her, and breathing deeply.

It was the middle of summer, and life was fully blooming. Without thinking, she picked up a red leaf off the top of the grass and began examining it. She looked at all the veins running through it and marveled at the faint passageways that led from the main artery in the middle. Jo traced her finger along the outer edge, feeling its texture and appreciating its pointed tips. She looked at the different shades of red. Then, she slowly started walking toward the house—went upstairs to her room, and put the leaf on the bookshelf next to her bed. It was a tangible symbol which would help her remember.

“Hold on to them,” she whispered to herself as she ran back down the stairs.

Jo dashed out through the back door, sprinted over to the front of the line, and dove freely onto the long plastic mat flowing with a gushing supply of rushing water. It was the first time in her life that she’d ever cut a line. How can I forget doing that?

Soon, she developed a ranking system. Any memory, idea, or thought that she deemed worthy of retaining, was a stayer she’d rank on a scale from one to ten in her little notebook. Then she’d write down an explanation of why she gave it that ranking. Why should thoughts require less organization than anything else?

Her system taught her not only how to keep track of what was happening, but also how to live in the present.

As a teenager, she would listen to friends babble on and on. In most social situations, she noticed that chatter was constant, without many gaps of silence.

The meaning behind the words doesn’t appear to matter very much, nor does stopping to reflect. Most people seem to want to just ‘fill space,’ or ‘get through moments.’

Daniel encouraged his kids to balance time alone with time spent with others. He claimed that spending time alone would allow for greater appreciation when socializing, and also in the reverse. It made sense to her, and Jo tried to split her days up as evenly as possible.

Sometimes the three family members would all sit together wordlessly listening to music one of them had chosen. When they did have discussions, she’d often sit like a sponge; silently soaking up the wisdom of her family.

“Peter, tell me, what do you want most out of this life?” They were spread out in a broken circle, lounging in their favorite chairs, sipping on hot cocoa, and listening to George Harrison on the deck.

“I don’t know, Dad. I guess if I had to say, it would be that I want to reach my potential—whatever that means. But how do I know if I’m reaching it? That’s the question I can’t seem to figure out.”

“Hmm. I don’t’ know if I can give you that answer, but I can share with you this truth: Continue down the path of honest thought and you’ll figure it out. Many people don’t believe in honesty being the best policy. What they have done is severely crippled themselves, and impeded their ability to experience life fully. Don’t do that.

“Remember, believing in honesty doesn’t mean that you have to share everything you think. However, it does mean that you see no reason not to…if it feels right. Honesty creates relationships; love and loyalty—all good things. If someone dislikes you for your vulnerability—that’s their problem. Trying to act a way, instead of being it; is a very slippery slope. Phoniness creates illusions of success that result in short term gain and long term suffering.”

Jo caught her brother sitting up a little straighter and lifting his chin—looking up at the fat yellow moon in the black sky. The look on his face told her how seriously he took those words. It was almost as if she were witnessing her brother embrace a new layer of armor.

But then Jo noticed something else in his eyes. What is that—sadness? It was if in that moment, she saw that Peter was understanding how much work it was all going to take—and how much resilience he was going to need.

Jo and her brother would often read the same books together. She was two years younger than Peter, but could usually keep up fairly well. They took turns choosing what to read. They read countless stories of situations in the past that went horribly wrong. The two siblings taught themselves about places in the world that were currently raging with turmoil.

Suffering seemed to be a thing people did in abundance. Why? She often wondered. Why don’t people want to help each other? Zooming out, humans seemed incredibly immature to her. Why is it so hard to listen to the better books about adventures, real heroes, good deeds, and systems that make sense?

But she also noticed the other side. Even in great books, there is almost always a villain. I seldom hear stories without bad guys in them. Maybe that’s part of the problem? She wondered.

Jo was fourteen and sitting on the floor of her room. Peter was lounging in a big maroon lazy boy beside her. They had been reading silently for about an hour, when a fresh insight occurred to her. Without hesitation, she shared.

“Peter?”

“Yup?”

“I’ve been thinking that maybe our problem is that we don’t have a common goal yet. Humans don’t know what actually makes sense to be doing with our time.”

Her brother smiled and looked up from his book. “That’s pretty good Jo. Feels accurate to me. Maybe we don’t know what to do, because we haven’t been taught?”

“Yes, or taught to care about something that really isn’t important at all.”

She paused. “Perhaps there’s something else we’re missing though? Maybe fitting in is even better than choosing for ourselves?”

Peter was suddenly caught frozen. He slowly closed his book, pushed himself out of the chair, and took a step toward her. He towered over his sister briefly, before kneeling down and meeting her at eye level. His face had an expression of steel and his eyes a determination that was fire in form. After a few moments, she looked away. But when she turned back—he was still there, holding the exact same expression. Finally, Peter stood up and went back to his chair. It was the most serious she had ever seen him get. He didn’t use words to get his point across, and as a result it had a much more intensifying effect.

That was a stupid thing to say, she realized. He’s trying to tell me that I know better. Would I ever really want to turn off my mind and stop listening to my heart…just in order to fit in? Of course not.

She brought her thumb and pointer finger to her chin as she turned her head to look up. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Peter nodded. “Don’t worry about it. It’s good to consider things from all sides. Now we know.”

CHAPTER FOUR - JO’S DAY

It was nearing the end of April and Daniel was driving home following yet another satisfying day guiding young minds. It was a beautiful early-spring afternoon—one that can naturally fill the body with an appreciation for the heat of the sun and the color green.

Daniel knew that this feeling could only be reached after having recently experienced the coldness of winter and the harshness of tragedy. Today is Thursday—Jo’s day, he thought. As he drove through the familiar roads of his neighborhood, he let out a deep breath. The stillness at the end of the exhale gave his body some clarity as he turned onto his street.

When he neared the house, he saw his son lying out on the grass of the front lawn—arms and legs sprawled out in varying angles of comfort. Peter Sol was tall, lean, and muscular. Although not biologically related, he had similar dark-brown hair and eyes as his father. There was a certain easiness and fluidity about Daniel’s son. His relaxed demeanor did not fit into a predictable box.

As soon as he saw the car round the corner, Peter slowly brought himself to his feet.

Daniel pulled into the driveway, turned off the ignition and unbuckled his seat belt. He turned his head and locked eyes with Peter. They smiled at each other slyly before Daniel abruptly pulled the handle, sprang out of the car, thumped the door behind him, and immediately took off running down their suburban street.

Although Daniel wasted no movement, after just a matter of seconds, Peter was jogging along beside him. The father and son resumed a steady pace.

This was their Thursday ritual, and Jo was the one who had decided upon it.

Daniel called to mind Jo firmly directing her family:

“We run to the Plainsboro Reserve, rest for ten minutes at the fountain, then circle the water before running back home. We start immediately when the last person gets home on Thursdays. That’s it!”

The corners of Daniel’s mouth turned up as he pictured his little girl sitting on a kitchen chair, hands interlaced behind her head, boldly delivering her precise instructions.

He moved through the memory, let it go, and came back to the feeling of his body jogging briskly along the sidewalk.

The classical fountain was inlaid with chiseled marble and mythical gods. In the center of the structure was a goddess with a crown—mouth open, water spewing out.

The sound of the rushing water, the satisfaction of physical exertion, and the energy of new spring all combined forces to enliven the moment. Daniel intuitively felt that his son would speak a millisecond before he opened his mouth.

“Dad, can I share something?”

“Of course you can.”

“Well, you see—I’ve been looking around at my friends, at my teachers. I can’t help but feel that something’s very wrong. Sometimes I think everyone’s going to leap out one day and yell: “Surprise Peter! We’ve been playing a big prank on you. This planet is really filled with way more love and common sense than we’ve been making you believe.””

Peter paused for a moment. “You’re not playing a prank on me —are you dad?” He snickered; knowing that he was being ridiculous. “But for real. At school, there’s this feeling in the pit of my stomach that keeps coming back again and again. And I can’t talk to anyone about it, because their response will somehow be related to the problem, I think.”

He stopped to consider—working out his concern in the present moment. “I see that my classmates are motivated, but I don’t think they understand what they’re actually trying to get—money, power, acceptance? The truth is I don’t think they really know.”

Beyond the feeling of being impressed, Daniel allowed himself some time for his own objective consideration. If you don’t understand, life is a very scary experience. When you recognize what’s happening and learn why, no matter how harsh the reality, living becomes a whole lot more bearable.

Daniel wobbled his head and stirred himself back to where he was. “I remember being your age. I told myself I would never forget what it was like to be a kid, and I haven’t. I think you are totally right. When I was a boy, I had no idea what I really wanted or why. What I remember most, is the pressure I felt to aggressively ‘get girls.’ Wow did I fall so deep into that trap!

“Now, I understand that life is all about taking chances. Now, I can ask a woman out without losing my peace. But I still remember the boy, the boy who wanted the girl friend, wanted the experience. That boy didn’t have the teachings, didn’t have the understanding of life yet. The answer ‘no’ could tear him up in a flash, and depress him for weeks.

“To be scared shitless of taking a chance is no way to live Peter. For much of my childhood, I wasn’t free. There was too much the boy had to do—had to get, and had to win at.

“All because I didn’t know what I was going for. I didn’t know what really mattered to me.”

Daniel waited—feeling a gust of wind blow his way as he stretched out his arms and separated his fingers.

“Most of your friends are probably going through the same thing. I’m sure they feel a wealth of pressure—from a thousand different directions. Remember that, and remember to be easy on them with your own judgments. You’re right to think everyone’s playing a prank on you. I only wish it were true. Still, it’s just a phase of evolution.”

“What do you mean exactly—that it’s a phase of evolution?”

“Hmm. Okay, let me put it this way. The fact that you and I are having this conversation is proof that humankind is waking up. We are also not alone—there are plenty of others out there taking actions of progression too.

“Things will change, but patience is hard as hell.”

“You really believe we’re progressing? I’m not so sure. All my friends seem to care about is what they’re owed and who likes them. And I can feel that pull myself. They think that if they keep making me feel crazy, that I’ll give in. But to me, giving in to a life of trying to impress others—that’s the crazy! I just wonder what’ll happen when I don’t.”

Daniel was always proud, but sometimes there were weighty bubbles of satisfaction that penetrated and filled his heart with appropriate amounts of meaning. He had no idea what Peter would do with his life, but standing there with the sun descending, and the water rushing—he glimpsed the depth of how unordinary it had the potential to be.