It’s a Condition, Not an Excuse

I was reading a novel recently.

I love fiction.
A really good author doesn’t just tell a story—they teach you something about life without you even realizing it.

One of my favorite authors actually started as a child psychologist.
I’ve been reading his books since the ’80s, and woven into the stories are these subtle, powerful insights into human behavior.

It’s like therapy… disguised as entertainment.

There’s something that starts to happen as we get older… we begin to rely on a little help to see clearly. Glasses. And I’m officially in that club now. Not just for reading words—but for seeing things up close… objects, details… reality itself, apparently.

I don’t eat breakfast much,
but this concept of Overnight Oats sounds interesting to me.

Do a little preparation,
throw it in the refrigerator…
and in the morning,
you’ve got a nice, healthy breakfast ready for you.

I recently was on a road trip. I love road trips… but I have to be very cautious with how my body responds to them.

Unfortunately, the day I left, I picked up a bug.
Not the kind that sits on your windshield looking in asking for a ride to California… a real one. Nose, chest—the whole deal.

So I asked myself: What would Arun do?
I channeled my Jedi master.

We all have pet peeves.

I remember the first time I heard my parents say that as a kid…
but what I heard was pet pigs.

And I remember thinking,
“How come I don’t have one?”

Does Your View Follow You Into Every Avenue of Your Life?

I’ve been contemplating something lately that I’ve had a hard time putting clearly into words, but I’m going to attempt it today.

It’s the idea that our philosophy — our view of life — must eventually permeate every avenue of our life.

We all need people who champion us.

The ones who stand beside us, who believe in us, who remind us of who we are when we forget. Those people are immeasurably important — and I’m grateful for them every day.

But today I want to plant a different seed.

Who are the people who truly reflect you?

“I am like you.
I am different from you.
I am nothing but you.”

This is one of my favorite sayings from the tradition of one of my teachers.

What an interesting word.

It’s one I’ve found myself using lately — both in yoga and in my work as an IT engineer.

For over 30 years I’ve watched technology evolve. Systems change. Hardware changes. Threats change.

Two weeks ago, one of my clients was hit with ransomware — one of the worst things that can happen to a business at a digital level.

But here’s the thing:

If your business identity is stored in an immutable location — untouched, unchangeable — you’re golden.

Many of us want to move our agenda forward.
We want to shape the day, the project, the family — scripted in a way that feels good and safe for us.

And I don’t see this as wrong.

Our desires are shaped by experience — by what has made us feel safe, successful, and grounded — and naturally we want to share that with the people around us… our kids, our parents, the people we work with and care about.

But there is a second force at work here.

Those are three words that, in my experience, can do more harm than many of the tools we unknowingly carry in our arsenal to wound one another — especially children.

Our voice is one of the primary ways our character, our inner state, our joy, and our connection are expressed.
Yes, body language communicates… but voice carries vibration. Voice carries emotion. Voice carries presence.

Many of us — myself included — grew up hearing the phrase “Be seen, not heard.”

Welcome to February, my friends.

I want to start by checking in with you.

If you made a few small changes at the beginning of the year, how are they going for you now?
How have you met the challenges of doing something new?

Are you noticing shifts that feel sustainable, or are there still places where it’s hard to keep the rhythm?

I’ve been right there with you.

“Boy, you’re gonna carry that weight
Carry that weight a long time…”

That line has always stayed with me.
Some of you might catch the Beatles reference.

Sometimes it feels like our problems — especially the repeating ones — just keep getting heavier. The longer they go on, the more weight they seem to carry. And eventually, that burden can become so consuming that it’s hard to see anything else… or feel anything else… besides the weight itself.

As the New Year rolls in, many of us feel that familiar urge to change our lives.

New year. New rules. New version of me.

And often… we go big.
Really big.

Yoga Therapy teaches something beautiful about this:
when we move to one extreme, the energy of the opposite is already gathering, waiting to swing us back.

I’ve lived this one personally.

Good Enough?

I have a friend who, when you ask him how he’s doing, simply says, “Good enough.”

At first, I thought that sounded limiting — almost like settling.
But the more I sat with it, the more I realized something quietly profound was hiding inside those two words.

As we step into a new year, it’s easy to feel the pressure to change everything at once. Big goals. Big resolutions. Big bites.

Lately, I’ve been choosing something quieter — inch by inch movement.

I want you to know I’m right in this with you. I’m making small, imperfect, human choices too. One of mine has been around food — choosing a bit more intention, a bit more nourishment, and letting that be enough for now. Not every meal. Not every day. Just enough to build momentum.

Welcome to the week the holidays begin.

Before the gatherings, before the meals, before the travel—
I invite you to pause and ask yourself one simple question:

What is my biggest challenge with the holidays?

Take a moment right now and actually name it.