On a given night, you’ll find me teaching a beginning meditation class at the Zen temple where I live, fighting Kendo, serving tea, doing ceramics or with my face illuminated by a computer screen...
Three years ago, my life had a lively and bucolic rhythm. At the time, I was attending business school at Stanford and living in a bathroom-less shack nestled in the woods of Menlo Park, California.
Most mornings, I would wake myself up with asana yoga practice before 6AM, then do some Vipassana meditation to set my mind for the day. I would pull a tarot card before I left my shack to see what kind of day it might be and burn some sage. My favorite class in business school was colloquially called "Touchy Feely", an intense introduction to emotional intelligence and interpersonal psychology that was the kind of science-backed pseudo-spirituality Silicon Valley loves.
Unbeknownst to me, I was one of many victims of the Information Age and globalization, armed with just enough spiritual knowledge to be dangerous—dangerous to myself and my own long term development, but thankfully only envy- or eyeroll-inducing to others.