May 27, 2026
Dear Leland and Everett,
During my third journey, there was a point where I sat at the intersection of light and dark. I felt a tremendous amount of tension, and recognized that light and dark were in the process of pulling apart. I understood in that moment we, each individually, were going to have to choose whether we would insist on holding onto the dark parts within us; if so, those dark parts would pull us down an increasingly dark path. The only other option was to let go of the dark parts, to let more light flow through.
Part of the solution, I began to understand, was creating at the intersection between light and dark. Letting the darkness surface would allow us to see it, recognize it, and let it go. And letting the light enable creation would unleash more beauty than we would be able to summon otherwise.
One of the primary benefits of writing these letters to you has been the implied encouragement to be my best self. An author I follow encourages writing with a specific audience (ideally one or two people) in mind. He observed in himself that when he tries to write for a generic audience (e.g. everyone) what emerges is drivel. I would struggle similarly if I attempted to write for everyone. For me, writing the two of you encourages me to write from the place of my higher self. You two don’t care about the petty inconveniences I experience. By the time you read these letters, the temporary, small, petty encounters to which my ego attaches will be long dead and meaningless. If I want the two of you to get anything meaningful from these writings, they have to capture something more timeless. Moreover, being your dad is the role that most inspires me to be my best self. So writing the two of you encourages me to put down my petty interests and focus on the things that really matter.
Part of what I wonder, as I write, is whether my attempt to write as my best self impedes my ability to access certain thoughts and breakthroughs. I honestly don’t know, but somehow feels related to something I want (need?) to explore.
I’ve alluded to this before, but I feel a strange, unpleasant energy these days. It’s part of why I’ve struggled sleeping: I feel an energy I can’t place, but don’t like and don’t know what to do with. And, as I’ve mentioned previously, I see evidence that others are experiencing similar energy all around me. To add to examples I’ve cited previously, I recently learned a close friend of ours has stage four colon cancer. Now, when someone is looking around for examples of the color blue, they will find lots and lots of blue in their lives; when they look for the color red, they will stop noticing nearly as much blue and will start noticing red instead. So my sensing an energy and being on the lookout for examples of it almost certainly becomes self-reinforcing. And yet, I’m fairly convinced something is afoot.
None of this is particularly new territory, and indeed I’m somewhat confused and surprised that I feel sorta compelled to revisit what feel like topics I’ve already covered. But there seems to be something here I need to unpack, perhaps something I haven’t seen or uncovered before.
Some of what I see merely feels like a continuation of past themes. Several times I’ve invoked the idea of a coming storm. To some degree these newer developments feel like the beginning of the storm, as the rain begins and the waves begin to surge. Unfortunately I believe we are at the beginning of the storm, and have a long way to go.
Perhaps part of the point is just to reiterate some of what I have already explored, and to suggest we appear to be right on track: the storm is arriving, and the way to navigate the storm, primarily, is to let go of the darkness within us, so that it doesn’t take us permanently down the dark path. The path to doing so, counterintuitively, appears to be steering into the storm.
I mentioned before that I have a couple friends going through the early stages of divorce. Assuming these divorces proceed, you are likely to remember them: these are families with kids you enjoy getting to see periodically. Directionally, my sense in both marriages is that the couples are being invited to “steer into the storm” and let the storm identify and rip away the things that are meant to be let go. In the process, each individual has the opportunity to experience renewal as an individual, and from that place they have the opportunity to experience renewal as a couple. In both situations, my overarching sense is that at least one party is attempting to avoid the invitation to experience renewal, and would prefer to blame the other party for whatever unhappiness they are experiencing. The outcome is pursuit of divorce rather than the pursuit of renewal. I’m pretty convinced that those pursuing divorce are, at best, kicking the can down the road: they are attempting to steer around or away from the storm, not recognizing that the storm will continue its pursuit regardless. In this context, I’m pretty convinced the internal demons fomenting divorce will continue leaving a wake of destruction unless and until my friends find the strength to surrender those demons.
And therein lies part of my struggle: my sense that, by holding onto their demons, my friends are spreading suffering unnecessarily. Whether they eventually surrender their demons or not, these folks are hurting themselves, their partners, and their kids by pursuing divorce without pursuing renewal first. [To be clear: I’m open to the possibility that these folks could experience renewal and, as a result, decide to divorce; I just don’t think that’s what’s happened in these cases.] And I think these specific cases serve as microcosms for my broader struggle: the sense that we are engaging in the spread of unnecessary suffering precisely because we’re unwilling to let go of the demons that create the suffering.
I most definitely have hope, even if I think thing are likely to get substantially worse before they start to noticeably improve. Eventually, people get tired of suffering: this has been a pretty universal theme amongst the stories of spiritual journeys I’ve encountered. This period of suffering is already creating an increase in the number of people looking for new answers in new places.
Unfortunately, most people I encounter seem to be nowhere near ready to admit their egos have failed them. Like the girl in the walkway, we have to be willing to admit that we ourselves (or, more accurately, parts of ourselves) are the problem before we can begin to identify and pursue strategies that might reduce our frustration and suffering. But also like the girl in the walkway, until we are willing to accept the invitation to change, we are doomed to experience different versions of the same frustration repeatedly. I see a world filled with different versions of the girl in the walkway, and wish there was something I could do to help.
Of course, folks initiating divorce are no longer just the girl in the walkway. The girl in the walkway appeared stuck, trapped in a prison of her own design. But beyond her expressions of exasperation, her suffering was her own. Divorce is an action that begins to spread suffering, and perhaps that is part of my concern: I am seeing folks transitioning away from suffering in isolation but beginning to spread their suffering. I very much see the current rise of communism (and populism more broadly) as born of the same energy as my friends’ divorces: internal demons hijacking individual and collective behavior in an attempt to avoid the coming storm, leaving a wake of destruction and suffering behind.
I have long known (or, at least, strongly suspected) that the coming storm would lead many folks to flee, and increase suffering (theirs and others) as a result. Now that we’re here, I find it harder to witness than perhaps I anticipated.
The good news, to the extent I have some, is that I think the solutions are pretty clear. The masculine energy in each of us has to find the will to set boundaries and say ‘no’ to bad behavior. To be incredibly clear: those boundaries have to come from a place of love, and an ability to separate the action (‘what you did was not okay’) and the potential implication (‘you are not okay’). It’s quite clear to me that most of the boundaries we try to set come from a place of ‘how dare you?’, which is just an extension of ‘you are not okay’. People subconsciously feel and know the difference between boundaries backed by ‘you are loved, but your action was not okay’ and ‘how dare you? what is wrong with you? you are not okay’. Those who can have to learn to set loving boundaries.
And then the feminine energy in each of us has to submit to the experience of renewal. We need to experience some ego death, some surrender, some letting go. We have to let our bodies and souls conspire with the universe to identify where our demons lie in order that we might let them go. When done at scale, we will see something of a mass awakening, where we will experience renewal individually, as families, as institutions, as nations, and as a species. We will process a tremendous amount of grief in a relatively short amount of time (at least by historical standards). And, as a result, we will interact with each other with far more understanding, empathy, and trust. We will release our need to control and manipulate each other, and we will begin to discover and appreciate just how much of our energy (both individually and collectively) went into controlling and manipulating each other. In the process, we will free up a tremendous amount of human energy to pursue more meaning and purpose than at any time in recorded human history.
But the experience won’t be universal. Many will cling to their egos and the internal demons directing those egos. They will continue to exist in a prison of their own making. To the extent possible, their internal demons will look to imprison others and solidify the prison’s security. They will absolutely retain their right to suffer, and to spread suffering to others. But those willing to set clear boundaries will discover the ability to limit the scope and spread of the suffering, and create safe spaces for those willing to experience renewal.
What I am describing is likely to take not just years, but decades or potentially even a few generations. What this implies is that you are likely to come of age in a world that sees more darkness unleashed than at any time in at least 80 years, and likely much longer than that. You are unlikely to know firsthand the level of ego domination that led to this spread of darkness and suffering. Your generation is unlikely to be captured by your egos to the degree that my generation (and the generations before) were. The implied good news is that the suffering will diminish as those who are controlled by their egos (and, thus, their inner demons) die off, and the generations who grew up outside of prison (or, at least, with more porous prison cells) come of age. The better news is that the old among us are by no means condemned to die in a state of suffering: I am living testimony of the potential for renewal. I am far from the only existing example, and the examples are only going to expand with time.
For me, this is largely a reminder to steer into the storm. I’m aware of this invitation, but find myself resisting nonetheless. Writing these letters is part of my conscious attempt to combat the resistance, and I’m curious to see where they lead me.
I have a friend who has an exciting business opportunity in front of him. As far as I can tell, everything is pretty well lined up for him to take action…only he hasn’t. He’s afraid, mostly for generic reasons (e.g. this particular business opportunity doesn’t appear to expose him to a lot of financial risk, even if it does expose him to feeling more alive at his job). This friend and I enjoy hearing about each others’ adventures, partly because we see ourselves in each other. I wish I could say I understood what opportunity I’m resisting as well as I understand my friend’s. But isn’t that the inevitable truth: it’s much easier to diagnose what others should do, and much harder to diagnose what we ourselves should do.
And so, though these letters only help me chip away one portion at a time, they do help me clarify my thinking. If nothing else, they appear to be decluttering my head a little, which makes space for new inspiration.
A friend of mine gave me a quote (which I think he attributed to David Whyte): if you look down and see a path, it’s not your path. There comes a point in the spiritual journey that feels like hacking away through the jungle: you have a vague sense of where you are going and why, but cannot see the path and could not explain to a skeptic why you need follow said path. That’s a little how I feel these days, and today in particular. This letter doesn’t uncover any grand insights, but it does help me hack through another step in the jungle.
I love you both.
Love,
Dad
Letters to Leland 