Day.
Welcome back to the podcast.
I'm so happy you're returning.
Thank you.
I'm so happy to be here.
Yeah.
You know, I was thinking today, I, I have been lucky enough to have a handful of
people that have returned for a second or even a third conversation, and it's
really cool to see how conversations.
Expand and shift over years.
So I'm excited for this.
They're, they're
alive, right?
Yeah.
They grow.
Yeah.
They're rooted.
They grow, they change.
Yeah.
I'm happy to, happy to keep it alive with you.
Yeah.
Thank you.
So we started chatting over email several months ago, like late 20, 24, I think.
And there was a line in your initial email that really jumped out at me,
and this is where I wanna start.
You wrote to me, I'm on a mission to support individuals navigating
transitions and healing through ritual.
Mm-hmm.
We didn't know what late January, February, March, April, and so
on was gonna look like in 2025.
And so now here we are, late spring, navigating a whole lot of transition
and chaos and, um, I'm, I'm really interested in how you feel about
your work in this particular moment.
What's speaking to you in this moment about your work?
Yeah, I'd say, I mean, when you first said that, when you just reread my comment
to me, 'cause I forgot what I wrote.
Um, I'd say the first thing that came to mind was, is this time different?
Hmm.
Is it.
I just, it's funny that that's the question that's
coming up for me right now.
I just, last week, um, opened in a major art exhibit in San Francisco and, um,
and without going too deeply into it, um, it's been in the works for two years
and it, originally it was inspired by my desire to reinvent one of my cultural.
Ritual objects.
Um, a Jewish ritual object called the Seder plate, which
is connected to Passover.
Hmm.
I, that's, I knew I wanted to, to play with that because it's very
much for us, an altar, um, on the table and the objects on it are.
Organic and grown and you know, it's like, it's a kind of like my cultural alter,
impermanent art alter, which is what I do.
And um, and I knew I wanted to reinvent that.
I didn't know what I wanted to do.
Thank God we want a grant where I could dream for over a year
into the vision and, um, and actually dreaming into that vision.
Um, in the middle of that dreaming October 7th happened in Israel.
Mm-hmm.
And, um.
Fast forward, like almost six months later, just a rise
of antisemitism globally.
And then last year at my own table, at my own Passover table, there was argument and
there was division, and there was like too much certainty and opinion at the table,
and it felt like my table broke in half.
Um, and that experience, which was deeply disturbing and I had to mend a lot of
friendships and relationships because friends became strangers at the table.
Um, that, that unfortunate experience actually gave birth to the vision
for this art installation, um, which was the reinvention of the
Seder plate into six broken tables.
Hmm.
Right.
And so in the exhibit, the audience goes, they enter into the room ritually.
They go through each table, and each table is set like it is for Passover, beautiful
dishes and wine and whatnot, except all the tables are broken in half and they're
shards emerging from the broken pieces.
And then the elements from the Seder plate are emerging from the shards.
And so for instance, one table, it has bones just jutting out of them.
Another table has eggshells just sitting on the edge of the shards.
Another table has salt water dripping from the shards, right?
And so it's very interactive.
There's a whole sound experience with it, and it ends.
I'm getting to your question.
I'm
loving this.
It
ends after they, they move to the plant table, which has all of these
greens that are growing from the broken pieces, almost like an apocalypse
where nature's just kind of growing from the broken back hole again.
Um, after that, there's a light.
Um, it's called a gobo, which means like it's a projection of light
that has words on it, and it's both in Hebrew and in English.
And it says, um, in Hebrew it says Manish Tanana.
And in English it's, it means what makes this time different.
And so as they leave this experience, which is deeply.
Unsettling, provocative kind of it's art, so it's including everything.
It's not taking a side, it's just helping people experience
the brokenness of this time.
The question that they're being asked as they leave this ritual
space is what is this time different?
Is it, and if so, if this time is different, what is required of us now
that is different than other times?
And that is the landscape of ritual, right?
Like rituals are done most of the time to mark entering into something
new and exiting something else.
It's the, it is the landscape of the interstitial of the InBetween.
So we, and that could be as easy as like waking up and starting your day
or ending your day and going to bed.
I do a nighttime ritual, takes me 10 seconds, but it's a marker
that I'm leaving the day and I'm entering into the night.
And so, and then Ritual asks that question like, is this different?
Yes.
I don't have any responsibilities.
I don't need to worry, you know, I can put down my to-dos like at nighttime.
That is different.
I. So rituals always asking us that question, is this time different?
And so when it comes to your question about, you know, you raised up post
January 15th or whatever, whenever we entered into this chaos, um, the question
is, is the time, is this time different?
And if so, what different skills and different communications and different
awareness and different speeds are needed from us in this different landscape?
So instead of me answering the question, I'm doing something that's very
enculturated for me, which is to an ask your question with a question and ask
like, I don't know, what do you think?
Like, I'm not here with answers, but I'm here with curiosity.
Is this time different?
There's, there's so much in that response Day.
Um, and I, I wanna respond to a sorry and You're welcome.
No, I love it.
Thank you.
Um, I wanna acknowledge, like, I feel a huge amount of emotion from the
description of that art installation.
I'm also Jewish, I can't remember if we talked about this.
I didn't know that.
Um, and that I can feel the power in.
In what you described and, um, imposing the questions.
So thank you for that.
And I'm like, I'm the clamped.
Um, and
is this time different?
You know, I, I don't have answers and I'll tell you what I feel is that.
Well, can I, can I stop you there?
Do you mind?
Yeah,
sure.
Please.
Because what you just said is, instead of that being almost like a road bump
mm-hmm.
Which I
think maybe was intentional, I would ask you to consider
that as a navigational system
for
the times.
Mm-hmm.
Meaning I don't have answers.
Right.
Instead of like, unfortunately, I don't have the answer for you.
Could it be that that is actually what should guide us because there's
10,000 answers around us every day.
Yes, and opinions and certainties and I know what's right and I know what, right.
And like so little curiosity.
So little nuance.
So little willingness to say, I don't know, let's wonder about this together.
So instead of that being the road bump, could that be the Yeah,
no, I don't have answers either.
But isn't it something to wonder about that this time could be different.
Right.
Isn't that something to wonder about?
And if so, what does that mean for us?
And so I just, I would like to just pull the thread through, especially for those
that are listening and, and suggest that in these times, and especially if we are
entering into new Times, which is the landscape or ritual, could it be that.
Wonder, curiosity, awe, humility.
Those are the skills of these times.
Not more certainty, not more opinion, not more hardening of
our hearts, not more polarization.
You know, can we resist the urge on social media and in our communities and
families to be on a quote unquote side because it's safer in that way, and can
we create more landscape for wonder?
Day.
I, um, I recently read, uh, one of a million lists that are out there
right now about ways of taking care of ourselves or ways of resisting.
There's all these lists everywhere, okay.
Most of which have some lovely things and a lot of repetition.
Uh, but there was this one that really stuck with me and it, I'm
thinking of it as you're talking, and one of the points on the list was.
To create a folder, whether on your phone or physical and name it way points, and
put things in it that help you navigate.
Mm. And I loved that invitation.
Mm-hmm.
So much.
And I feel a little bit of that as you're talking.
It was just it.
It's not a map with like, here's the straight line and you're
gonna go right here and know exactly where you're gonna end up.
But can we start to gather pieces that help us find our way?
Yeah, exactly.
Yeah.
Help us find, I mean, even.
That's wonderful.
I wanna just period.
That's great.
And I write and teach quite a bit about the spell of destination addiction.
Mm-hmm.
And that, you know, my, the, the modality that I teach morning altars, it's
the first step is wonder and wander.
So it's about kind of stepping out of the need for answers, stepping out
of the need for destination, allowing ourselves to meander both in conversation
and with our bodies physically.
And exercise the muscle of not knowing, not from a place of a problem, but from
a place of exploration, discovery, um, relationships, like all of these things.
And so, you know, Navi, my.
My almost allergy to talks of navigations is that there's a, there.
There.
Hmm.
That there's like someplace we're trying to get to, trying to get back to
maybe even, and I think that's a very problematic perspective Now, navigational
systems, that's the language I used before when I talked about curiosity.
Like, yes, we do need to know how to move through the times that
we're in, as long as there isn't a deep hope that we get there.
Yeah.
Because that's where people really underneath, they're like, they
just wanna hurry this pro part up.
They just wanna get through the hard part.
Mm. So we can get to the thing that we really want to get to.
Right.
And that's where it be, can become dangerous.
And so the skills, the navigational skills and from a ritualistic
standpoint are slowing down.
Right, we're entering into something else, um, inventorying and letting go.
What is needed?
Do I need to carry this mindset with me?
Do I need to carry the, these relationships?
I don't know, do I need to have me on social media?
All the, just getting a sense of inventory of what's needed, um,
asking fundamental questions.
That you think you know the answers to, but resurrecting those questions.
Um, so these are the, these are my navigational systems when it
comes to entering into moments of transition and transition, the most
important thing around transitions.
And this is so easy and so hard at the same time.
Is that the first thing?
First and last thing?
The question you should be asking is, am I in a transition?
Because if you, if you don't ask the question, more often than not, you
assume you're, you're through it, right?
Or you're, or you haven't entered into it.
But if we can keep asking like, are we still in the transition?
Are we still in an in-between space that can help inform us of
these other skills that are needed?
Hmm.
So
we have to keep on asking that without fear and without a hope
that we're through it, you know?
And in some ways it cult, it's a cultivation of a skill of
tolerance for uncertainty.
Hmm.
Right.
And that's what's needed right now.
Yeah.
I, um.
When I talk about meditation often, what I talk about is that this practice of, of
being still and being with yourself as it is in the moment, it's this practice of
building a tolerance for the truth of what we're experiencing in any given moment.
So I think that's a really interesting overlap.
Yeah.
And then I, I want you to talk a little bit more about what it means to, um.
Incorporate, I, I, I think I wanna use the word incorporate ritual into
these transitional moments when it's not, you know, it's interesting because
to say a transition like I'm 40 and I'm becoming 41, is a very defined
transition, and what we're talking about is not a defined amount of time.
And so what does that look like to bring?
But not all of them.
Not all of them are.
Yeah.
For instance, like, I'll give you a, I mean, a really.
Complicated transition that I'm in, but I can simplify it with another example.
But, you know, my mother's had dementia now for six years, seven years.
Um, she's been slowly losing her mind and, you know, are we still in this?
It's very unclear where we are with my mom right now.
You know, like, yes, we're still in dementia.
Yes.
She's still alive.
Is she still my, my, is she still the mother I knew?
Not really.
You know, there's a lot of uncertainty inside of this transition.
The same thing, by the way, when my father died, like when, like did
the transition of my father's death, did that end the moment he died?
Did that end after the funeral?
Did that end?
A week later, a month later, a year later, am I still in
my father's death transition?
Sometimes I am, you know, and so, um, not all, and most actually I would say
are not clearly defined transitional.
I'm in it, I'm out of it.
And so much of my work, I just taught a New Year's workshop, um, in January
every, we did it for four weeks.
Every time we gathered, I asked one simple question, are we still in the new year?
Because the workshop went into February, you know, and it's like,
if we are still in the new year, then certain things are available to us.
And if we're not.
We're in the year and we can't be in the, the, you know, the transitional
moments where things are still malleable.
And so a lot of my work when it comes to ritual and transitions is asking
people to consider softening the boundary of when it started and when it
ends, and therefore not being so sure.
And staying curious, am I still in this?
And it gives so much more space and permission, um, than otherwise,
than, oh, I need to know the answers, or I need to know where I am,
or I need to know what, this is.
One more example.
Um, my best friend who I've known now for 30 years, I helped her, I introduced
her to her husband 29 years ago.
I helped her get divorced two years ago.
And she's two years out of her divorce from him.
And she's still very much in the question of who is he to me?
Right?
The transition from the divorce that didn't end when they
separated, that didn't end.
When, you know, they got divorce papers, they still have two kids together.
Like she's still in that consideration.
And so, and a lot of that is coming from me, like saying, don't be so convinced
that you're on the other side of this.
Hmm.
You know, and so ritual helps us mark transitions so that we
can be in the interstitial in between fuzzy, unknown, hazy.
I don't need to know, I'm dreaming.
This is like, I'm, I'm kind of in the, you know, just in that stumbles
of the in-between space that has a place, but it doesn't when we
think we should be out of it.
So the
ritual marks a boundary so we can allow ourselves to be
properly in the in-between.
So can you share with us an example of a ritual that comes to mind for you,
um, to, to, to create that sense of softening and lingering in the space.
Um, sure.
Yeah, there are ritual.
Let's see what comes to mind now.
Um, I mean, I was thinking I was, I gave you the example of the nighttime
ritual, but I think I'd like to give you a better example of something that
allows us to be in that in-between space.
Um,
let me think.
I.
There's a ritual for death anniversaries.
Um, I wrote about one in my book specifically for pets, and there is
a time in the year when my last dog, when I put her down and, um, and the.
The ritual that I do, that I, well, so when I put her down, I did a ritual
where I actually took her leash and I cut it and I wore it for a year.
And the reason I did that is because I was inspired by my own cultures, um, rendering
of garments when there's a death.
And we do.
In my culture, we do.
Um, and in your culture, our culture, we do, I think death pretty well.
We don't do dying well at all, but when it comes to death, it's very human centric.
We don't really have a lot of tradition or guidance around animals.
And so when I put my dog down, my last dog down, um.
There was nothing really to do, but it was like the most heartbreaking transition I
had been in, definitely since my father.
Um, and so I knew, I, I knew I wanted to do something.
I knew I was in this in-between space.
I was grieving, I was missing her.
I was, um, I was like really in a hard place with that
death, with this little one.
And so, um, I. In the spirit of rendering garments, I took her leash, which as
soon as she died, had no purpose to it.
Mm-hmm.
And I cut off the part with the little clip, and I wore that clip with a little
bit of her leash on my jacket for a year.
What did that do?
What did that mark, going back to your question, so the first thing it did
was it reminded me that I was grieving.
So for a year, I gave myself a year 'cause I loved her so much for a year to grieve.
Why did I need a reminder?
Because it's very easy to get seduced by everyday life.
Worth the to-do lists and the, you know, and meetings and taxes and
emails and you know, like helping, um, repairing things in my household,
helping with my community, like it's very easy to leave that space of grief.
Wearing this leash reminded me I am still very much in an in-between space.
I'm grieving.
I don't know how to be social.
Some of the time I don't.
Some of the time things are messy and that's okay.
Right?
But what else does that do?
Wearing the leash, it also is a rec, it can be after some con
conversation, but it can be an identifiable thing to someone else.
So I've been in more than one situation where someone would come up
to me and say, what are you wearing?
What that question does is it lets me a remind myself that I'm grieving, um, in
between that, in that interstitial space.
Number two, it informs them of where I am so they can relate to me differently.
And then the third thing it does is it gives me an opportunity to remember my
beloved right to tell her story and to.
That is the, that is really, really, really important in the space of grief is
to be witnessed and to tell our stories.
So just to going back to your question, 'cause it took me a second to be like,
what am I, what do I wanna share?
You know, the markings help us identify boundaries so that we can
allow ourselves to be properly in this space, in the in-between space.
And so that leash example is a like a really.
Beautiful boundary marker.
So beautiful.
And you know, Day, I'm so grateful for this conversation.
Thank you.
And I don't know that I would've necessarily been able to articulate this
until this moment, but I'm realizing, and I'm voicing what I was believing
because maybe there are other listeners who have been thinking in the same way.
I have, I have realized that I have been looking at.
Ritual as an end marker.
Ah, and not as, uh, in that example you gave, I could completely feel the
space that that allowed and it was not a, I'm gonna do this thing to say that
now I am done grieving and moving on.
Right.
And.
That's such a huge shift.
I can feel how different it feels to think about ritual allowing us to hold
a broader space versus Mark the end.
Something and the start of something new.
Mm-hmm.
Um, this and that feels unbelievably important for where we are right now.
Mm-hmm.
Yeah.
It's a, it, it is the book ends of a container.
Mm-hmm.
And it's a, um, you know, this is a quote from.
Uh, rabbi Joshua Heschel referring to the Sabbath, but I
think it's applicable here too.
He calls the Sabbath, but I'm calling ritual space an island in time, right?
It's a, it is just a temporary island that we can stand on in the midst of
an ocean of uncertainty, but it gives us a place to stand temporarily so that
we can be as we are, you know, rest.
Slow down, make meaning, find beauty, connection, be witnessed, all of
the things that these in-between spaces need of us, but they create
these temporary sacred spaces, pardon the popular term these days,
unfortunately, but it creates an island.
Time and the island is timelessness.
That is what the island is.
When we're grieving or celebrating, or when there's things changing, we
need to step out of some of it a lot of the time so we can make sense of
things that don't make sense, right?
We need those reprises.
We can't just carry on with every day and make sense of what's happening.
Yeah.
So
we need to have these little or sometimes big spaces where we can get lost, not
know, dream, wander, play, experience.
All of the things feel so that when we move th from that temporary
island in time, back into time, we can carry more understanding and
more meaning with us, and that can help us move through what we're in.
How would you guide listeners to, because what I'm sensing is, um,
and maybe I'm wrong, so correct me if I'm wrong please, but I, I'm sort of
feeling like this invitation is also.
An invitation for the individual to create what is needed in that ritual.
Is that right?
And if so, how would you guide us to create something that feels.
Like that container?
Well, I guess the question, it's, it's, it's not wrong.
You asked me if you're asking the wrong question.
I think, I think the question itself has a bit of a destination to it.
Hmm.
Um, and, you know, look, let me back up and say when, when we're
talking about ritual, um, it's really important to recognize that
most don't get off the ground.
Just because there is a ritual, it doesn't necessarily mean it's meaningful.
I've been in my fair share of people creating rituals where
I'm like, what is happening here?
I don't understand, or I don't want to be here, or whatever it is.
It doesn't, just because it's made doesn't mean it, it, I. There's liftoff, um,
rituals are really created and or passed down because they respond profoundly
to the moment and the needs of the moment and the needs of the people.
So when it comes to crafting a ritual rather than me, I. Trying to
make up something now that would be meaningful to, I don't know, 10,000
listeners or however many people are listening to this conversation.
Um, I would much rather speak to the capacity to make ritual rather than the
ritual itself, because it's the same thing as like cooking, you know, like.
My interest and going back to the email that I sent you about, you
know, I mean, the essence of the email I sent you was like, we need
a ritual renaissance in the culture.
We need to really become better practitioners of rituals so that we
can navigate these times that we're in and both personally and collectively.
The thing is, is that how do we n how do we become, um.
How do we participate in the ritual renaissance?
We have to learn how to craft our own rituals, not just the ones that are
passed down, although those are important, but some of them need to be reinvented.
As I told you from my Passover Seder story, like I wanted to reinvent
a old ritual object, but the thing is, when, when, why do we need to
learn how to craft our own rituals?
It's the same thing as cooking.
When we learn how to.
Cook, even scrambled eggs.
We can feed ourselves, we can nourish ourselves.
We're not dependent on other people to do it.
Same thing with ritual.
When, and when I say ritual, I mean making meaning, right?
So how do we make meaning with our personal lives or our collective lives?
We have to attempt to make something small at first, not fancy, not based
on other people's cultures or customs.
I. Something deeply important to us.
And how do we do that?
By exercising a capacity to be creative.
What lies at the heart of ritual is imagination, right?
We're in the realm of symbols.
We're in the realm of metaphors.
We're in the realm of things that are not utilitarian or rational,
but that are meaningful because we, 'cause they mean something to us.
So the question is like, what's little things that are meaningful to you?
Like for instance, that ribbon example, I'm, that leash
was deeply meaningful to me.
Throwing it away was like an assault on my love of my dog.
I was, I held that leash every day for 16 years, twice a day on dog walks.
And I knew I wanted to wear something that would be meaningful to me.
So I. Just thought, how can I reinvent the leash, right?
And so I cut it and I wore it, and it's very simple, but it's deeply meaningful.
But that might not be meaningful to like 99% of your listeners.
But the question is, well then what's meaningful to you?
Right?
And, and so.
There is a need to try things out and to imagine and to not get so stuck
on things being, you know, right or done according to blah, blah, blah.
But to me, speaking to you as an artist as well, like imagination has
a role to play in ritual and, but so does, um, the need to make it.
Meaningful to you.
Right.
So that's why I'm not prescribing something here.
I'm describing something, but I'm, but the be the better lane, that
I'm way more inspired by to pass on is imagination and creativity here.
I love that.
Thank you.
Yeah.
De I, um, you know what we didn't talk about, which I feel very remiss in not
discussing hardly at all, so we should do it before we end, is we have not talked
about nature, which is very present in both of our, both of our works.
Um, and I wanna just weave that in as we sort of tie this conversation
off is, um, and it's one of the places that I personally go.
To create space for myself just to be, is to step outside, outside of the
walls and the stuff and the demands.
Um, and so may let's have a little bit of a conversation about how we
might, um, bring our relationship to nature into this conversation of sort
of slowing down, reconnecting, holding ourselves in this transitional space.
Yeah, I mean, this is the preeminent relationship that
we should be practicing daily.
Um, especially those of us that either live in places with deep.
Nature disconnection, which is most of us, um, especially those of us that are,
where our ancestors have been ated from the places that they called home for
hundreds of or if not thousands of years.
Um, and especially if we're looking to find a way through,
um, these times and, um, and.
In that continue to cultivate a sense of peace and creativity and connection
and resourcefulness and resilience.
Um, this is the daily relationship.
And so, um, yeah, I'd say my work is like the number one thing that I am teaching
these days in my teacher trainings.
Um, I. Is first and foremost cultivating a sense of relationship with the place,
not from a place of certainty, but from a place of wonder and to the skills
that we need to use to navigate the times that we're in right now, and I've
named many throughout this conversation.
Those are the skills to practice in relationship with the living world.
So we get to exercise those skill sets outside and then we get to apply
them to our culture, our society, our communities, our personal
relationships, you know, and one of them.
And you know, I'll, I'll name two, which is the heart and
soul of my work in the world.
Mm-hmm.
Number one, the heart is wonder.
So what does it mean to be in a, a state of deep, profound curiosity and
re in relationship with the living world, and then apply that skill of
curiosity to your partner, to your parents, to your children, to your
boss, to your clients, et cetera.
What does it mean to be in a state of childlike wonder of awe, of
curiosity, of interest, of leaning in?
That's number one.
And that's the heart of my work.
The soul of my work is what does it mean to be in relationship
with impermanence, with change?
Nature is the preeminent teacher for us of being in a relationship with change.
Everything's moving, everything's changing all of the time.
I've had my fair shares of encounters in nature where I want things to go a very
different way, and it goes the complete opposite way than I prefer, and I have
to wrestle with my own relationship to, um, preference to, um, to longevity.
Um, to my resistance to change all of these things.
And so the soul of my work, 'cause all of my work is really
comes down to impermanence.
How do we relate to change?
And then I circle back to my first skill, which is wonder, right?
We, we have to practice being in a wondrous relationship with change and.
She, they what, however, gender you wanna call, the living world.
The living world is the playground to practice wonder and to be in a
wondrous relationship within permanence.
So get outside
Day, what incredible waypoints you've shared today.
Thank you.
This has been so rich.
I wonder if there's anything I didn't ask you about that you really
wanted to talk about or bring up?
Um, that's a great question.
I think, you know, I think in terms of my own personal, both gifts that and wound
that I am wrestling with these days, um.
I'm bringing this up because I wanna name it for myself, please.
Is, um, in the midst of it all, how and when do we rest?
And rest is a really important part of this work.
Um, it's really important part of, um, resilience and law and, um.
It's a really important part of, of like keeping our humanity.
Um, and it's something I struggle with because I'm so, um, impassioned
with purpose in my life and I have a lot of energy, but it's been
a real journey for me to let go.
And so, um, and, and rest, that's the heart of it, right?
Is like there's only, you know, there's an old like a thousand year old, um,
Jewish proverb, which is, um, it's not your job to finish the task, but
neither are you free to neglect it.
And I think that's a really important, you know, piece of wisdom
from a thousand years ago, which.
Lives at the center of this conversation and um, and the conversations I'm
having just with myself right now, which is like, what is our role?
Obviously we need to participate in these times, but knowing that our participation
is a very limited, um, engagement and that we can't finish it, but we should
not participate 'cause we can't finish it.
Mm-hmm.
Yeah.
Thank you for that.
I, I have been thinking a lot about
sort of one end of this space being.
Totally overwhelmed withdrawal.
Mm-hmm.
And the other end of the space being the always on activism.
Mm-hmm.
And what, what is this bridge in the middle of the two?
And, and rest is a piece of that, a huge piece.
And it's, it's real rest, nourishing rest.
Right.
That, that makes a piece of that bridge to me.
Yeah.
Nourishing rest and a willingness to surrender control.
Hmm.
Yeah.
And that also, speaking of, you know, that's kind of the conversation
I was having about I permanence with the living world is like.
You know, there's been so many times where I want things to go a certain way
and they don't, and I have to continue to l um, loosen my grip on things.
And rest is the ultimate.
I mean, it's the many, many practices, there are little deaths, you know, they're
the many practices of letting go of control and kind of allowing ourselves
to sink back into the greater void.
And so that we might wake up tomorrow and pursue again, our purpose or our
gifts or justice or whatever it is.
Um, but it is, um, it's, it's essential for our own, for staying connected
to our own humanity must include, um, the limitation of our reach.
You know, so rest is that.
It's like there's only so much I can do.
Yeah.
And I'm practicing this too.
It's, I, I'm speaking from the, from the, with a shovel in my
hand and I'm like down too.
Oh Day.
Thank you.
Thank you for your time and for engaging in this conversation.
It's so rich and such a pleasure.
Thank you.
Listeners, links will be in the show notes so you can learn more
about Day and his work, um, Day.
Thank you.
Yeah.
Thank you so much for having me again.