Why do I meditate? Why do I examine my life? To become calmer, happier, and less distracted. Oh yeah—and to achieve radical transformation.

We’re not always our best selves, but maybe by letting go of past mistakes we reduce future ones. Has Waking Up helped you outgrow unhelpful behaviors or habits? Has your mindfulness journey brought out a better version of yourself?

To pass the time as you pass through clouds, you’ve got options. Television or a movie? Pretzels or nuts? Sleep or stretch? Chit-chat or Nintendo? Or you could try nothing at all.

The stream is surrounded by tropical trees. The waterfall is gentle and clear. The air is filled with birdsong. I am very far from this nice place—meditating very close to a construction site.

I was ready to achieve perfect enlightenment and equanimity. Then I decided I didn’t want to move to a temple and renounce stuff I enjoy, like ice cream and cake. The goal of Work in Progress is to explore how Waking Up can help me have my cake and mindfully eat it, too.

For Amanda, family trips to a mountain creek are for hopping from rock to rock—not from worry to worry. For Ryan, people are miraculous, and anger is senseless. For me, your responses are much appreciated. Thank you!

During a recent stroll through a familiar neighborhood, I paid special attention to home ventilation. The experience was a breath of fresh air! Notice what I did there? If not, don’t worry. Noticing turns out to be an art, and Rob Walker makes it fun to learn.

Australia played Ireland in the Women’s World Cup. I wanted to attend, and I did. I wanted to see the Aussies win, and I did. I wanted to meditate with the many thousands in attendance, and I did. (Well, kind of.)  A question for you: What new app features would you like to see?

Am I the type of person who sees popular big-budget films just so I can talk about them later? Well, a member named Nora taught me to notice the tendency to identify as a certain type of person—so I refuse to answer that question!  Fine, I’ll answer it. In this episode.

My childhood house was for sale, but I couldn’t afford it, so I couldn’t re-live in it. My childhood is not for sale, but I can’t time travel, so I can’t re-live it. (The graphics are better in the present, anyway.) Today we discuss nostalgia, memories, and the "unfindability" of the past.

I had a lot of beer. Too many beers. The next day I spent a lot of hours in bed. Too many hours. I spent them listening to a lot of Reflections. No such thing as too many Reflections! Is it weird to binge Waking Up with a hangover?

Athletes can like flowers. Nuns can make jokes in sweatpants. Wiggling my toes might not count as intense exercise. A visualization about butter doesn't always need to involve baby monkeys!  That last claim’s tough to toast, I know. Verify it for yourself by following the link below—and get super relaxed and snoozy in the process.

What is enlightenment? Have the Waking Up teachers attained it? These are my questions, but in this episode, I lend them to Nate, Director of Content Strategy at Waking Up.

The internet can show me what happens when you pop a can of Coke on the ocean floor and how folks in Finland wash their clothes. I can choose to close my laptop and meditate. I mean, like, I can after just this one video, maybe. This week’s question: What are your unusual Waking Up use cases?

I listened intently to some songs on my music playlists. I hope you do the same! I read intently your feature-requests for Waking Up playlists. You hope our developers do the same!

Please quiet down. I’m trying to write a description here! Oh, not you, dear reader. I’m talking to the babbler inside my head. Sometimes he insists he needs my attention, when I’d rather focus on, well, writing this description—or on the very cool play I went to recently, and which I discuss in this episode.

Join me and my niece for milk, berries, and infinitely many rainbows.

For pet rodents, the running wheel is always near, often ignored, and keeps cycling around. I guess it’s a lot like what the breath is for me. That is, like the breath used to be for me. Now it’s quite a bit more—thanks to some new sessions from Adyashanti.

I had some pesto. Thousands helped make it. Thousands helped package it. Thousands more helped deliver it to my plate. Same goes for the rice and beans that I put the pesto on. And that was just lunch! Thanks to the gazillions who keep me fed, and thanks to Jan Chozen Bays for making me thankful.

This episoad— This episode is abowt— This episode is about starting over.

Here's a pop quizard. Can you ace it? What’s a garden reptile have in common with Wimbledon champion Carlos Alcaraz?  A) They’re both agile.  B) They’re both victorious.  C) They’re both expert beginners-again. D) All of the above. In today's installment, I serve up the correct answer. If it slithers away from you, well, just begin again the episode.

I told my calendar that soon I'll be very far away from my cozy, familiar bed. But I haven’t decided whether I’ll be on a vacation or a visit. Maybe an expedition? A journey? A pilgrimage, perhaps!

I mentioned I’d be traveling to Europe. I was planning to take the train, but everybody seems to think there’s no line from Australia to Ireland. Too bad. I was excited to try something new. I’ve never ridden a water rail, don’t quite understand the hover mechanics, and was kind of in-a-good-way nervous about it.

Thirty hours of non-stop walking made me very hungry and not very careful.

If I were a caveman, I’d try to win you over with a lewd cave painting. If I were the host of Work in Progress, I’d try to win you over with an episode about how being mindful about eating can decrease the amount of calories you consume, and increase your enjoyment of them. And that episode would be this one, in which Gitti wins me over with her own mindful eating experience.

If majestic sea giants are twirling before your eyes, listen to this later.

I’m putting my digital art portfolio up for auction, and I’m starting the bidding pretty high. After all, it took me a long time to learn how to do the art, a long time to learn to use the technology that I used to do the art, and then a long time to actually do the art. And all my time and effort was rewarded. My paintings are, like, way better than similarly-styled AI insta renderings!

This episode was fully produced in every possible way by a new AI tool called MoreCreativeThanYouGPT. Try listening to it with BetterListenerThanYouGPT, another new AI tool. SolveEveryConceivableProblemGPT also seems cool, but apparently it’s not out yet. Guess in the meantime I’ll have to use MyOwnSolutionsGP-ME, which, when mindfully prompted, can actually be pretty enjoyable.

In 2003, Blockbuster charged me $17.53 because I accidentally tangled the tape of my cassette of The Lion King. I should have refused to pay and instead invested the amount in DeepMind, which makes AlphaFold, technology that untangles proteins to create cures. If I had, I’d be richer than a king...of the jungle. I’m kidding: Lions aren’t even that rich.

At Dubai International Airport, humor flies high above language barriers, attentional focus flies high above ambient busy-ness, and designer handbag prices fly high above my budget.

Michael learned to let go of an incessant need to speak up and share opinions. Rodrigo learned that conversational silence can be un-awkwardly enjoyable. I learned that my personal brand depends less on how clever I sound in public than on, like, what kind of person I am. As always, thanks for writing in!

I like to achieve my goals, win soccer matches, and ace exams—but the thrill of success seems to vanish faster than it takes me to mindlessly slam my celebratory milkshake. So my new goal is to use mindfulness to help me relish the process of pursuing my goals.

Steph, a new mom, realizes her 7-month-old is pretty wise. Sam Harris, a former skier, realizes he might never ski again. Jonah Primo, a jetlagged traveler, realizes he has a lot to learn from Steph and Sam.

Spoiler alert: In this episode, I reveal some details about the novel Perfume, by Jean-Baptiste Grenouille. Spoiler alert: I also reveal some details from Sam’s lesson The Logic of Practice. Spoiler alert: There’s some spoiled cod on my meditation cushion. I’m using it for my spoiled-cod meditation. Spoiler alert. All those spoiler alerts are related.

I saw a rock and roll legend perform in a packed ancient Sicilian amphitheater, located on top of a mountain, under a full moon. It was an evening I hadn’t planned—and won’t forget. I’m rarely so spontaneous, which makes me wonder: How many similarly magical experiences have my social calendar and workout schedule deprived me of? Too many, I suspect.

Yesterday, I told you that I saw the lead singer of Led Zeppelin perform in Sicily. I lied. I actually saw Robert Plant perform in Sicily. Sure, Robert Plant was the lead singer of Led Zeppelin, but now he’s a different person. As I watched Plant be a new version of himself on stage, I realized that I, too, am not the same person I was even yesterday.

There’s a line for this episode. You’re VIP and don’t have to wait in it.

This show is called Work in Progress because I’m a work in progress. That means that I make a lot of mistakes, which means that I’ve gotten pretty good at apologizing. I’d like to think I’m also pretty good at forgiving. Sometimes—just sometimes—I can even forgive without first getting an apology.

Catania is a port city in Sicily where fishmongers beam joy, strangers greet one another like relatives, and everybody has a beloved friend named Antonio.  It’s also where I realize the novelty of it all is probably as misleading as it is exciting.

Everything is made of something, and whatever that something is, it’s made of something else, which in turn is—you guessed it!—made of something else. It’s an infinitely cool concept that I learned from Alan Watts—and from the famous why-phase school of philosophers, AKA super curious young children.

I’m in a skeptical mood. I’ve got some assumptions to challenge! Might cats prefer soda to milk? Might December be the hottest month of the year?  Might a fair price for iced coffee be about the price of ice and the price of coffee combined?

Drew wrote in about fresh baked goods, his sweet-toothed daughter, and maybe “the most valuable lesson” he’s ever learned. The story is so delicious that it gets its own episode.

All aboard the Your Thoughts Express. Next stop? Who knows! Just get on and see where you end up. Maybe you’ll like the destination, but you probably won’t.  Not ideal? Then take the WIP Express instead. Next stop? Joseph Goldstein teaches us how to improve the Your Thoughts Express.

“From the repetition of thoughts and emotions, it becomes easier to have that same pattern of thoughts and emotions arise again.” —Joseph Goldstein  “From the repetition of espressos and Red Bulls, it becomes easier then to have that same pattern of caffeine dependance arise again.” —Jonah Primo

I use media blockers to help me manage my addiction to YouTube. I use Michael Easter’s new series to help me manage my repulsion to boredom. I use mindfulness to help me realize when my thoughts wander during meditation. I use Michael Easter’s new series to help me realize that wandering thoughts have an upside.

Digital media is getting faster. Videos start faster. The dialog is faster. The subtitles are faster. The comedic timing is faster. And if you want, you can make the playback speed faster.  I think all this is making me a worse croissant customer. These days I seem to want my pastry served faster. Fortuntanty, mindfulness helps me slow down by catching impatient thoughts…faster.

It was a very hot day, and the secluded Sicilian beach with shaded grottos and crystal-clear water would have been a lovely place to be stranded.  I decided to get stranded somewhere else: on a busy road with no shade, no tire pressure, no spare, no tools, and no Italian.

I don’t mind most call-waiting songs. There’s one, however, that I mind quite a bit. How much? It literally gives me nightmares.  The song itself is actually very good. It’s just got some very not good associations.  Separating the music from my conditioned response to it isn’t always easy, but, with Joseph Goldstein’s help, it’s getting easier.

Imaginary balls bounce around my skull. Dan bounces on his trampoline.  Unnoticed thoughts bounce us around our lives.  A promotional itinerary bounces me and my fellow sleepless discount travelers from international airport to international airport.

Tony The Taxi Driver guided us through castle ruins with sun-setting panoramic views. Guy At The Sports Bar proved not only an insightful and like-minded soccer and rugby fan, but a very mindful one, too.  Rob Walker helped me turn fuzzy recollections into vivid and meaningful ones.

In this episode, I offer a short guided experiment. Give it a try. You might find, as I did, that imaginary bright light can illuminate some actual insights about the nature of thought.

Do mountaintops touch clouds, or do clouds touch mountaintops? Are patterns in the night sky made by the stars, or do they appear in the empty space between the stars? Is Lisbon the beautiful but normal city I beheld walking up my hilltop apartment’s staircase, or is it the whimsically fairytale city I beheld walking down it? The answer is yes.

Sometimes the news is good. Sometimes it’s bad. Sometimes it's devastating.  Here are some courses that can help: Confronting Injustice Mindful CBT

In this episode of The Twilight Zone, Jonah and his friends journey through the labyrinthine streets of an ancient island. What begins as an evening stroll morphs into a midnight odyssey with eerie voices, unsettling murals—and a cute little cat. Has the gang stumbled into another world? Tune in to find out.

At a recent wedding, my partner Issy and I hit it off with a Hungarian couple. We met. We joked. We laughed. We philosophized. We danced. We hugged. We parted.  It was an evening of best-friendship—minus the best friends.

Am I the host of Work in Progress? Only when I’m hosting Work in Progress.  Am I a musician? Only when I’m making music. Am I an almost-famous actor? Only when I’m trying to impress strangers.  Am I a fan of Jane Hirshfield? Yes.

A friendly game of poker taught me to part with my chips.  More importantly, it taught me to part with my effort to control certain situations. Sometimes the most rewarding way to play your cards is to just let them go, allowing the game and its players to be as they will.

I may march to the beat of my own drum, but I don’t march alone.

In today’s episo— Issy, turn down the music. I’m doing important Work in Progress stuff here.  In today’s episo— Issy, the food is here. Will you get the door? I’m busy!  Ahem. In today’s episo— Issy, remind me to tell you the joke I heard today. It’s a good one! In today’s episode, I remember that music, food, and good jokes bring me joy. I’ll finish this Work in Progress stuff later.

I don’t agree with pirates, but I get them. They like treasure, so they pillage.  I don’t agree with earthquakes, but I get them. Tectonic plates slip and slide, so the earth gets shaky. But some stuff I just don’t get. And when the stuff I don’t get gets me down, I get my ears on David Whyte.

I was feeling blue.  The world was looking gray. The big-city lights helped me brighten my mood. A small-time band helped me shake off the shade. This episode’s about re-discovering the colors of life (and possibly first-time discovering the next Coldplay).

Here’s a thought about gratitude: It’s a remedy for sadness. Here’s a heads-up: You may want to adjust your volume for this episode.

Imagine all the people, livin' mindfully You may say I'm a dreamer For thinking level-headed calm Can bring us peace and justice And the world will be as one

Diane Hamilton considers how channeling negative emotion can help, for purposes of personal growth. Melissa considers joining a chess club, for purposes of personal growth. I consider switching up my long-standing breakfast routine, for purposes of personal growth.

Roland Griffiths was a revered scientist and a committed meditator. He was a mentor to a generation of researchers and a leader with groundbreaking initiative. He was an inspiration, and his life’s work will continue to inspire us—and likely millions more.

An Australian’s guide to celebrating in America: “Surrender” is a scary word. Instead, gently release all your control. “Giving up” is a disempowering experience. Rather, gracefully accept the situation. “Puking” is an unpleasant and smelly bodily process. Alternatively, decisively un-digest all the steak and beer you’ve been forced—I mean "encouraged"—to consume.

Accepting what you can’t control doesn’t mean embracing what you don’t understand. Exploring a practice doesn’t mean following a movement. Valuing a teaching doesn't mean worshiping the human being who taught it. Listening to WIP doesn’t mean clicking the link in the description (but I recommend it).

Had Sam Harris not taken psychedelics, he may not have pursued meditation. Had he not pursued meditation, he’d never have created Waking Up. Had he never created Waking Up, Work in Progress wouldn’t exist. If Work in Progress didn’t exist, I wouldn’t have this opportunity to share Jim’s encouraging story about psychedelics-assisted therapy.

If a scary monster’s at the pub, should I pet its back or rub its belly?

During a bout of insomnia, I want to go to sleep but can’t, because my mind’s racing. When I’m jet lagged, I want to run a marathon but can’t, because marathons are, like, super long. In both cases, it is dark and I’m awake. For such occasions, I invented a lights-off, eyes-open meditation. I call it “Mindfulness Fun with Miscellaneous Terrestrial Machines.”

Aussies don’t see eye-to-eye on everything, but most agree that Tim Tams, our national biscuit, are both scrumptious and properly munched in moderation. I, Jonah Primo, regular mindfulness meditator, agree. I, Jonah Primo, woefully out of practice mindfulness meditator, have a stomach ache, a guilty conscience, and a table full of Tim Tam crumbs.

Meditation fell out of my routine, and my baseline serenity took a hit. Fortunately, the Dailies are helping me take care of unhelpful thoughts. A big branch fell out of Debbie’s tree, and her new car almost took a hit. Fortunately, a friendly arborist helped her take care of unhelpful wood.

The country is Mexico. The sun is bright. The beach is empty. There, at sea, is Florian, our helpless hero, alone, caught in a riptide, displaying an impressive amount of serenity as he drifts farther from shore—and closer to the great deep blue unknown. What happens next? You’ll have to buy a ticket. Or I guess you could just listen to this episode.

When your curious mind wanders to a distant topic while meditating, that's okay. Remember: Adyashanti says that your attitude is the important thing. When your curious child wanders to a distant isle while shopping, that's okay. Remember: Zana says that just having had your child agree to come along is the important thing.

I didn’t know Charlie very well. However, I knew him well enough to know that he had friends, made jokes, formed plans—that he was a human being, just like me.  I regret not having taken the time to get to know him better, and I hope this feeling inspires me to act with more presence, curiosity, and care around everyone I encounter.

The news called it an internet outage. I called it a forced silent retreat. Confirm my appointment? Service unavailable. Listen to a podcast? Unable to initialize. Message Issy about my day? Application not responding. Check out a new album on Spotify? Failure to load. Rediscover some of life’s simple pleasures? Success!

Malcolm, a Waking Up user, went to Mexico, got caught in a riptide, surrendered to it, felt a wash of serenity—and then was saved by two surfers. I want to join the serenity club, but I don’t have Mexico plans, so James Low is helping me float with the tide right where I am.

Jeff and his wife abruptly lost Ernie, their beloved brindle-pit mix. Jeff’s grief, however, gave way to surprising calm, which gave way to surprising feelings of guilt, which gave way to surprising feats of mindfulness, i.e. noticing thoughts as thoughts.

If you take your love tough, your bullshit absent, and your words un-minced—then take your theory lessons from James Low.  He’s one of my favorite teachers in the app because he uses real-life examples and poetic phrases, while still, somehow, making it plain: You are not in control.

I'm a serial loser of valuables: watches, phones, polarized sunglasses. So I swore off fancy stuff—until I caved and bought an iPad.  Then, you betcha, lost it too.  Now I’m in a loop of shame and frustration. And indecision: Is it really gone? Do I buy another? Will I lose it? How do I not lose it?

The guy on my block fixes up his old car, all weekend, every weekend. My friend's dad collects clutter and transforms it into heaps of fishing bait he’ll probably never use. Chris, a fellow Waking Up user, tears his waders but stitches up his morning with mindfulness and perspective. You wonder what waders are, so you listen to this episode to find out.

Jayasara says: “First find peace within, and you will see this inner peace reflected everywhere else.”  The world is not as peaceful as it could be or as it should be. The world is not as peaceful as it will be—thanks to all of you who are, little by little, becoming more mindful, and as a result, little by little, reflecting mindfulness everywhere else.

My friend and I went to lunch. He was sick. I was hungry. He didn’t want to spit on my untouched meal, but he did anyway. I didn’t want to eat it, but I did anyway. Sometimes you’ve got to pretend everything's fine to realize that it actually is.

Florian, Millika, Cindy, and Zach—thanks for the very good advice. Mom—thanks for the spare iPad.

Some of us spent our 21st year of life stressing out over exams and sports. Amanda Knox, and too many others, didn't have that privilege.

In this episode, I recognize the story I've been telling myself about fluffy self-care-y sounding advice—and then I replace it with a story where I understand that if the advice in question helped a 20-year-old get through wrongful imprisonment in an Italian jail, “fluffy” is probably the wrong adjective.

Sometimes when I feel like meditating, my mind feels like throwing a fit instead. In these all-too-frequent situations, here’s what I do: 1. Look for blue objects. 2. Multiply numbers in my head. 3. Take 10 breaths. 4. Explore the sensory experience of what I’m feeling. 5. Give credit to Waking Up teachers for helping me not need to do the above things as often as I used to.

For the last year, Pablo’s been living in rural Spain, tending to his garden, his animals, and his mindfulness practice. A recent trip to the city, though, gave him the opportunity to tend to his love for jiu-jitsu—and to the feelings of his sparring partner.  Turns out the line between toughness and sensitivity is as illusory as the self.

So far WIP has been an every-weekday show. That’s made many members feel like it’s tough to keep up. So, starting next week, we’re easing back to two episodes weekly. Let’s see what happens!

It’s one thing to want to live a certain lifestyle.  It’s another thing to be envious of the life of a specific person.  It’s yet another thing to have that specific person respond to your envy directly—by making you realize that the life you actually want is the one you’re living.

True: I can improve my life and make progress. Also true: My circumstance in this very instant simply is as it is. Also-also true: With acceptance and presence, my circumstance in this very instant can be the basis for profound freedom.

It’s not easy for me to have loving and kind thoughts for people I don’t like—but I’m getting better at it, thanks to philosophical determinism and metta meditation.

People who do very bad things may have chosen to do those things, but did they choose to choose to do them? And are these people capable of experiencing very good things, like love, kindness, and compassion?

May we move past arguments swiftly and always be willing to begin again. May we be kind in the kitchen. May we abandon our preconceptions of each other and of ourselves and use that to be open to new opportunities while forgiving past vendettas. May Australia win the Boxing Day Test match.

Robin inspires me to see everyone as important characters in the movie of humanity. Tim inspires me to sprinkle small, impromptu metta moments throughout the day. I (try to) inspire everyone to join my new movement: Marginal Gratitude.

My gift to you this holiday season is this super-duper Christmas-New Year’s special. Enjoy—and may you be merry!

If life gives you hail, use it to chill your Chardonnay.  If life gives you lighting, use it to supercharge your tennis match.  If life gives you torrential rain, use it to refract traffic light into mesmerizing streaks of color.  If 2024 gives you strange weather, use it to be more mindful.

Knowledge is power, but there’s lots of knowledge I don’t have: solutions to global conflicts, effects of emerging technologies, outcomes of elections, the weather next week.  Mindfulness is also power, and there’s lots I can be mindful of: aboriginal rock carvings, scurrying lizards, sparkling surf, the weather right now.

Ciara made the most of her holiday Norovirus experience—with some help from William Irvine. It’s never a good time to get sick. It’s always a good time to be grateful.

My mind evolved to think it knows me much better than it actually does, so maybe I should stop taking what it says so seriously.

It’s January, which means I’m back to the hustle and bustle of real life, which means I have more to accomplish than time to accomplish it—which means I’m going to need to implement a bunch of stress-management techniques.

Last week I spoke about having a lot to do. Sometimes, though, the wisest thing to do is just to be less stressed out. For these all-too-frequent cases, Seth Gillihan and Michael Easter have some very wise advice.

Lena de-dresses by being proactive. George de-stresses via gamification.  Dave de-stresses through box breathing. Stephen de-stressed with long hugs. Thanks for writing in!

Jonah Primo’s stages of wedding planning: Stage 1: Underestimate the complexity of the task.  Stage 2: Get really stressed out and irrationally emotional. Stage 3: Decide the stress just isn’t worth it. Simplify everything. Stage 4: Remember what’s important—having fun with those you love. Stage 5: Practice your dance moves.

The Waking Up search function has become a much more powerful tool—but maybe not quite as powerful as metta meditations, which are evergreen, dynamic, and full of possibility.

Tune in to WIP on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. As of next Monday, we’re moving to three episodes per week. Tune in whenever you want to your favorite Moments. As of a while ago, you can save (and even rename) those that really change your perspective. Tune in to this episode now to hear about some of my own favorite Moments.

I’ve got lots to learn, so concise, no-nonsense, efficiently-transmitted lessons are useful. Know what else is useful? Laughing your butt off.

I’m not Justin Bieber, but if I were, I wouldn’t be able to have a burger at my local chicken shop, wearing way-too-baggy pants, not wearing shoes, without police escorts, not having to worry about a mob of adolescent strangers watching me spill my ketchup. Being able to spill your ketchup discreetly is a privilege that’s very easy to take for granted.

Robert Waldinger helped me realize that my brain tends to look for what's negative—but that I don’t have to. I'm alive, which means that even my daily grievances are opportunities for awe and gratitude.

If you ever need a reason to keep on going, just remember that dancing exists—and it didn't have to.

Maybe your mood is good. It’s a great time to be mindful. Maybe your mood is not good. It’s a great time to be mindful. More likely, your mood is in flux, quietly shifting without you noticing. It’s a great time to be mindful.

Joel’s story is about his brave niece, a busy ER waiting room, and a small baby we hope is still with us.

Uncompromising dedication to victory is useful in the Super Bowl, the Tour de France, and topping the leaderboard at Zone 3 Laser Tag. Uncompromising dedication to being present and having fun is useful for weekend games of frisbee tennis, enjoying your friends' birthday parties, and pretty much everything else in life.

Why did I start meditating? Was it because a friend recommended it? Was I intrigued by Buddhism? Was I looking for something to replace my power pose regimen with? Or was it because the cold-hard fact-based number-crunched carefully-conducted research said that meditation was good for me? Probably that last one.

In this episode I use phrases like “sensory cortex,” “mode network,” and “confounding variables.” I also quote Jonas Kaplan, who actually knows what those phrases mean—and why they should matter to meditators like me.

Turn jitters from anxiety into jitters from excitement. Turn things you take for granted into things you take down in your gratitude journal. Turn your kindness toward others into kindness toward your emotions.

Shinzen Young’s history is eclectic and multidisciplinary. His system of meditation is quantifiable and systematic. His conversation with Sam is encouraging and useful.

I didn’t want a whole lot for my wedding. I wanted meat-free pizza. Did I get it? No. I wanted serene weather. Did I get it? No. I wanted a fairytale veil-lifting moment with my bride. Did I get it? No. I wanted the best night of my life. Did I get it? Yes.

My wedding party and I aren’t the only ones who think dancing is way more than a weekend pastime. Janet shares a joyful memory of watching Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dance on screen. Joe shares a sad story about his late brother, whose dancing was irresistibly unencumbered. Janet and Joe, thanks for writing in.

Michael Easter says that doing new things enhances awareness.  My new wife and I snowboarded down new slopes, at new high speeds, attempting new half-pipe tricks, pulsing with new stores of adrenaline—and achieving new states of consciousness.  Still, I think meditation might be a more reliable (and much safer) path to awakening.

I like to get out and about, to see new things, to venture off, to be in new places. I like to travel—but what kind of traveler am I? That may depend on how many pictures I take, why I take them—and how much I learn from what those pictures are of.

I immersed myself in a Japanese geothermal bath. It made me hyper-aware of myself—and led to ugly feelings of alienation. Pico Iyer immersed himself in a Japanese art exhibit. It made him hyper-aware of his surroundings—and led to beautiful sentences of prose.

I am not always 100% mindful when I meditate—but I am 100% in existence. This is worth taking time to appreciate, Joan Tollifson says. Joan Tollifson is worth taking time to appreciate, I say.

Human perception is one big demonstration of our only-sometimes-useful tendency to mistake actual things for ideas of things. My sense of self is one such mistaken idea.

There are good stories and bad stories. Good stories enlighten us and entertain us. Bad stories do the opposite: They fool us and make us miserable.  Don’t tell yourself bad stories.  Do listen to Joan Tollifson.

I met two Waking Up members in Japan: a South African who brews almond liqueurs in Boston and a Dutch skydiving videographer.  Robert Waldinger and Arthur Brooks say social connections like these are important. Creating them, though, isn’t always easy. Another Waking Up member, Scott, has a simple technique that can help.

A Jayasāra visualization made me feel a bit silly. It also made me feel less worried and better rested.

I’m neither a wistful poet nor a tortured artist, but I’ve recently become a bit less cynical—and better able to appreciate the marvelous in the mundane.  Thanks, Joan Tollifson.

Do these quotes express spiritual insights—or deviant thoughts?

Today we look at your most requested feature, and some of the playlisting possibilities.

Yesterday I was sitting at my desk and typing. That’s it. Was I wearing a helmet and knee pads? No. Should I have been? Apparently. Is the world unpredictable? Extremely.

I threw out my back. I threw my body into bed. I threw the ensuing hours into a Henry Shukman binge. He taught me to throw my mind into greater truths and my heart into the pain.

Would I rather watch TV alone on the toilet or create glorious memories with cherished company? It’s a tough question. Should I watch TV alone in a bathroom or create glorious memories with cherished company? It’s a rhetorical question.

How many steps does it take to get to a state of awakening? For me, it’s 12,000 and counting.

I introduce a new WIP Playlist. I introduce a new WIP format. I introduce a not-new WIP guest: Nate, who, as Waking Up’s Director of Content, introduces us to lots of new teachers and lessons.

Nate and I discuss the difference between formal and informal practice—and why we need both.

Knowing when to attack and when to step back is key to playing soccer. It’s also key to being reinstated in your soccer league so you can keep playing soccer.

I could have been a tennis star. I could have been a math prodigy. I could have made a fortune. I could have saved the world. I am grateful that I no longer suffer when I think about all this.

Kiran's Setiya simple words may express my favorite idea in the app: “Embrace your losses as fair payment for the surplus of being alive.” I’m not the pianist I know I could have been. That’s fair payment for all the spectacular things I've done instead.

We can dwell on missed opportunities. It won’t bring knowledge of where we’d actually be had things gone differently. It will bring painful feelings of regret. We can focus on what currently is. It will bring relief from regret. It will help us appreciate new opportunities.

It’s important to prioritize sleep. It’s important to prioritize exercise. It’s important to prioritize relaxation. It’s important to prioritize social activity.  It’s important to prioritize alone time. It's impossible to prioritize it all.

Lots can keep me up at night: Too much coffee. Too late a workout. Too bright a room. Too much noise. Insomnia is a fundamentally different problem—and it calls for a fundamentally different solution.

Metta is the Pali word for “loving-kindness.”  It’s also the Jonah Primo word for “Stop focusing on my own problems for a friggin’ minute and wish others well—and then enjoy the happy side-effect of finally getting to sleep."

I wasn’t mindful of the time, and I missed my train, which I usually catch.  I took the opportunity to be mindful of the station, and I caught its quirky charm, which I usually miss.

If I never write my novel, I can be sure it won’t suck. If I don’t form any fitness goals, I can’t fail to meet them. If I don’t make difficult decisions, I can’t regret having made the wrong ones.

The paradox of choice is the idea that the more options we have, the harder it is for us to make a decision. For example, there’s lots of content on Waking Up. What should you listen to? It's a tough choice. How about an Oliver Burkeman lesson on making tough choices?

Once in a while, there’s some mysterious phrase in a lesson—and for some mysterious reason in my head, it just sticks with me. Then later, something unexpected makes everything clear. Kelly Boys provided one such phrase.  A very bad movie provided one such moment of unexpected clarity.

I’d been drinking too much coffee. I’d been watching too much news. I’d been forming too many opinions. I’d been reaching for my phone too often. It was a chaotic spiral of bad habits, and I needed an intervention. Jayasāra provided it.

Curb Your Enthusiasm has ended, which means that my relationship with its characters has too. They weren’t real, but my mixed-up feelings of loss and confusion are—and they feel pretty, pretty, pretty weird.

Nate and I discuss Metta. How do you define it? Why is it important? How do you practice it? What are the main challenges in doing so? How do you overcome them?

For a long time, I’ve believed that nobody should suffer. It’s been part of my moral philosophy, and I arrived at it intellectually.  Now I feel—fully and deeply—that nobody should suffer. It’s part of my worldview, and I arrived at it through metta practice.

Last week I spoke about my toxic spiral into toxic social-media-comment sections.  Earlier this week, I spoke about how metta helped me realize that, ultimately, we’re all family.  Today, I speak about how this realization has made my social media spirals much less toxic and much more compassionate.

Peak mindfulness can come suddenly, unexpectedly, and in freefall.

Last episode, I spoke about the sense of freedom that can come when your car is in freefall.  A different sense of freedom can come when your life is in freefall.  When you’re totally out of control, nothing can control you—and that feels like liberation.  It isn’t.

Sometimes I meditate to get into a different state of mind—to find calm or perspective. Adyashanti calls this the ultimate sleight of hand: “I'm going to be right here, and now, and it damn well better not look like it does right now when I get here." Turns out that actually being present means not trying to escape, well, what’s present.

I had a lot of insights at 2 AM. I got up to record them. I got not a lot of sleep that night.  I felt a lot of tiredness the next day. Jayasāra helped me turn that tiredness into a lot of insights.

It’s easy to have fun in fun situations.  It takes mindfulness to have fun in very unfun situations. It takes poetry to turn memories of very unfun situations into fun WIP episodes.

Hugh was in a serious car accident that lasted only seconds. But to Hugh those brief moments expanded to long enough for him to process and accept what he thought was inevitable. This seems like a common theme in near-death experiences. When we suspect a moment is our final one, it becomes as long as we need it to be.

I had expected an evening filled with pre-planned enjoyable activities. Those activities were derailed by unexpected chores and errands. Those chores and errands made me feel unexpectedly…content.

Jayasāra helped me realize that I'm not at war with my mind. I'm more like a friend out to coffee with it, politely suggesting healthy lifestyle changes—but respecting its boundaries and not being too pushy or preachy.

It’s been a while since I’ve unplugged for this long. I feel both more ignorant and more wise. More anxious and more calm. More dispassionate and more volatile. More available and more busy. More alone with my thoughts and more mindful of them. It’s been a mixed bag.

In a Moment, Sam says: “We mistake our mere attitudes for knowledge about the way the world is.” Here’s how I think about it: We get raw footage from life, and we believe our minds are using it to produce truth-seeking Ken Burns-style documentaries. All too often, though, we end up with the Bachelorette, because it’s flashier and easier to watch.

Maria shares a powerful story. She was “simply existing,” and it was “incredibly peaceful"—a “360-degree experience” characterized by acceptance.  She was not meditating. She was not tripping. She was almost dying.

Aaron shares his thoughts on a story about the end of one’s journey in life. Dave shares his answer to the question of how to begin one’s journey on the Waking Up app.

Janet congratulates me on my ongoing social media fast, i.e. avoiding the digital-world algorithms that bait and polarize us. I congratulate you on possibly accepting my invitation, i.e. joining me in the real-world outdoors to meditate and share insights.

In a recent 10K race, it was me vs. me. Bad news: I lost. Good news: I won. Bad thought: “I’m upset because I’m not as fast as I was at my fastest.” —Jonah Primo Good thought: “Take what you get without picking and choosing, judging and comparing.” —Stephan Bodian

My ordinary running route includes gorgeous vistas and architectural marvels; it draws faraway visitors and proposing lovebirds. My ordinary running route isn't so ordinary.

It was just me, a ginormous tree, and Mark Coleman’s voice.  Oh yeah, and all of you, too. Thanks for participating in the book club!

Nate’s just back from a Tuscan biking tour. We discuss the region’s picturesque landscapes, local vino, physical exertion, and the many benefits of spending time outdoors.

I noticed a new aspect of an ad I've seen a thousand times, and I enjoyed it. Tim, a Waking Up member, wrote in about seeing a flock of geese feeding nearby—and how he enjoyed it. I’ll be speaking with Jayasara later, and I expect to enjoy it.

A recent conversation in the app features two people I’ve always admired but never thought would meet each other. Amazing! My recent experience in a park features two people in the same, well, person. Amazing!

I went to the park to meditate. I expected to find an oasis of quiet. Instead, I found an oasis of barking, honking, breaking, creaking, screeching, crying, thumping, pinging, scraping, and other sensory delights.

Cormac tuned into movement—of water, light, and wind. Tim noticed aliveness—in a seaside soundscape, scraggly bushes, and small insects.  Carl gained perspective—seeing himself as a small part of a large system, feeling less like a separate self, and perceiving the world more directly. As always, thanks for writing in!

Jayasāra and I discuss her journey into mindfulness and monastic life, her spiritual influences, her academic pursuits, the day-to-day life of a nun, booze, love, lust, and lots more.

For this session, I went into nature, walked, and concentrated on sensory awareness. By “nature,” I mean “a manicured soccer pitch illuminated by artificial light.” By “walked,” I mean “let my mind wander aimlessly.”

A few weeks ago, I invited you to share about your relationship to your hometown. Robin’s town, Christchurch, New Zealand, experienced thousands of earthquakes within only two years.  As a result, Christchurch changed a lot. Is it the same place? As a result, Robin changed a lot. Is she the same person?

When I wake up feeling right, good, well, happy, confident, just plain peachy, it’s easy for me to just sail through the day without thinking too much about why. When I wake up feeling the opposite of all those nice things, it’s easy for me to spiral into full-blown panic. Well, it was. Now I can be mindful of, equanimous with, and maybe even grateful for my experience. That is, sometimes I can.

I went to a community garden to meander with curiosity—and meander I did. But I didn't only meander. I wandered, too. I meandered and wandered.  Did I also bimble? You better believe I bimbled! I meandered, wandered, and bimbled in a community garden, and life will never be the same.

Casey reflects on her experience sitting with Mark Coleman in person at Spirit Rock in California.  Enrique reflects on his mysterious knack for tending to succulents. I reflect on my gratitude for your reflections. Keep them coming to wip@wakingup.com.

When I use social media, I imagine that my cheese grater can grate a tunnel to a magical realm at the Earth's core, where everybody gets along and agrees. When I don’t use social media, I buy orange juice in the real, multidimensional world, where I encounter real, multidimensional people.

Happy 1st birthday to the show! It’s changed so much. So have I. Have I changed for the better? I'm not sure.  Guess I'm still a work in progress.

For “Lying on the Earth,” I lay on the earth. I did not do the firefly yoga pose on the earth. I kept my eyes open. I did not do the firefly yoga pose with my eyes open. I experienced my garden from a different perspective. I did not experience the firefly yoga pose in my garden from any perspective.

I ran through the neighborhood in which I grew up. I figuratively dove into a wave of nostalgia. It felt like I actually jumped through a portal into my childhood. I know that only the present moment exists, but this trip down memory lane felt pretty real—and was totally welcome.

When I parked my beloved Subaru, it had a small number of side mirrors. When I returned, it had an even smaller number of them. That means I will have to spend a much larger number of dollars on repairs, and hours commuting by public transport until they're done. This makes a large impact on my week—but a very small one on my life.

This week’s Practice Club session is called “Standing with Trees.” It’s not called “Standing with Trees with My Buddy Alex, Who Had Never-Ever Meditated Before, like Not Even Once.” Hey, Mark never said you couldn't bring a friend.

What do you call it when near-twenty complete strangers make time to meet each other in a public park to hug trees with their eyes closed, overcoming all manner of logistical, social, and psychological barriers in the process, all to share in the journey of awakening? I call it art.

Almost every morning, a shaft of sunlight beams through my bedroom window. Almost every morning, it illuminates a spectacular display of glimmering dust particles. Almost every morning, I don’t notice any of this. This morning, I felt like it was all I needed out of life.

Tom Lutz likes to gamble on places that have the allure of mystery, "the promise of something unknown." On a recent audiobook stroll, I saw a series of little white arrows, with no explanation, on tree stumps and wooden poles, that seemed to point to such a place. So I followed them—and my ordinary book walk thereby became an adventurous bush walk.

I was tired. I was upset. I was sick. So I sat alone in the pouring rain. It was just what I needed.  Thanks, Mark Coleman.

I registered for a big race in Sydney many months in advance, but I waited until the last hour of the last day to pick up my bib. So did 3,000 other procrastinating Aussie runners, the vast majority of whom handled the very long line much better than I did.

Thanks, Crystal, for pointing out that I skipped the seventh session in our practice club lineup. Thanks, Eleanor, for not skipping that session, and for sharing your experience.  Thanks, sulfur crested cockatoo, for providing impossible-not-to-notice nature sounds for Eleanor to notice in nature.

Joan and I discuss her early “spiritual bent,” her political activism, addiction, compulsion, mindfulness, free will, and the interplay between ambition and acceptance.

It takes a little effort to bring your breakfast to the garden. It takes a little effort to get out of the city. It takes a little effort to find new trails. It takes a little effort to push through the bramble. It’s worth it.

When it's overcast, I tend towards wistful philosophizing and melancholy contemplation. When it’s sunny, I tend towards cheerful skipping and joyful presence. Today the sky was filled with big gray clouds, so this episode contains some deep thoughts and zero skipping.

Joseph Goldstein says that abandoning what isn’t yours leads to “your welfare and happiness.” So I’m taking stock of what’s mine. This first delicate silvery thread of gray hair growing out of me? This is mine. Life as a 20-something-year-old with no silvery threads of gray hair growing out of me? This is no longer mine.

Joseph Goldstein mentions a certain monk who, whenever he did something unmindfully, would go back and do it again. I’m trying out the lifestyle, and I’ve noticed that the fear of having to repeat something can itself be enough to make me do it mindfully the first time.

I went to a quiet park in a quiet part of my neighborhood at a quiet time of day, and I took a quiet seat and tried to focus on a quiet block of concrete. But I had to take a break from the meditation because my mind was too…not quiet. I entered stillness, but I brought my own chaos with me.

According to my new friend from the pub, we should admire artists who've worked hard for their success, because, unlike children of celebrities, they’re self-made. According to Sam Harris, no one is self-made, not even hard workers.  According to me, it’s good to listen to others talk about what it means to be self-made, how we should feel about it, and other ideas. Conversation is wonderful!

When I tell people we don’t have free will, they either roll their eyes and go play darts, or they ask "Then why bother doing anything at all?" For starters, it’s worth bothering to distinguish determinism from fatalism, because it helps explain why we should—and inevitably do—bother to do lots of other stuff, like play darts.

You knew the planet is constantly spinning at breakneck speeds. But did you know we don’t feel it because everything's moving with us and there's no acceleration? You knew the knee bone's connected to the thigh bone, and the thigh bone's connected to the hip bone—and all of that is under your skin. But did you know, as Mark puts it, “The skin is an intimate bridge to the life around you.”

Large amounts of caffeine often agitate the body. Deliberate focus often calms the mind. Large amounts of caffeine consumed with deliberate focus today had a spectacular effect on me.

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy is popular, well-studied, proven to help, and there are free resources and exercises online.  You can't say it's too woo-woo or hippie-dippie. You can't say it's too spiritual or religious. You can't say it's too expensive or time-consuming. If you are going through a difficulty—any difficulty—you might consider trying it.

I did this session with my eyes open, gazing at a tree. Why? Because trees are wonderful. They recycle air, beautify public spaces, host birds and squirrels. And they don’t take credit for any of it! They create oxygen without thinking “I'm creating oxygen.” They just exist—not in nature, but as a part of it.

The sun is setting on the show, over 200 episodes after it began.

Mark and I discuss his Waking Up courses, his youth, punk rock, the importance of self-compassion, digital technology and attention, the ethics of killing mosquitoes, and much more—yes, including nature.

I wanted to make the Practice Club finale a grand one, so I drove out to a beautiful national park, walked through a rainforest, ascended a coastal path, and climbed to the highest point of a nearby rock.  It was at this perfect place that things fell apart. It was at this perfect place that Metta brought them back together.

Work in Progress has been about making progress, but progress is a difficult beast to understand.

Years ago, I performed a glorious display of soccer athleticism.  That version of me was very fast, expected many more years of athletic glory, and no longer exists. The current version of me is glad to still love soccer, knows better than to expect many more years of anything, and tries not to take existence itself for granted.

Sam and I discuss his youth, his early drug experiences, structured meditation practice, resilience, social media, apologizing, fame, and more.

After 211 episodes of Work in Progress, I feel like I’ve made some...progress. For instance, I have a greater understanding of the illusion of the self, a softer ego, and much more gratitude.