Happy New Year. I wasn’t sad to say goodbye to 2025, but I’d say 2026 isn’t starting off with any fewer challenges.

Challenges or no challenges, though, we can set our personal tone. How about 2026 for a tone of kindness? What if we commit to talk, write, and post, one-on-one or to our ten million followers (or 460, in my case), without causing harm, or lying, or being unkind?

I don’t know what if – what happens if we do that. But let’s try it. It won’t be too hard because probably most of us are being kind already. For those who are, and also for those who aren’t, may you be safe in 2026. May 2026 be a year of kindness and safety and ease for all.

Hopefully there will be small moments of peace as we enter the winter solstice in the global north, at the end of a challenging year. It will be dark…but there’s darkness everywhere. And there’s also light.

Which is the invitation of mindfulness: to be that light. The question is, how? How to be the light, for others and for ourselves?

In the stillness of the solstice - in the silence of the heart - we have the answer. Trust yours. Take things gently as the skies darken, or lighten. Be kind, including (especially) to yourself, whenever possible. Remember, the Dalai Lama says that’s always possible.

I wish you ease and wellbeing as we close 2025 and step into 2026. I’ll be off until January 8th, so see you then. Stay safe out there. Love you all.

Here we are in the heart of the holidays, and there’s also so much else going on. For me it’s crucial not to rely on finding moments of calm, but instead to remember to create them.

We all probably do that when we can by settling into the couch with a good cup of whatever. Which is beautiful. But what about also cultivating a state of mind that’s not couch-dependent?

One way to do that is with a little concentration. Not the focused, bearing-down type that we use at work, but concentration as in relaxation: just breathing, gently, with ease and with love.

With that kind of concentration, stress evaporates, at least for the moment. There’s just presence, stillness, and rest. There’s nothing sweeter than a nice comfy couch but when one just isn’t available – like when we’re in a courtroom or Zoom room or train – the breath and gentleness and ease and love always are.

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If mindfulness begins with training our attention, what’s the recipe for its other components, courage and grace?

For me, it begins with stillness. I get quiet and sometimes lovingkindness shows up. But sometimes what appears is a parade of horribles: anger, jealousy, greed, and their buddies. And all I can do is cringe.

When that happens and I can stay put, it’s because of courage: that moment of feeling cringy, knowing I’m feeling cringy, and looking anyway. And staying with whatever the cringy thing is (anger, fear, sorrow) – dying to it, as Pema Chodron instructs. And in doing that, reinforcing and strengthening courage. And over time and with practice, porting that courage into the larger, tumultuous moment.

That’s courage, and then there’s the attitude I’m trying to do all of that with, which is grace. Which is maybe just another name for love. Which means here’s my recipe, for right now: sit, look, cringe, keep looking anyway, love, repeat.

It’s almost Thanksgiving in the U.S. so we’re supposed to be practicing gratitude. want to be doing that all the time, but it doesn’t always work out that way. Do you know what I mean?

The world is just in a difficult place, and the trickle-down effect is pretty powerful. But even so, what if we take this one week, and turn it into a practice?

And what if the practice was asking the question, over and over, all day long, what can I be grateful for in this person, right now? And in this person, and this one? And what if we forbade ourselves from answering, “nothing.” What would we find? What could we shift?

I’m going to try it and see. Will you join me?

I’ll be off next Thursday for the holiday. See you on December 4th. Wishing you a safe and joyful Thanksgiving. 🦃🦃

The thing about mindfulness practice is the benefits. I mean, that’s not the only thing - it’s not a benefit-driven endeavor. Hopefully there’s a little altruism mixed in.

But the benefits are big. First, there’s the calm that arises when the body is still and the mind is quiet. That’s worth all the effort in the world, and it’s portable, too: I notice I can take it with me into my day, which is good for me, and good for everyone else, too.

The other benefit is the insight. Insight into the way it’s not easy, this being human. Insight into how to hold things lightly, since everything is coming and going anyway, slipping through our fingers, and we’re all just here for a moment. And insight into how connected we are, even if we forget - how we breathe from the same air, drink from the same rainfall, live and love dependent, and depending, on one another.

All of which begs the same question as always: how to love one another just a little bit better, each day.

Congratulations to Tuesday’s election winners. For me it was a practice moment: feeling joy and hope, and not turning those into something else with regard to the losers.

Which is a practice I can’t do without my basic, present moment attention practice. Which always begs the question of how to cultivate that. If mindfulness is present moment attention, courage, and grace, how do we cultivate the first one?

It’s simple (and not easy): we give ourselves time for stillness. To me this is mostly like giving myself a treat every day. Mostly but not every time, because sometimes I struggle. I eye my meditation cushion warily, as if it’s dragging me away from the fun.

But actually, sitting down anyway is always the right choice for me. Even if I set my timer for just five minutes, I feel relief. Why? I’m not forgoing my practice, for one – commitment kept. I’m continuing to re-wire my brain to stay in the present moment, where the science says happiness lies – and who can’t use a little more happiness right now, even after Tuesday? And, I’m being kind to myself, which makes me kinder to others, including…everyone, which to me is worth all the rest.

We know the practice: present moment awareness. But how do we practice when things are so rough and torn?

First, with love. The invitation, moment by moment, is, can I bring not only awareness, but also love?

Second, with courage. Because no matter how much love we bring, this mind, this body, this world, will present challenges. It’s nothing personal - it’s just the way things work. So, courage.

And third, with grace. When I googled grace, I got three things: simple elegance, courteous goodwill, and doing honor by one’s presence. I like all three, for all of us, moment by moment by moment.

Also, Happy Halloween!