The central question of a warrior's training is not how we avoid uncertainty and fear but how we relate to discomfort.

One of the deepest habitual patterns that we have is to feel that now is not enough.

Impermanence is a principle of harmony. When we don't struggle against it, we are in harmony with reality.

Trying to run away is never the answer to being a fully human. Running away from the immediacy of our experience is like preferring death to life.

True compassion does not come from wanting to help out those less fortunate than ourselves but from realizing our kinship with all beings.

We could learn to stop when the sun goes down and when the sun comes up. We could learn to listen to the wind; we could learn to notice that it's raining or snowing or hailing or calm. We could reconnect with the weather that is ourselves, and we could realize that it's sad. The sadder it is, and the vaster it is, the more our heart opens. We can stop thinking that good practice is when it's smooth and calm, and bad practice is when it's rough and dark. If we can hold it all in our hearts, then we can make a proper cup of tea.

Like all explorers, we are drawn to discover what's out there without knowing yet if we have the courage to face it.