that don't impress me much
on deplatforming gurus
"If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him."
The message of this well-known Buddhist koan has always stayed with me. Its message is simple but profound: resist the urge to idolize teachers or gurus. Instead, seek the wisdom already within you. As Zen monk Shunryu Suzuki put it: "Zen master will say, 'Kill the Buddha!' Kill the Buddha if the Buddha exists somewhere else. Kill the Buddha, because you should resume your own Buddha nature."
The older I get, the more complicated my heroes become.
Growing up as a preacher’s kid, you’d think I would spot hypocrisy easily (especially among leaders) and that my background would have made me wary of hero-worship. And yet, often I find myself out searching for people to admire, to learn from — only to be inevitably let down once I see behind the curtain.
I learn more from my disillusionment than I ever did from my admiration.
Did growing up in the evangelical church prime me for to look for a hero? Or is it simply human nature to crave someone to look up to?
As part of the recovery work I did last year, I started learning about the therapy approach of Internal Family Systems (IFS), a model that sees the mind as made up of many "parts," each with its own voice, needs, and wisdom. Healing comes not by silencing parts, but by listening to and integrating them.
Learning to make space for paradox — in myself and in others — has been life-changing.
When conflict arises at work now, I remind myself: it’s not the whole person reacting; it’s just a part. And it’s not all of me responding either. A simple shift: but recognizing all the parts at work helps me practice patience and compassion, both for others and for myself.
In recovery spaces, we often say: "Take what’s useful and leave the rest." Lately, I’ve realized the same approach can apply to people.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve gotten to know more about a teacher and leader whose voice I’ve long admired — and it turns out, even beautiful writers and deep thinkers have a few jerky parts. The difference now is that I can hold space not just for the parts that light me up, but also for the parts that piss me off.
In a polarizing world that pushes us to cancel and cut off others, remembering that every person can hold both light + shadow feels like an act of quiet rebellion.
The next time I find myself swept up in fan-girling over someone new, I hope I’ll remember: they’re human, too. Just like me.
Things that brought me joy this week:
My T2 marks are finally all submitted and approved and posted! This week was the transition between being a teacher and being a student. Starting Monday, the road to finishing this dissertation begins! Wish me luck.
I reached the peak of Mt. Everest! My versaclimbing studio had a “climb Everest” challenge for the month, and after today’s class, I made it up 31,000 feet this month.
This week I went for my annual mammogram screening, and Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls just wanna have fun” came on at just the right moment.
I had a very long coffee visit with one of my good friends who is in her 70s, close to my mama’s age. There’s such a quiet wisdom and confidence that comes with aging, and I am here for it.
Emma comes back home on Monday! Hopefully that is also the day that Pierre Poilievre has a terrible day.
It’s finally spring in these parts. FINALLY! Still no sign of leaves on trees, but today, I am going crocus hunting.
Reading: Careless People: A Cautionary Tale of Power, Greed, and Lost Idealism by Sarah Wynn-Williams. Watching: Sister Wives season 19 Listening: the At Issue panel on CBC.
Meme of the week:
“even beautiful writers and deep thinkers have a few jerky parts” 🩵🩵🩵 love this analysis and way you’ve worked through it all 🩵🩵