–Maxine Hong Kingston
Maxine Hong Kingston (born 1940) is an American novelist. She is a professor emerita at the University of California, Berkeley, where she graduated in 1962 with a B.A. degree in English. Kingston has written three novels and several works of non-fiction about the experiences of Chinese Americans. Wikipedia
Yeats in 1903
“I am content to follow to its source
Every event in action or in thought;
Measure the lot; forgive myself the lot!
When such as I cast out remorse\
So great a sweetness flows into the breast
We must laugh and we must sing,
We are blest by everything,
Everything we look upon is blest.”
~ W.B. Yeats
William Butler Yeats (June 13, 1865 – January 28, 1939) was an Irish poet, dramatist, writer and literary critic who was one of the foremost figures of 20th-century literature. Wikipedia
Suppose we answer the most important question of existence in the affirmative. There is then only one question remaining: How shall we live this life?
Despite all the technologies of thought and feeling we have invented to divine an answer — philosophy and poetry, scripture and self-help — life stares mutely back at us, immense and indifferent, having abled us with opposable thumbs and handicapped us with a consciousness capable of self-reference that renders us dissatisfied with the banality of mere survival. Beneath the overstory of one hundred trillion synapses, the overthinking animal keeps losing its way in the wilderness of want.
Not so the other animals. “They do not sweat and whine about their condition,” Walt Whitman wrote in Leaves of Grass (which is philosophy and poetry and scripture and self-help in one), “they do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins, they do not make me sick discussing their duty to God, not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things.”
A century and a half after Whitman, Annie Dillard looks to another animal for a model of how to live these human lives. Having let a muskrat be her teacher in unselfconsciousness, she recounts her lens-clearing encounter with a weasel in an essay originally published in her 1982 packet of revelations Teaching a Stone to Talk, later included in The Abundance: Narrative Essays Old and New (public library) — one of my all-time favorite books.
Annie Dillard
She writes:
I startled a weasel who startled me, and we exchanged a long glance.
Twenty minutes from my house, through the woods by the quarry and across the highway, is Hollins Pond, a remarkable piece of shallowness, where I like to go at sunset and sit on a tree trunk. Hollins Pond is also called Murray’s Pond; it covers two acres of bottomland near Tinker Creek with six inches of water and six thousand lily pads. In winter, brown-and-white steers stand in the middle of it, merely dampening their hooves; from the distant shore they look like miracle itself, complete with miracle’s nonchalance. Now, in summer, the steers are gone. The water lilies have blossomed and spread to a green horizontal plane that is terra firma to plodding blackbirds, and tremulous ceiling to black leeches, crayfish, and carp.
This is, mind you, suburbia. It is a five-minute walk in three directions to rows of houses, though none is visible here. There’s a 55-mph highway at one end of the pond, and a nesting pair of wood ducks at the other. Under every bush is a muskrat hole or a beer can. The far end is an alternating series of fields and woods, fields and woods, threaded everywhere with motorcycle tracks — in whose bare clay wild turtles lay eggs.
So, I had crossed the highway, stepped over two low barbed-wire fences, and traced the motorcycle path in all gratitude through the wild rose and poison ivy of the pond’s shoreline up into high grassy fields. Then I cut down through the woods to the mossy fallen tree where I sit. This tree is excellent. It makes a dry, upholstered bench at the upper, marshy end of the pond, a plush jetty raised from the thorny shore between a shallow blue body of water and a deep blue body of sky.
The sun had just set. I was relaxed on the tree trunk, ensconced in the lap of lichen, watching the lily pads at my feet tremble and part dreamily over the thrusting path of a carp. A yellow bird appeared to my right and flew behind me. It caught my eye; I swiveled around — and the next instant, inexplicably, I was looking down at a weasel, who was looking up at me.
Weasel! I’d never seen one wild before. He was ten inches long, thin as a curve, a muscled ribbon, brown as fruitwood, soft-furred, alert. His face was fierce, small and pointed as a lizard’s; he would have made a good arrowhead. There was just a dot of chin, maybe two brown hairs’ worth, and then the pure white fur began that spread down his underside. He had two black eyes I didn’t see, any more than you see a window.
Weasel from from Natural History and Illustrations of Mammals by Heinrich Rudolf Schinz, 1824.
Encounters are events, they touch things in us, change things in us, bend probability in the shape of the possible, tie time and chance into a knot of meaning between two creatures. Dillard recounts:
Our look was as if two lovers, or deadly enemies, met unexpectedly on an overgrown path when each had been thinking of something else: a clearing blow to the gut. It was also a bright blow to the brain, or a sudden beating of brains, with all the charge and intimate grate of rubbed balloons. It emptied our lungs. It felled the forest, moved the fields, and drained the pond; the world dismantled and tumbled into that black hole of eyes. If you and I looked at each other that way, our skulls would split and drop to our shoulders. But we don’t. We keep our skulls. So.
Every meaningful encounter is a kind of enchantment — it comes unbidden and breaks without warning, leaving us transformed. As the weasel vanishes under the wild rose, Dillard finds herself wondering what life is like for a creature whose “journal is tracks in clay, a spray of feathers, mouse blood and bone: uncollected, unconnected, loose leaf, and blown,” and what clues that life might give her about how to live her own. Reflecting on the memory of the encounter, on the revelation of it, she writes:
Art by Jackie Morris from The Wild Cards
Because we are creatures made of time, to change our way of being is to change our experience of time. She considers the chronometry of wildness:
It is hard enough for a human being to attain such purity of being, harder still to share it with another. In a passage that to me is the purest, most exalted measure of love — love of another, love of life — she writes:
We could, you know. We can live any way we want. People take vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience — even of silence — by choice. The thing is to stalk your calling in a certain skilled and supple way, to locate the most tender and live spot and plug into that pulse. This is yielding, not fighting. A weasel doesn’t “attack” anything; a weasel lives as he’s meant to, yielding at every moment to the perfect freedom of single necessity.
I think it would be well, and proper, and obedient, and pure, to grasp your one necessity and not let it go, to dangle from it limp wherever it takes you. Then even death, where you’re going no matter how you live, cannot you part. Seize it and let it seize you up aloft even, till your eyes burn out and drop; let your musky flesh fall off in shreds, and let your very bones unhinge and scatter, loosened over fields, over fields and woods, lightly, thoughtless, from any height at all, from as high as eagles.
For more lessons on how to be human drawn from the lives of other animals, learn about time and tenderness from a donkey, about love and loss from an orca, and about living with a plasticity of being from a caracara.
“Ponder for a long time whether you shall admit a given person to your friendship; but when you have decided to admit him, welcome him with all your heart and soul,” Seneca wrote in considering true and false friendship two millennia before we commodified the word “friend” in the marketplace of loneliness we call social media.
It is easy to forget now how hard-earned that entry into the heart and soul is, and how precious. “Old friends cannot be created out of hand,” Little Prince author Antoine de Saint-Exupéry wrote in the wake of losing a friend, mourning “the treasure of common memories, of trials endured together, of quarrels and reconciliations and generous emotions.” Pulsating beneath his bittersweet lament is the knowledge that the treasure is not found but created — or, rather, co-created. It is more precious and more total than the romantic love our culture fetishizes, for a deep friendship courses through every true love, and it is always more enduring — true friends are the other significant others, often outlasting spouses, often outpacing siblings in running to the rescue of the heart. Such friendships are the hard work of truth and tenderness, sustained by an unfaltering commitment to showing up, a promise of absolute sincerity, and a quality of presence that leaves each aglow with the sense of being treasured.
Art from An Almanac of Birds: 100 Divinations for Uncertain Days — a book of cards. Also available as a stand-alone print and as stationery cards. More divinations here.
How to do that work, how to attain the skills required for it and bear the vulnerabilities inherent to it, is what Alain de Botton takes up in the School of Life primer Secrets of Successful Friendships (public library) — a pointed, poignant field guide to cultivating meaningful connection in a world where loneliness looms oceanic as night.
At the heart of the book is the insistence that friendship — something “tender, fundamental, and emotionally sustaining” — is “as significant and as rare” as romantic love (a case Andrew Sullivan made exquisitely two decades earlier), yet our culture gives us no education in it while drowning us in narrow models of romantic love as the pinnacle of emotional achievement.
This commodification and devaluation of deep friendship is the turbine of our modern loneliness. A century and a half after Thoreau, brilliant and lonely, rued that “we feel a yearning to which no breast answers” and ultimately “walk alone,” De Botton observes that many of us “return home from parties dissatisfied and confused.” Defining friendship as “a sense that in the company of a very special person, we will at last be able to share the most vulnerable and fragile sides of ourselves and be witnessed in our true, unadorned state,” he celebrates it as an antidote to the loneliness and isolation of feeling those sides unwitnessed:
[…]
We are lonely because we are refusing to accept as genuine those cheap, counterfeit images of friendship promoted by a sentimental world keen to disguise the challenges of real connection. Those who feel a lack of friendship most deeply may simply be those who cleave most intensely and sincerely to its genuine promises.
More than a salve for the existential loneliness we are born into, the essential purpose of friendship is emotional growth:
Art from An Almanac of Birds: 100 Divinations for Uncertain Days — a book of cards. Also available as a stand-alone print and as stationery cards. More divinations here.
Friendship, however, is not a unitary phenomenon — there are as many species of it as there are species of loneliness. He writes:
He offers a taxonomy that includes such species as the emotional confidante, the thinking partner, and the counterpoint. (It is the luck of a lifetime to find a friend who can play many of these roles, and the work of a lifetime to nurture that friendship.)
The deepest friendships offer us a “true and fulfilling togetherness” that can help us “feel reconciled to our own company,” for they are often the twining of two parallel solitudes. Such friendships are not a matter of luck — just as chance and choice converge to make us who we are, chance may place someone wonderful in our path, but it is by choice — a daily choice — that we endeavor to walk together in the same direction and grow along the way.
Art by Sarah Jacoby from The Coziest Place on the Moon — a cosmic fable about how to live with loneliness and what true friendship gives us
De Botton writes:
In the remainder of Secrets of Successful Friendships, De Botton offers the rudiments of such an education, from the enemies of friendship (overcommitment, envy, “the absence of shared challenges”) to its pillars (deep listening, acts of service, horizontal conversations) to its fate in the age of AI. Couple it with this excellent Where Shall We Meet conversation with Alain de Botton about the subtleties and varieties of friendship, then revisit this introvert’s guide to friendship from Thoreau and Alain de Botton on romantic love.
We aren’t just a sum of parts but the product of constant division and multiplication, constantly denying the erratic arithmetic and calling our denial self. The parts we live with are who we are, and those we cannot live with are the turbine of our suffering. The most difficult decisions in life are difficult precisely because we are unsummed, too divided to reconcile the desires of one part with those of another. We watch ourselves undergo overnight phase transitions of feeling as a different part seizes the dials of pleasure and pain that govern all human behavior, then pull the quilt of time and thinking over our head to maintain the illusion of coherence, disavowing entire regions of our own experience as if someone else lived them. “Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.),” wrote Whitman, knowing that we are each “of one phase and of all phases,” that within us each live the slaveholder and the slave, the woman being burned at the stake and the man striking the match.
Perhaps “god” is just how we name our yearning for a single truth, for an integrating voice to conciliate the contradictions, for something large and total to hold what we cannot hold.
Detail from the art in Cueva de las Manos, Argentina, created between 7,300 BC and 700 AD.
Sixteen centuries before Whitman, the Gnostics — those spiritual visionaries who saw the wholeness of being before modern Christianity partitioned the body and the soul — channeled that voice in “The Thunder: Perfect Mind,” part of what is now known as the Nag Hammadi Library: a set of ancient texts discovered in a jar at the foot of a cliff by two illiterate Muslim brothers in 1945. The long poem of contrasts and conciliation “appears to derive from the female-centered Isis worship preceding Christianity,” writes poet and ordained Buddhist Jane Hirshfield in introducing her translation of it in Women in Praise of the Sacred: 43 Centuries of Spiritual Poetry by Women (public library).
In “The Heart Thunder,” spoken word artist Kim Rosen brings this immortal abacus of the soul to life in a breathtaking performance, fusing the Gnostic gospel with the concluding mantra of the Buddhist Heart Sutra to the pulse-beat of a multi-instrumental orchestra — cello, percussion, piano, guitar, and vocals by musicians Jami Sieber, Wayne P. Sheehy, and Chloe Goodchild:
translated by Jane HirshfieldSent from the Power,
I have come
to those who reflect upon me.
Look upon me,
you who meditate,
and hearers, hear.
Whoever is waiting for me,
take me into yourselves.
Do not drive me
out of your eyes,
or out of your voice,
or our of your ears.
Observe: Do not forget who I am.For I am the first, and the last
I am the honored one, and the scorned,
I am the whore and the holy one.
I am the wife and the virgin.
I am the mother, the daughter,
and every part of both.
I am the barren one who has borne many sons.
I am she whose wedding is great
and I have not accepted a husband.
I am the midwife and the childless one,
the easing of my own labor.
I am the bride and the bridegroom
and my husband is my father.
I am the mother of my father,
the sister of my husband;
my husband is my child.
My offspring are my own birth,
the source of my power,
what happens to me is their wish.I am the incomprehensible silence
And the memory that will not be forgotten.
I am the voice whose sound is everywhere
I am the speech that appears in many forms.
I am the utterance of my own name.Why, you who hate me, do you love me,
and hate those who love me?
You who tell the truth about me, lie,
and you who have lied, now tell the truth.
You who know me, be ignorant,
and you who have not known me, know.For I am knowledge and ignorance.
I am modesty and boldness.
I am shameless, and I am ashamed.
I am strength and I am fear.
I am war and I am peace.Give heed to me,
the one who has been everywhere hated
and the one who is everywhere loved.
I am the one they call Life,
the one you call Death.
I am the one they call Law,
the one you call Lawless.
I am the one you have scattered,
and you have gathered me together.
I am godless, and I am the one
whose God is great.
I am the one whom you have reflected upon
and the one you have scorned.
I am unlearned,
and from me all people learn.
I am the one to whom you reveal yourself,
Yet wherever you think I hide, I appear,
And wherever you reveal yourself,
there I will vanish.Those who are close to me,
have failed to know me,
and those who are far from me know me.
On the day when I am close to you,
that day you are far from me;
on the day when I am far from you,
that day I am close.I am the joining and the dissolving.
I am what lasts, and what goes,
I am the one going down,
and the one toward whom they ascend.
I am the condemnation and the acquittal.
For myself, I am sinless,
and the roots of sin grow in my being.
I am the desire of the outer,
and control of the inner.
I am the hearing in everyone’s ears,
I am the speech which cannot be heard,
I am the mute who is speechless,
great are the multitudes of my words.Hear me in softness,
and learn me in roughness.
I am she who cries out,
and I am cast forth upon the face of the earth.
I prepare the bread and my mind within.
I am called truth.You praise me and you whisper against me.
You who have been defeated,Judge before you are judged:
the judge and all judging exist inside you,
and the one who formed you on the outside
is the one who shaped you within.And what you see outside you, you see within.
It is visible and it is your garment.Give heed then, you hearers,
and you also, angels and those who have been sent,
and you spirits risen now from the dead.
I am the one who alone exists,
there is no one to judge me.
For though there is much sweetness
in passionate life, in transient pleasure,
finally soberness comes
and people flee to their place of rest.
There they will find me,
and live, and not die again.
Couple with “To Be a Person” — Jane Hirshfield’s magnificent poem about how to bear our human condition — then revisit Margaret Fuller’s account of touching “The All,” the Transcendentalists’ term for the totality of being the Gnostics eulogized in their gospel.
4 days ago by Ian MacIntyre ( @ )
LONDON, ON – Self-professed “god-fearing Christian” and registered Conservative voter Graham Cortland has recently expressed an openness to being afraid of numerous other aspects of everyday life.
“I was raised in the Protestant faith to have a healthy fear of the Lord our God,” explains Cortland, 52, “and that dogmatic terror of eternal damnation has allowed me to seamlessly incorporate being afraid of atheists, homosexuals, birth control, and in some cases Catholics.”
Now, Cortland explains that recent media trends have led him to expand his list of fears. “I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts, namely Rebel Media, old episodes of Charlie Kirk, and whatever podcasts have Pierre Poilievre shooting his mouth off. I’ve realized there are so many more things I could’ve been afraid of this entire time!”
Cortland explains that he will soon try being afraid of cities, minorities, progressives, universities, and the entire municipality of Portland, Oregon.
“I’ve been afraid of God my whole life, but he also created a big wide world full of things to be irrationally fearful of.”
Cortland’s family are supportive of his recent attempts to find new moral panics by which to be consumed.
“Fear of the Heavenly Father’s eternal judgement is what brought us together, way back when Graham was my youth pastor,” explains Ellen Cortland, 41. “Recently, we’ve been spicing up our marriage, and experimenting with being scared of transgendered ideology.”
“Shared moral panic over people we’ve never actually encountered has really brought us closer as a couple,” adds Ellen.
“Dad and I used to enjoy watching baseball together,” notes eldest son Brad Cortland, 23. “But ever since the Jays started wearing those Pride jerseys once a season, we’ve been having way more fun working each other up into a frothing outraged hysteria.”
With Cortland expanding his range of fears to soon include homelessness, public transit, gender neutral bathrooms, bike lanes, Indian food, and the musical Wicked, he has mused about keeping space for his original terror of the God he was raised to obey.
“If the Divine Creator didn’t want me to be afraid of nearly everything that he has created, specifically things found in downtown Toronto, then I imagine he would appear before me and tell me to stop,” Cortland muses.
“He hasn’t done that, so I assume he wants me to get to fearing!”
(thebeaverton.com)
October 22, 2025 (menalive.com)
I have been a highly sensitive man all my life, but never knew that it was “a thing,” until I read Dr. Elaine Aron’s book, The Highly Sensitive Person: How to Thrive When the World Overwhelms You, which was first published in 1996. In the book she asked:
I remember feeling a chill of delight when I first read those words. She nailed me! Finally, I thought, someone who understands what life is like for me and who can help me accept and appreciate who I am.
For more than fifty years I have worked in the emerging field of Gender-Specific Healing and Men’s Health and have written seventeen books on various aspects of men’s mental, emotional, and relational health. In 2022 I heard about a film that was being made called “Sensitive Men Rising,” by filmmaker Will Harper.
I was totally excited and wanted to know when the film would be available. He explained that there was still much to be done, money to raise, music to license, etc. “It will be a while,” he told me. As we exchanged emails and he learned more about my own work, he asked if he could interview me for the film. I felt honored and immediately accepted.
The film is now available here, with this note from Will:
I am a Sensory Processing Sensitive Man.
I Made This Film Out Of A Need.
I Made This Film For Men.
I Made It For Boys.
I Made It For All.
Will Harper-The Sensitive Director
December 31, 2024
In June 2024 I wrote an article about the film for my weekly newsletter and shared more about the people I had met since learning about the film. The article titled “Sensitive Men Rising: Why the World Needs Us Now More Than Ever,” can be read here.
In the article I said,
“A new documentary film, Sensitive Men Rising (SMR), is turning its lens to the billion men who have largely been hidden in the shadows. Thanks to the breakthrough that we now know as ‘sensory processing sensitivity’ (SPS) — popularly known as ‘high sensitivity’— we know men can play a pivotal role in changing the face and times of masculinity as a force for good in the world.”
I quoted Dr. Aron, who said,
“As some of you know, I have a special place in my heart for highly sensitive men. I really do like them. That is part of why I want to see this movie made about them. But what makes them different from other HSPs or other men?”
Just as her research findings demonstrated that “high sensitivity” is a biologically-based trait present not only in human beings but other species as well, she recognizes that “male sensitivity” also has biological roots.
“First, Highly Sensitive Males (HSMs) develop under the influence of male genes, the main factor being testosterone. Gender spectrum aside, almost all HSMs (and men in general) are clearly biologically male.”
Dr. Aron goes on to say that these issues are complex and we will learn more over time, yet there are things that we can say now.
“Of course, male and female behavior is such that many men do some things women normally do and vice versa, but hormones have to make HSMs and HSWs different in some ways. How do hormones interact with sensitivity? We do not know yet, but they surely do, and we need to learn about it. Maybe that’s phase two of the research.”
Dr. Aron also recognizes the importance of understanding evolutionary realities as we seek to work with this important, biologically, based trait.
“Looking back at the evolution of male behavior we know sensitivity works enough to be present in 20 or even 30% of the population and in equal numbers in men and women. That means HSMs have been successful at reproducing themselves, but how?”
She goes on to say,
“When you know that you are highly sensitive, it reframes your life. Knowing that you have this trait will enable you to make better decisions.
Early in my life, I always felt my sensitivity made me different from most of my male peers. Now, as a father of five, grandfather of seventeen, and great grandfather of four, I realize I’m part of a select group of males who have a larger calling in life.
Based on her own research and that of others, she suggests that we look to the unique ways in which men are engaged with their children.
“We know human males evolved into a strategy found in some birds and in some other mammals, which is staying around after mating to help raise their own young. This method of seeing their DNA go on to the next generation contrasts sharply with simply mating as often as possible with as many females as possible and not staying around after.”
If we weren’t highly sensitive before we had children, being an involved father will definitely bring out the best in us.
“Bottom line,” says Dr. Aron, “Highly Sensitive Men Have S.T.Y.L.E.”
Dr. Aron gives us a simple acronym to summarize how this unique trait of High Sensitivity manifests itself in men.
In the same way I felt a hidden part of my essence as a person was revealed when I first read Elaine Aron’s book, The Highly Sensitive Person, I deepened my sense of self when I read Tracy M. Cooper’s book, Thrill: The Sensation Seeking Highly Sensitive Person.
“Sensation seeking is a personality trait comprising four main aspects,” says Dr. Cooper.
The more I learned, the more I realized, Yes, that’s me, too!
Dr. Cooper told me that high sensation seeking, highly sensitive people (HSS/HSP) are often left out in understanding the gifts and challenges we face.
“Since we are up to half the HSP population, it is vital that we be included,” he told me.
You can learn more about Dr. Cooper’s work here.
William Allen is another “highly sensitive man,” friend, and colleague. He is also the author of the book, On Being a Sensitive Man: Success Strategies for Harnessing Your Highly Sensitive Nature. Dr. Tracy Cooper wrote the Foreword for the book and Dr. Elaine Aron said,
“William Allen is a major voice for highly sensitive men, tirelessly advocating for the need to redefine masculinity in a way that includes the huge contributions highly sensitive men make to the world.”
His website offers articles, classes, podcasts, men’s groups, and a community of open-hearted and like-minded seekers of truth.
You can learn more about William Allen here:
A few of the real-life Highly Sensitive Men I have admired in my life include:
These are all highly sensitive men who also have had to stand up against oppression with the strength of peaceful warriors. A man who also fits that description is meditation master Chögyam Trungpa. In my book, The Warrior’s Journey Home: Healing Men, Healing the Planet, I quote Trungpa who says,
“Warriorship does not refer to making war on others. Aggression is the source of our problems, not the solution. Here the word ‘warrior’ is taken from the Tibetan, pawo, which literally means ‘one who is brave.’ Warriorship in this context is the tradition of human bravery, or the tradition of fearlessness. Warriorship is not being afraid of who you are.”
We are at a time in human history where Highly Sensitive Men are needed now more than ever. Mark Jamison, Head of Global Clients, VISA, Inc., one of the experts featured in the film Sensitive Men Rising, says,
“The world is falling apart, political divisiveness is pulling us under, the environment is being destroyed. We need a different model. When people see options that bring hope and sensitivity and a much more integrative approach to problem solving, I see them embracing it with their arms wide open.”
At the end of the film, Dr. Elaine Aron concludes,
“Most of the world’s suffering is due to a certain kind of masculinity. A different kind can change that. Sensitive men are rising. It’s a whole new ball game.”
Let me know how this resonates with you. I always like to hear from readers. You can visit me at www.MenAlive.com.
Best Wishes,
Founder and VHS (Visionary Healer Scholar) of MenAlive
From Rhonda Byrne, the author of the worldwide phenomenon The Secret, comes The Greatest Secret—a long-awaited major new work that offers revelations and practices to end suffering and discover lasting happiness.
Ancient traditions knew that to hide a secret it should be put in plain sight, where no-one will think to look for it. Billions of people on our planet have searched—but few have discovered the truth. Those few are completely free from negativity and live in permanent peace and happiness.
For the rest of us, whether we realize it or not, we’ve been in search of this truth unceasingly every single day of our lives. What secret can possibly be so lifechanging? What single discovery offers a direct path to end suffering and to live a life of deep joy?
The Greatest Secret is a quantum leap that will take the reader beyond the material world and into the spiritual realm, where all possibilities exist. Inside The Greatest Secret, you’ll find:
· Profound wisdom from spiritual teachers from around the world, past and present, who have discovered the greatest secret.
· Healing practices that can be put to use immediately to dissolve fears, uncertainty, anxiety, and pain.
· The ultimate key to end suffering and discover lasting happiness.
“The Secret showed you how to create anything you want to be, do, or have. Nothing has changed – it is as true today as it ever was. This book reveals the greatest discovery a human being can ever make, and shows you the way out of negativity, problems, and what you don’t want, to a life of permanent happiness and bliss.”—From The Greatest Secret
Rhonda Byrne is an Australian television writer and producer, best known for her New Thought works, The Secret—a book and a film by the same name. By the Spring of 2007 the book had sold almost 4 million copies, and the DVD had sold more than 2 million copies. She has also been a producer for Sensing Murder. According to an article published by Australia’s Herald Sun, Byrne has also worked on the Australian TV series World’s Greatest Commercials and Marry Me. In 2007, Byrne was listed among Time Magazine’s list of 100 people who shape the world.
(Recommended by Steve Hines)
