Hey friends—
This is an early look at my next book, I LOVE YOU, KEEP GOING: An Irreverent Experiment in Finding Peace and Making Bank.
It’s a field guide for building sturdy happiness—wisdom that holds even when life doesn’t. Every chapter explores a foundational practice, reimagined for modern chaos.
This one’s called Mindfulness of Feelings (vedanānupassanā).
The Most Sacred Mountain
One clock said five a.m. Another said three-thirty. My body didn’t agree with either. Time is an elusive bastard.
I was somewhere between yesterday and whatever comes after tomorrow—horizontal on a coconut-husk-filled bed in a jungle monastery. The monks called the furnishings “simplistic.” My spine called it bullshit.
When I finally woke, the air was like breathing soup. I made coffee in a kitchen about the size of a closet. Random monks came and went. Venerable Bhante Sujatha—my monk, teacher, travel companion, and most frustrating friend—eventually joined me.
I told him some idea I’d had in the night that led to questions about our plans. He stopped me mid-sentence:
“Wait. Let’s not discuss. Let’s listen for the answer.”
The jungle went silent. Then, the geckos erupted in their chirping.
Bhante smiled.
“Our minds are cloudy. The geckos have pure minds. When they sing, our idea is good. When they’re silent, our ideas should be observed and let go.”
They sang like a choir.
That evening we’d begin climbing Sri Pada—Adam’s Peak, the most sacred mountain in Sri Lanka. Buddhists say the Buddha’s footprint rests at the summit. Hindus say it’s Shiva’s. Muslims claim Adam’s. Everyone agrees it’s steep as hell to get there: eight miles up, all stairs.
In the months leading up to the climb, people asked what I was seeking. Truthfully—nothing. For once, I wasn’t chasing clarity or transformation. I was simply empty enough to go. Sometimes emptiness is the only honest motivation left.
Making Compassion
We left at nine p.m. in a van that smelled like diesel and devotion, a Buddha bobblehead on the dash. Halfway there, the driver jumped out, ran to a roadside altar, bowed three times, shoved some money in a bucket, and jumped back in. No explanation. Just reverence.
At the base, Bhante grinned.
“Let’s make compassion.”
That’s what locals call the pilgrimage. When one rests, all rest. When one struggles, others help. Making compassion on the mountain is easy. Keeping it when we come down—that’s the real work.
Vedanā: Feeling Before Thought
As we climbed, my flashlight carved a tunnel through the blackness. My whole world shrank to breath, feet, sweat, stars.
Then something shifted.
Not emotional feeling—but the raw, pre-language kind. The background hum.
That’s vedanā—the Buddha’s second foundation of mindfulness. It’s not a story or judgment; it’s tone. Pleasant. Unpleasant. Neutral.
Everything we crave, hate, or ignore starts here.
Pleasant: we chase.
Unpleasant: we resist.
Neutral: we overlook.
The climb became my teacher:
Cool air—pleasant.
Burning thighs—unpleasant.
Endless repetition—neutral, until it wasn’t.
Each sensation morphed before I could name it. Like weather blowing through my nervous system.
This is the part most of us miss: feelings come first, thoughts come after.
We think we think our lives into being, but we actually feel them into motion.
If you can notice that flicker—the pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral—you can interrupt the whole cycle of craving, aversion, and ignorance that runs most of your life.
When you know your feelings, they stop owning you.
The Climb
Halfway up, someone lied and said we were almost there. Lies like that are mercy. If we knew the full distance, we’d never begin.
My legs burned like a motherfucker. Ten steps, rest. Then five.
I realized how often in my life I’d given up just because I couldn’t maintain the pace I started with.
How many things have I abandoned simply because they stopped feeling good?
That’s the heart of this practice—watching how quickly “pleasant” becomes the only state we want to live in.
Pleasant doesn’t last. Unpleasant doesn’t either. Neutral—my least favorite—makes up most of existence.
If I want to wake up, I’ve got to fall in love with neutral.
The climb taught me: most of enlightenment is just not being bored by ordinary life.
Sunrise at the Top
At the summit, drenched in sweat and shivering, we found the gates locked. Pilgrims arrived all night, joyful, then crushed when they realized it was closed.
So we waited. Huddled in silence. Compassion became the architecture.
When the sun rose, the light revealed what darkness had hidden: we’d been climbing a sheer cliff, thousands of feet above the jungle. If I’d known, I’d never have started.
Sometimes not knowing saves your life.
When the head monk finally opened the gate, Bhante and I knelt before the sacred footprint. A woman behind me wept. Her daughter in a blue coat stepped forward, and Bhante invited her to join him in a blessing.
My chest cracked open.
No emotion had a name big enough. It wasn’t joy, sorrow, or awe. Just pure, unfiltered feeling—vedanā in its rawest form.
Descent and Return
There’s a giant iron bell at the top. Pilgrims ring it once for every climb. Bhante rang it fourteen times. I rang it once—though I’m not so sure it’ll be my last.
The descent was brutal. My ego came roaring back: I did it! I’m enlightened! I deserve carbs!
In the light of day, I saw all I’d missed: shrines, waterfalls, temples to gods I didn’t even know. Buddhists, Hindus, Christians—all climbing the same stairs, worshipping in the same places. Together.
Days later, I sat on a balcony overlooking the jungle, thinking about the climb and the full spectrum of feeling it contained.
Joy, pain, reverence, exhaustion, love, silence.
All of them passed through like weather.
That’s the secret: mindfulness of feeling doesn’t make life easier—it makes it clearer. You stop building happiness on emotional weather that keeps changing.
That’s what I call sturdy happiness.
Wisdom for the Road
Red Lights (off track):
Letting feelings drive you
Thinking unpleasant means bad
Fighting neutrality because it feels like nothing
Using emotion as evidence instead of information
Green Lights (on track):
You notice tone before story
Pleasant, unpleasant, neutral—no judgment, just data
You treat emotions like weather, not law
You stop trying to make joy last
You realize neutrality is the secret door to peace
Check-In
When I feel something strong, do I react or just recognize it?
Do I confuse intensity with truth?
Am I ignoring the boring middle where most of my life actually happens?
If I didn’t have to fix my feelings, what would I notice next?
Practice
For one day, check in every hour and identify: pleasant, unpleasant, neutral.
When a feeling hits, say: Thanks for the information. I’ll consider it.
Sit with a neutral moment—traffic, waiting, silence.
Resist the urge to escape it.
That’s where the real practice lives.
Want to Explore This Work?
If this chapter stirred something in you—if you’re ready to explore how mindfulness, money, and meaning intersect in your real life though coaching—let’s talk.
Because this isn’t theory.
It’s practice.
And practice is the real climb.