Heaven is above and hell is below. Our lives are a journey in hell or heaven; depending on who we are, the temporary self or the eternal soul. Our self engages us with never-ending needs (food, shelter, security and health) and desires (that which we think we need but otherwise don't) for which we can realize but temporary satisfactions and happiness. This is the endless cycle of hell; where happiness is but temporary, leading us to search for more temporary happiness. We search here, there and everywhere. The more we look, the less we see. Eventually, we come upon a rabbit hole into which we and and others like us descend. It is a lightless place where our eyes cannot see. What we think we see are individual and collective illusions of our self's creation; stories, descriptions and generalizations to which we react as if they are real. As the illusions are not real, we keep searching; searching for the duration of our lives. This is the journey in hell. Those of us who have no needs or desires are grateful. Gratitude brings us sustained happiness; a calm state devoid of the self's distractions and illusions. We are in the pre-sent, the time before time begins and before everything is what it is whatever it is in the now. Happy, we don't search the Earth for temporary satisfactions. Then, we can look up and see the sun revealing our world and trillions of stars revealing trillions upon trillions of other worlds; the endless, infinite universe. We realize how infinitesimally small, meaningless and insignificant we are in the scheme of things; that taking our illusions, our selves, seriously is silly and laughable. We realize we are not independent entities in the universe; we are the soul, the universe before it expresses itself. As the light of the sun and stars enter our eyes, we realize we are the light; that what we see is who we are; that I am who I am and the universe is what it is whatever it is. This is enlightenment. This is the journey in heaven....

"The richest person is not the one who has the most but who needs the least." Once we have our basic needs of food, shelter, security and health and have no desires, we do not suffer from selfish distractions in pursuit of things material or otherwise. All that remains is gratitude for what we have and have not, a key to happiness; the purpose of wealth....

There are those who experience life very differently than others, but know they are not different which is what makes them different....

Only fools think the past cannot be changed and they can make the future to their liking. The past is passed. It doesn't exists but as an illusion in our individual and collective memories. We can free ourselves from the illusion of the past by viewing what's passed from multiple perspectives until it is no longer what we once thought it was. Thereby, we can change the past, rendering it to our liking or meaningless. This is the wisdom fools lack. The future is what it is whatever it is. It is foolish to think we can manipulate or wish it to our liking. All we can do is prepare to make the best of it as it unfolds in the now....

In January, 2022, during the waning days of the quarantine pandemic (yes, a pandemic of quarantines), I travelled to Japan where strict quarantine protocols were still in effect; upon entering Japan I would be sequestered for three days in a government managed hotel. While I could have delayed the trip until the quarantine was lifted, it seemed fun to experience a quarantine. Given a choice between three days of quarantine and three days of leisure, clearly I'd choose leisure. However, the quarantine didn't seem it would be much of a problem and as 90% of any experience is experiencing oneself, the quarantine like most things would be fun for me. Moreover, the stories my memory could weave out of the quarantine experience would make it fun regardless of what it was at the time. After a 14 hour flight from New York City to Tokyo, I was among a thousand or so people held at Tokyo airport for processing. We were held captive for 15 hours by dozens of police officers and people running around in hazmat suits. Everyone was in operating room mode, all masked up. It felt otherworldly, even in Japan which is already otherworldly. Food rations were limited to the inedible that no dietician would ever recommend; hot dogs, bread, sugary fruit juices. As we were closely packed together, people slept on chairs and floor, a veritable petri dish where a single Covid infected individual could easily spread the virus. At some point, people's street clothes looked like pajamas needing a wash; people became restive. Finally, after extensive testing of secretions from nose to spit and waiting on innumerable lines with paperwork in hand, we were taken to a government hotel and placed in solitary confinement. My room was luxurious from the perspective of anyone living before 1850 or currently in a refugee camp, but otherwise basic. Fortunately, there was a big clock in the room, allowing me to identify breakfast, lunch and dinner as each meal was essentially the same thing, whatever the thing was. I did have the freedom to smoke cigars in the room; though the hotel stopped offering coffee three years back and what's a cigar without a coffee! Entertainment was via cell phone and emails; fun connecting with others who pitied my plight which truly wasn't bad. Ultimately, I'd recommend a quarantine as a good remedy for jetlag. After the quarantine, I returned to the everyday world and typical high points of a trip to Japan; restaurants, onsens, meetings with colorful people, viewing gardens and landscapes and visiting shrines. Today, I hold little memory of those moments, but the odd and peaceful time in quarantine is with me forever. If we can't enjoy a quarantine in a civilized country, how can we enjoy most things....

Every-thing in reality is fascinating as every-thing is unique and everchanging. When we find something boring, we see it not with our eyes but with our mind as only the mind can make something boring. Our mind sees things not as they are but as the static categories it creates and into which it places things. When we take our mind's perceptions as reality, we see things not as they are but as what our mind has made of them; transforming the dynamic into the mundane. Thus, it is our mind that makes things boring....

Early in my Wall Street career I was rejected as a applicant for a trading job at a premier money management firm because I am a Jew. The firm's managing partner was a reasonably smart and affable US born gentleman who was proud of his German roots. While we met for interviews many times, got along along very well and clearly I was the best candidate for the job (the person ultimately hired was not particularly talented and didn't last long at the job), he was uncomfortable with Jews based on his family's lore. This was clear based on his social club memberships, that he had no Jews on staff and that as a member of the board of directors and employee of a Wall Street brokerage firm he was the sole vote opposing the merger of the brokerage firm with a Jewish-owned commodity trading firm which resulted in the commodity firm become the largest stockholder of the brokerage firm. That is, that he would henceforth be working for Jews. Ultimately, rejected from this plum job, I took a job at a third tier firm. While opportunity lost and rejection on the grounds of religious heritage might have provoked anger or dismay in others in like circumstances, I thought it was funny. I loved this managing director (as I do everyone) but viewed him as struggling with a mental handicap that limited his ability to make choices that would be in his best self-interest. His mental handicap is "labeling," the generic form of discrimination. Labeling, like broad generalizations and categorizations, seems to make us comfortable, thinking we understand individual things; but, ultimately, labeling reveals we know nothing about the individual things we label. When someone knows nothing but thinks otherwise, that's funny. It's funny that his ignorance was my bliss and, in hindsight, the story of the experience is better than would have been the job....

Years ago, soon after college, I had a girlfriend with whom I was in love like never before. It was wonderful every which way, a fine balance of complementary roles and common interests. Moreover, she had a stimulating mind and body. Sex was cosmic; orgasm was the Big Bang, we were one with everything. One day, she declared that she met another guy and wanted to leave me. I was happy for her as she felt she was going to greener pastures. I was also happy for myself as her leaving allowed me greater freedom to connect with others. Ultimately, she returned and we continued our relationship where we left off. It was terrific once again. However, when I had an occasion to leave for another girl, she was quite upset, but not sad. It was then I realized she may have loved having me but not me....

Robert Thurman is a scholar, author and academic who founded Tibet House and was in 1965 the first American Tibetan Buddhist ordained by the Dalai Lama. For many years, Thurman biannually lead groups on tours of the holy sites in Tibet. In the late 1990s, I sought to join Thurman on such a tour. I contacted Geographic Expeditions (GE), the tour organizer, two years before Thurman's next trip. I was told that as I was the first inquiry, I would head the list of those going. After, periodically I called GE for an update on the timing and particulars of the trip. Finally, some months before the trip, I was told that as they had received more interest from people than available slots, 15, everyone was required to write an essay as to why they wanted to go; however, as mine was the first inquiry, my essay was proforma and I could rest assured that I'd be included on the trip. In my essay, I spoke about my collection of ancient Himalayan and Tibetan Buddhist art and that I had read a couple of Thurman's books. As the tour was coming together in final form, GE contacted me to say that Thurman was only accepting applications from "serious Buddhists" which he didn't deem me to be one. Thus, my application was rejected. I was surprised as "serious Buddhists" seemed an oxymoron. Inquiring further, GE said they had 16 essay applications. I was the only one rejected from going on the trip. My reaction to this news: a hearty laugh. It was funny, like other similar situations I've been in, but I hadn't thought why until recently. What's funny is imagining that some people in my situation would be upset about it, something that's passed, instead of otherwise rejoicing about their good fortune. After waiting two years, spending time with inquires, writing an essay, being told they are good to go and very much looking forward to the trip, some would be upset being rejected. However, their consolation prize was having the financial resources, health, time to take such a trip and now, not going on the trip, extra time and money to spend on something else. As such, they should be grateful for their good fortune; especially as thinking about a trip is more than half the experience of it. It's funny to think that some people choose to view their circumstances in ways that make them unhappy. Maybe that's what serious Buddhists do. If so, it's good the serious Buddhists were allowed on the trip and not me, as that precluded anyone becoming unhappy....