We think that the point is to pass the test or overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don't really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It's just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.

Meditation practice isn't about trying to throw ourselves away and become something better. It's about befriending who we are already.

As long as our orientation is toward perfection or success, we will never learn about unconditional friendship with ourselves, nor will we find compassion.

The essence of bravery is being without self-deception.

Fear is a natural reaction to moving closer to the truth.

The spiritual journey is not about heaven and finally getting to a place that's really swell.

We don't set out to save the world; we set out to wonder how other people are doing and to reflect on how our actions affect other people's hearts.

Nothing ever goes away until it has taught us what we need to know.

Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible be found in us.

Rather than letting our negativity get the better of us, we could acknowledge that right now we feel like a piece of shit and not be squeamish about taking a good look.

Rejoicing in ordinary things is not sentimental or trite. It actually takes guts.

The greatest obstacle to connecting with our joy is resentment.

The most difficult times for many of us are the ones we give ourselves.

The only reason we don't open our hearts and minds to other people is that they trigger confusion in us that we don't feel brave enough or sane enough to deal with.

When things fall apart and we're on the verge of we know not what, the test of each of us is to stay on that brink and not concretize.

Sticking with uncertainty, getting the knack of relaxing in the midst of chaos, learning not to panic—this is the spiritual path.

To be fully alive, fully human, and completely awake is to be continually thrown out of the nest.

The future is completely open, and we are writing it moment to moment.

The truth you believe and cling to makes you unavailable to hear anything new.

Life is glorious, but life is also wretched. It is both. Appreciating the gloriousness inspires us, encourages us, cheers us up, gives us a bigger perspective, energizes us. We feel connected. But if that's all that's happening, we get arrogant and start to look down on others, and there is a sense of making ourselves a big deal and being really serious about it, wanting it to be like that forever. The gloriousness becomes tinged by craving and addiction. On the other hand, wretchedness--life's painful aspect--softens us up considerably. Knowing pain is a very important ingredient of being there for another person.