Each day I step into this work, I do so with a sense of gratitude and inspiration for the Garrison Institute community, whose wisdom and presence are among my most constant sources of inspiration. I learn endlessly from retreatants, partners, and teachers. Their stories, inquiries, and insights are woven into my own path. Many of these encounters stay with me—quiet teachings I carry and often share, long after the formal gathering ends.
Our co-founders shaped this place as a field of depth—a space rich with possibility, where interior work and social action are held as one. That legacy continues to nourish the work we do. I return to it often, like a well.
Recently, I’ve found myself drawn into practices that cultivate social mindfulness and the relational field we co-create. The writings of Karl Weick and Kathleen Sutcliffe on mindful organizing, and new research like Contemplative Practices in a Teamwork Setting by Chies et al., speak to a collective capacity to stay attuned, responsive, and kind in dynamic environments. I’ve recently learned about Mark Leonard’s work at the Oxford Mindfulness Centre, particularly his approach to collective contemplative processes.
On a more interior note, I’ve been reflecting on the teachings of Eihei Dogen, especially as explored through Uchiyama Roshi’s The Roots of Goodness, as featured in the New York Zen Center’s excellent 90-day Commit to Sit.
Other voices have been shaping my thinking in unexpected ways. Annaka Harris’s Lights On, a remarkable audio series, gently opens the door to a radical question: what if consciousness is not an emergent, but fundamental, property of the universe?
Kaira Jewel Lingo’s “We Must Have Courage” (Lion’s Roar) should be considered required reading, perhaps, for anyone navigating this complex, hurting, beautiful world.
I’m moved by the members of our Spirituality and Social Impact Map—a powerful, diverse network of contemplative practitioners bringing insight and compassion into systems in need of renewal. The advisors and co-creators of this project are profoundly alive to the moment we’re in. Their work is electric.
In all of this, I’m reminded: inspiration does not have to be a rarefied thing. It can be ambient. It is available when we attune. The Garrison Institute remains, for me, one of the most beautiful places to listen.
