Letting Go to Begin Again

It’s been anything but quiet, and not by accident.

A lot has changed. Some of it was planned—some of it arrived like a wave I couldn’t stop. And didn’t want to stop. I quit my job after 25 years. Sometimes I call it retirement, but at 56, I feel too young for that. I sold and gave away nearly everything, left the United States, and moved to Thailand. And most profoundly: I lost my dad—along with, once again, becoming estranged from my immediate family. That family part still echoes through me in ways I can’t fully articulate.

It’s a kind of storm where everything shifts—yet somehow, it still feels like I’m standing in the eye of it.

I’m writing this from a place I never expected to be, physically, spiritually, and emotionally. It’s been a mix of grief, discovery, and overwhelming change. The noise—the rush, the striving, the constant urgency of daily American life—is gone. But the questions, the loss, and the adjustments? They’re loud. And yet, in this new place with its slower rhythm, I’ve come to find that quiet and a slow life mean something different than I thought.

I’m learning to embrace something softer. Simple living. Slow rhythms. Letting time unfold on its own—rather than chasing it, watching my life race past.

Thailand doesn’t demand hustle. It doesn’t force you into endless motion. Life here moves slower, but my mind, my heart, haven’t quite caught up. There’s still a lot to reckon with—lessons to process, emotions to feel. I won’t pretend it’s easy. The grief of losing my dad and the betrayals within my family are still fresh. They follow me into this new chapter. But even so, I’m finding moments of clarity—brief, yes, but real—that remind me of the value of simplicity, and of space.

Life here feels less violent. More human. And I’m allowing myself more space—to breathe, to grieve, to reflect. I’m not chasing anything right now. I’m sitting with what is, and with what’s left in my life that I still want to experience. And it turns out, that’s more than enough.

This move wasn’t about escape. It was about returning—to myself, to life. It’s about clarity. Stripping away the unnecessary and returning to what truly matters. To stillness. To the feeling of being alive in my own skin, without needing to prove anything. Not to anyone.

twilight

I miss my family deeply. Or maybe it’s just that I miss the idea or concept of family that I never had. But this absence has made room for something unexpected: a kind of clarity. I can hear myself more clearly now. I want less drama, more connection. And I feel more.

This next chapter isn’t about reinvention. It’s about concentration—on what’s most essential. It’s about stripping away the excess, whether physical clutter, relational drama, emotional baggage, or old patterns of thought, until only the purest, most meaningful parts remain. Like a refinement of my own essence.

So if you’ve been wondering where I’ve been, or what I’ve been up to—that’s it. I’ve been learning to live with less. Less stuff. Less noise. Less pressure to be productive. And a whole lot more feeling. It’s messy. It’s complicated. But it’s real. And it’s revealing a smaller, slower, more honest life for myself.

I’m still figuring it out. Still learning. And I’m grateful for every moment.

If you’ve made it this far—thank you for walking with me.

 

findless

Uncertainty & Desire

I approach the one-year mark of retiring from a 25-year academic career and moving to Thailand. Life has brought me great experiences, some attempts at reprogramming of ‘merikkkhan life propaganda and integrating cultural differences. I can see some real beauty in Thai culture and society. As well as some of the dark side of life.

I have a lived a life full of purpose while following my dreams/goals. Many questions frequent my mind… Who am I now at this stage in life? What is a peaceful, simple and slow life? The idea of safety and security remains elusive.

There is a frustration I experience with the uncertainty of not knowing what to do with myself and the desire for wanting a peaceful simple life. I find myself getting caught between the longing for control and being present with the normal chaos of existence. The frustration comes from the clash of these two forces: I want something definite in a world that is inexplicable.

Uncertainty

Uncertainty is unsettling because it threatens the illusion of what we might consider “mastery”. After 56 years one would think we should have developed some mastery regarding how to live a good life. Sometimes I want to know what’s coming, to plot a path, and to prepare myself for any potential difficulty or pain.

But life doesn’t yield to my well thought out and well-made plans so easily. The future is foggy at best, and knowledge will always be incomplete. This breeds anxiety. The mind starts to churn: What if I am not safe? Will I fail? What if I choose wrong? Am I not good enough? The inability to pin down desired outcomes becomes maddening.

The Fire of Desire

The human nature for “desiring” intensifies the frustration. Desire is a fire that wants fuel—whether it’s for love, success, pleasure, security, or meaning. But what we desire is often elusive or fleeting. Even when fulfilled, desires shift, evolve, or reveal themselves to be less satisfying than hoped. This creates a loop of craving and disillusionment: If only I had this, I’d be at peace. But peace doesn’t arrive. Desire feels like a mirage, out of reach, while uncertainty keeps reshuffling the terrain.

Human desire is hard to satisfy. We crave pleasure so much that no matter how much we get, it never seems to be enough. We keep pushing our senses—eating more, watching more, scrolling more—until the things that once felt good barely affect us anymore. So, we chase even stronger pleasures, even louder distractions.

But our bodies can’t keep up. Eventually, they start to break down from the constant pressure. Still, the mind pushes forward. It’s always looking ahead, imagining happiness as something we’ll finally reach if we can just pack enough good experiences into our lives.

If Not Now, When?

The problem is, deep down, we know we don’t have forever. Trying to squeeze a lifetime of joy—maybe even eternity—into just a few short decades. And in doing so, we exhaust ourselves chasing a kind of happiness that may never come.

Yet, we chase the future and the happiness we all want life to bring. Chasing happiness is like chasing a shadow—the faster you run after it, the faster it slips away. That’s why so much of modern life feels rushed. People rarely slow down to enjoy what they already have. Instead, they’re always looking for more—more success, more money, more excitement.

In this way, happiness stops being something real and present. Instead, it becomes something distant and vague, made up of promises, dreams, and the hope that things will get better someday. We end up living for what might come, rather than appreciating what we have and what is.

The Myth of Safety

I never really understood the idea for the need of a “safe space”. Because of life’s uncertainty, there can be no safety or security. The dinosaurs were made extinct by an unpredictable asteroid. Millions of people were killed by the Spanish Flu. To willingly stand, face and even walk into the insecurities of the world, i.e. death, is the brave hero’s path. I would like to think, it’s the only way. But I still go around and around in the mind thinking I know something and understand, when mostly I do not. Maybe the circle is part of life?

One of the worst vicious circles is of a person with an addiction. Which I believe we all are in one way or another. Some addictions are to substances, food, drugs, while others are to ways of behaving and thinking. To stand bravely and willingly face the horrors of the world becomes a difficult thing to do. It’s much easier to keep the patterns and habits that soothe our thoughts of impermanence and lack of continuity regarding our perspectives on life.

The human species are creatures built to endure storms, yet we will crawl back to the warmth of habit and repetition even when we know it’s not something we want to do. The truth is: facing the raw chaos of life — all the never to be answered questions, the existential void, the constant tide of change — requires a discipline and courage many of us have never been taught to cultivate for ourselves.

Instead, we cuddle up to the habits and rituals that dull the sharp edges of life. Habits that take us out of the present moment to smooth over the jagged “now”. We drink, we scroll, we excessively consume, we pray, we buy, we pretend. Attempting to find pleasure, but out of fear. Because the unknown is terrifying, and addiction — whatever its form — is a lullaby. It sings, “You don’t have to feel this. You don’t have to change.”

It is easier to soothe the ache than to be present to the pains and listen to them. Easier to numb than to be present. But the cost of avoidance is a shallow life — divided, untested, untouched, unlived.

Comfort/Happiness is Impermanent

No amount of comfort or joy or happiness is permanent. No habit, no drug, no belief system, no amount of distraction can keep uncertainty and death from creeping in through the cracks of life. We live in a world where everything we love is impermanent, including our own identity — the “I” we clutch to so tightly — is no more solid than the fog.

There’s an old Chinese story of a man who came to a great sage and said, “I have no peace of mind. Please pacify my mind.”
The sage answered, “Bring out your mind before me, and I will pacify it.”
The man replied, “These many years I have sought my mind, but I cannot find it.”
“Then there,” said the sage, “it is pacified.”

This is the crux of it: we are terrified of what we cannot define, of what we cannot hold. Death, uncertainty, personal identity — these aren’t problems to be solved, but illusions to be seen through. When we stop trying to “find” our mind, stop trying to control the vast and unknowable river of life, something shifts. The need to numb recedes. The compulsion to soothe at all costs begins to loosen its grip.

Facing The Truth

Facing life unarmored means to wake up each day unsure and uncertain. To be exposed to (and welcome) all the perceived negative thoughts about ourselves and all the emotions of sadness, grief, and failure While at the same time being in awe of the life we are living. It means holding space for the unknown, the mystery of life and being ok with not having any of the answers. That is a terrifying, and at the same time, a sacred thing.

The real question is: is there enough bravery to pause the addictive lullabies, and sit in the silence that follows? Because only there, in the vulnerable quiet, does true freedom begin — not the kind we buy, inject, or chant into existence, but the kind that comes when we stop running, and simply let ourselves be present with what is.

 

 

Remembering Jay – First Yahrzeit

I sit here and write this at “The Much Room Cafe” in Chiang Mai, Thailand. I like to come here because it has wide open space outdoors with big trees and a waterfall. But today something is different. I am listening to the sound of singing cicadas. A circadian rhythm, if you will. Long periods of silences, and then a sudden emergence and buzzing of life. Similar to grief, just when you think its quiet, grief rises again filling the air with an inescapable presence.

My Experience of Grief

One might think that after so many years working as a hospice volunteer, I would have more of my sh!t together. With the ability to manage my emotions, and my life’s responsibilities when it comes to loss, death and grief.  But grief is messy and works on its own terms. And I know, and sometimes need a reminder, that no one truly has their “shit together” when dealing with deep loss such as the loss of a parent.

Even though my father died almost a year ago, the experience of grief over his death has not ended. I have learned over this time to live with the pain of his loss. Even in his absence, my relationship with him has continued to be a significant one. This first yahrzeit for my father will not mark the end of my grief, but will help contribute to a new relationship I have with my memories of him.

The Grief in Family Estrangements

I ask myself a lot… are my family estrangements normal? In both sides of my family, they seem to be more common than I want to admit. Maybe because nobody wants to talk about them openly. Or make the effort to resolve some of the differences.

Estrangement is a painful and sometimes even a necessary choice. Especially when the relationships are harmful, betraying or abusive. Maybe the fundamental differences of personal values have people growing/grown apart from each other.

Unlike the grief from the loss of my father, this grief is different. It is grief without closure. People are still alive, but the relationship is gone. Sometimes I feel shame and want to keep this a secret. Because people and societies deep and rich in family values pressure me to “fix it”.

Regardless how I may want to think this through. I do experience some relief. But I cannot deny there is also loneliness and hurt. Mourning the idea of family and the loss of my father.

Reconnect To Life

No one is prepared for the loss and the death of a parent. I remember the joys celebrating my father’s birthday and his encouragements for me to follow my dreams. Having encountered his death, I am different. In mourning over the last year and the feelings of loss and the grief, the process changed me. But, how?

One day, I called him and told him I was moving out of the country and to Thailand. A few days later he died unexpectedly. When I moved to Thailand, the tropics, I see a lot of butterflies. Something in my mind made me think of him when I saw one. And it continues to this day.

By seeing the butterfly and thinking of my father I wonder what is the message I need to hear… or want to hear? His quiet presence says he is still with me. Maybe I need to pay closer attention to life’s signs and sensations and be more present to the things that stir something deep inside of me. Transformation and change are part of life, including painful ones. That even though he is gone, beauty still finds its way to me.

Understanding all this and trying to have all the answers, is the “booby prize”, one of my teachers said. Maybe the butterfly isn’t about solving something but just feeling something. A reconnection to life. A fullness of presence. A reminder that he mattered, that he still does, that he still moves through my world in ways I can’t always explain.

The Stories of Remembering

First, I want to bring back a memory of my father that I want to remember and share. For years after I was divorced, I went through a period of time searching, learning and healing. This process brought me to workshops, seminars, retreat centers, and ashrams. My family became concerned about the quantity of time I was spending at a “retreat center”. They all communicated to me they felt I had joined a cult and was becoming brainwashed. Of course, I had to laugh and at the same time felt their concern.

My parents were separated or divorced at this time. I was visiting my father in Colorado and sitting with him at the table. We were talking about his concern about me and the cult I may have joined. I expressed genuine gratitude for his concern and wanted to explain some things to ease his mind.

As we sat there with me talking (you know I like to talk, right?), my father began to drift off to sleep at the table. My first reaction was to get upset. But I learned enough over this time… the “first thought wrong” concept works well here. I interrupted this first thought program and attempted to install another perspective.

My father, not much of a deep philosophical thinker or in touch with his inner emotions was trying very hard to be present and listen to me. Although this particular brain or emotional muscle of his was not exercised a lot in his life. During this conversation, what I was telling him was asking him to think and feel a little differently. Exercising the muscle he did not have a lot of experience with. 

I could feel his willingness to be present and learn about me. Even with his limited capacity. My frustration in the situation changed dramatically. I began to see him differently. He was trying very hard to stay with me, but didn’t have the life experience to relate to me. So, he began to drift off. During his drifting in and out, he did say something to me that I remember… “I am so proud of you, Maury”. I learned that being in relationship (with him) is more important than any negative thoughts or feelings I could possibly experience about someone.

A Small Request from My Heart

In Jewish tradition, the first yahrzeit marks the one-year anniversary of a loved one’s passing—a time to reflect, light a candle in their honor, and share memories to keep their essence alive. Remembering and speaking of those we’ve lost helps keep their presence alive in our hearts.

As I navigate life without my father, Jay Leavitt, I find comfort in keeping his spirit alive through the memories we all hold of him. If you knew him, if he touched your life in any way, I would love to hear your stories.

If you feel moved to share, please take a moment to write a memory—whether in the comments, on a blog, in an email, through a call, or even a video chat. However feels right for you. Your words, no matter how small, will mean the world to me.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for helping me honor my father’s memory and keep his spirit with us, even for just a moment. 💙

 

The Thing Is

to love life, to love it even

when you have no stomach for it

and everything you’ve held dear

crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,

your throat filled with the silt of it.

When grief sits with you, its tropical heat

thickening the air, heavy as water

more fit for gills than lungs;

when grief weights you like your own flesh

only more of it, an obesity of grief,

you think, How can a body withstand this?

Then you hold life like a face

between your palms, a plain face,

no charming smile, no violet eyes,

and you say, yes, I will take you

I will love you, again.

 by Ellen Bass, from Mules of Love

Divided No More – Part 2

I have written a couple of pieces about how I was living a split and divided life. This division within me started as a child inside a framework of generational expectations which I was unable to fulfill. Moved to societal expectations that liked to dictate gender roles. Into sexual norms that I was unable to fit into. Finally, into my career in academia where I grew out of what would be considered teaching norms.

My first exposure to this concept of “divided no more” was from Parker Palmer who wrote, “An Undivided Life: Seeking Wholeness in Ourselves, Our Work & Our World”. This is a great video where Parker talks about how as human beings we are born whole, integral, with no distinction between what’s going on inside of us and what’s going on outside

 

I was able to maintain these split identities. With varying degrees of success. Not really being a people pleaser in my life but, as a way of keeping the peace. For myself and for others.

25 Years In Academia

There was a point in my teaching career where I began to see the division between student/teacher more of a hindrance. The power struggle and hierarchy that separated the student teacher relationship because of the grading / performance evaluations that teachers needed to do to determine competency. I had very few experiences as a student where my teacher was genuinely interested in sharing of themselves in support of their students growth. Instead, the teacher stood in front of the class, keeper of the knowledge. Ready to impart the information when the time was appropriate. 

With student centered learning and competency-based education taking forefront, I knew it was my time to make the changes I wanted to. A-F grading scale became less important for me as a performance indicator. It wasn’t the best show of cooking technique that should get the highest grade. It was the preparation, focus and recovery from mistakes that dictate our performance and which deserved my grade of “A”. 

Anyone can learn to do anything they want on youtube. With the right determination and discipline, anything is possible. Teachers no longer hold the power and the information for students to learn. I began to give the power to learn cooking back to the students. Telling them the only thing that separates me from them is years of experience. I became a guide and mentor more than someone who felt responsible for my students perceived success. 

The academic system continues to hold teachers responsible for the success of their students. Which I did not agree with at all. Everyone learns at their own pace and some need more practice than others. I invited all my students to show up early and stay after class so they can get the practice they wanted. I encouraged my students to know for themselves how well they were doing in the class. That cooking and learning any trade took lots of practice. They needed to do their own self-evaluation as I guided them to know when they were being too hard on themselves or thinking they are performing better than they actually are. 

There were students who continued to think I was responsible for how well they performed sautéing a piece of chicken. When students didn’t perform well they blamed me, the recipe, the equipment, everything but looking at themselves. This was the big shift in my teaching. To remove much of the grsupport my students as a guide and mentor. Handing over the responsibility for their own discipline towards mastery back to them. 

The Family

complexgriefofestrangementJewish boys are supposed to become doctors or lawyers. Was the thing that was told to me as a child. That was something I heard many times from my grandmother. But I loved cooking and wanted to be a chef. Jewish boys do not work in the kitchen and become a chef. I was told I would never amount to anything for myself if this was the career path I would choose. The reality was that I was supported to study the subjects I wanted in higher education. Because it was the education that was important and not necessarily the career path that was chosen.

I realized this particular family dynamic around money and career was highly active in my  family. I am not aware of much of the dynamic on my father’s side of the family because there wasn’t much interaction with them. However, when my father got wind that I was being guilted into other forms of thinking or behaving, it was some of the only times in my life I saw him get angry.

My father encouraged me to follow my dream regardless of the obstacles that were placed in front of me. He was one of those quintessential starving artist types. Sometimes struggling to make a living and quitting jobs on a whim when they just weren’t a good fit for him. 

Gender Roles

masculine feminineI was born a male. I identify as a male. I mostly enjoy being a male too. But I do get tired of the stereotypes of what a “good man” is supposed to be. As men, we are supposed to have ambition, a drive for success, a good work ethic and develop mastery in our fields of choice. Be self-reliant. Have physical strength and mental toughness. Exhibit emotional control. And be a good provider to the family.

Traditional masculinity taught me to be stoic and emotionally detached. A more modern perspective encourages men to be more in touch with their emotions. Openly expressive to foster deeper connections. There is also a growing expectation for men to be emotionally present and responsive to their partners, not just sexually engaged. This new way of being for men also asks women to develop different relational skills to be in relationship with men. 

It was tiring of being stereotyped into playing the gender role I was born into. Being a man today isn’t about dominance and resilience. It’s about a balanced expression of power, care, wisdom and depth. A man isn’t just about fighting battles but knowing when to stand firm and knowing when to embrace vulnerability. It’s not about power “over”, but power “with”.

The gender roles continue to be shifting. Within professional business realms, intimate relationships and in sexuality. Women have become more autonomous which has shifted relational expectations. The rise of unrestricted gender roles in relationships means expectations are more collaborative rather than transactional. Although there are still cultures in the world where traditional gender roles are still the cultural norm.

Masculine Sexuality

sexualityCulture, society and religion have shaped the norms for masculine sexuality. The role of male sexuality in heterosexual relationships has shifted significantly due to the changes from social, cultural and psychological influences. It wasn’t long after I hit puberty that I realized I did not fit into what the culture was emphasizing about male sexuality.

As a young man I found a lot of my self-worth and identity in my sexual prowess and virility. In modern consumerist society where advertising and marketing are in our faces, men are prone to unrealistic body image and self-perception standards set by the media and online pornography. This encourages me to be more open to discussions around performance anxiety, erectile dysfunction, and body image. This is no different than what is happening for the female gender around similar issues.

The #MeToo movement is reshaping how men navigate sexual interactions based on whole-hearted consent. There is a stronger focus on ongoing, consensual sex and mutual pleasure.  I continue to learn to practice communicating my needs and listening to my partners’ needs in ways that were never talked about in the family or taught in schools.

The use of technology and the internet has drastically changed dating and sexual dynamics. It has made casual sex and hookups more accessible and shifting commitment philosophies. Monogamous relationships are no longer the only relationship style to choose from. Internet pornography never says “no” and can lead to unrealistic standards and values. Let’s be real… how many women like to have a man ejaculate on their face?

“Erotophobia” & Our Hidden Sexuality

My sexuality has been one of the biggest parts I compartmentalized due to my own fears and the many public facing roles I had for a quarter century. I have a long history of being a public figure as a culinary arts teacher and administrator at a government run college. I needed to project a certain image of my own sexuality in the public eye.  While at the same time I was living a very different reality in my private life.

As I was navigating the changes to my own relationship to my sexuality. I felt I needed to present a “respectable” sexual identity – heterosexual, monogamous, and family-oriented. I was afraid if I strayed from this image, I would lose my government teaching job. Even if I was doing nothing unethical. I truly believed I needed to exhibit a certain public morality and struggled with the fear of my private desires and activities being exposed. For many years I lived a divided and split identity.

This did not stop me from exploring my own sexuality and having my own adventures. In the back of my mind, I was always concerned about running into a student or colleague during my pursuits. If I was exposed, would someone publicly condemn me for certain behaviors of mine while I was engaging in them privately?

For about 15 years I was able to keep a split identity. Maurice, with a public profile as a culinary arts teacher (still up on the website as I publish this). At the same time keeping a separate identity as Isaiah, (will be a broken link soon) a sex worker and educator. Now that I am retired from my job, I no longer have to worry about it. This is the last of my “divided no more” lifestyle. As I write this I am no longer doing this edgy work and it no longer holds a charge inside myself. Maybe because I am just another middle aged guy going through his own mid-life process? 

Diversity is Unity – Unity is Diversity

How / why did humans make up the division and distinction between nature and humanity, between god and “man”? Many philosophical and religious traditions have supported certain dualistic views. Asserting that reality is fundamentally divided into two distinct and irreducible categories, such as God vs. Creation, Mind vs. Body, Good vs. Evil, among others. At the same time there many other philosophical teachings that support a non-dual way of existence. Revolving around the idea the supposed separation between self and reality, subject and object, is an illusion created by the mind, and therefore, there exists only one undivided reality. Whether non-duality or dualism is “true” depends on how each of us define truth and how we want to experience reality. That is the big unanswerable question. 

Non-duality excludes nothing; it contains both unity and diversity, one and many, identity and separation, god and man. Dualism makes the separation between individualism and collectivism, the body and mind, and man from nature. Dualism seems to exhibit to be true in our everyday experience as we see ourselves as separate from others and good and evil seem distinctly different. Many believe duality is just an illusion of the mind, and when you inquire deeply, you realize there is only one reality and we are all deeply connected. 

Japanese Buddhism expresses the concept of diversity / unity in the formula Byōdō (平等) Soku (即) Shabetsu (差別), and its reverse opposite of, Shabetsu Soku Byōdō—unity in (is) diversity and diversity in (is) unity. This reflects the idea that oneness does not deny multiplicity, and multiplicity does not deny oneness. This aligns with concepts like: Form is emptiness, emptiness is form, (from the Heart Sutra), and the idea of dependent origination, where all things arise in relation to each other.

This concept beautifully expresses the paradoxical (divisional) relationship between unity and diversity. Byōdō (平等) means “equality”—the idea that all beings are fundamentally the same, often in the sense of Buddhist teachings on emptiness and universal Buddha-nature. Shabetsu (差別) means “distinction”—the recognition that individuals have unique characteristics, roles, and differences. Soku (即) means “is” or “precisely”—indicating that equality and distinction are not separate but interdependent.

This phrase represents and suggests that true unity does not erase or create a division between our individual differences. Rather, real harmony comes from acknowledging both our sameness and our uniqueness simultaneously. It resonates with collectivism in that individuals exist within the whole, yet it also respects individuality. For this reason, philosophically, morally, and spiritually, Buddhism is called the Middle Way. It’s not about the division between dual or non-dual. It’s become the union between them both. 

Find and embrace the unity in our diversity… and honor and respect the diversity in our equality. 


Life is one, said the Buddha, and the Middle Way to the end of suffering in all its forms is that which leads to the end of the illusion of separation, which enables man to see, as a fact, as clear as sunlight, that all mankind, and all other forms in manifestation are one unit, the infinitely variable appearances of an indivisible Whole.
– Christmas Humphreys

 

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