I have a rating system when eating food. It isn’t intentional at all. But it happens every single time. And Garrett can immediately tell how much I like something.
If I eat it and say, “It’s good,” then clearly I don’t like it, but I would never be rude. If I say, “It’s really good,” then I probably feel like someone brought me here and has a vested in me liking it, but I really don’t. If I start analyzing it picking apart how the flavors dance together, then I like it. And you can always tell the extent to which I like it by just how much analysis goes in.
But, if I close my eyes and don’t speak at all, it means I don’t just like it. Because I can’t even access the intellect to think about it in that moment. I just have to be with the food. And it’s soul-awakening. It’s transcendent.
I was reminded of this last night. Garrett and I had to go to a meeting in advance of our trip to Israel (in a few weeks!). And, as the meeting got out at 8pm, Garrett convinced me to go out to eat in that neighborhood. Normally, it’s a fight to get me to a restaurant on a weeknight—especially one that’s a bit fancier. It’s not that I don’t love the food or think it’s worth every penny; it just doesn’t feel necessary too often.
Nevertheless, we ended up somewhere Garrett had been before and I hadn’t. And, needless to say, it shocked me. Shocking. Like an electric bolt through my entire being. It was awakening in ways that I can’t quite articulate. But I’m still buzzing today. I can feel its surge.
Food has always been an access point to Divinity for me. It’s one of those shortcuts that immediately helps me experience essence. And I feel more alive when I eat bold, complex flavors put together by a confident chef. There’s nothing I love more than being surprised by what I eat. If flavors come together in shockingly unexpected ways, then you have a fan in me for life.
For some people, vivid descriptions in books do that. For others, it might be music. For others, paintings or sculptures or architecture. (And, don’t get me wrong, all of those things can—and do—jolt me from time to time.) But these access points allow us to experience something so deeply moving that we can’t help but feel this world is bigger than that which we see with the naked eye.
As much as I love to intellectualize—well, everything—I love these sensory access points to Divinity because they transcend all other things and become direct communion. You don’t just know about it; you know it. Because you can feel it. Because it awakens every cell in your body.
Like a stunning sunset. Or looking into your loved one’s eyes. Or feeling the touch of soft fabric. Or biting into a shocking dish. It brings you into a moment of communion, a moment of art, that you can’t turn back from.
It’s why I’m so grateful for Garrett for so many things—but one of my favorites is that he has a passion for cooking in this soul-awakening way. And I don’t have to just go out to restaurants to eat shocking food. Garrett cooks it most nights.
It’s why I love having beautiful artwork, especially my favorite red painting that hangs behind me on every video call I’m on. Three years later, I’m still shocked by it. Every time I see it.
It’s why I fall deeper in love with the work that we do every single day. How I sat and witnessed one of the most profound transformations in the Mastermind yesterday and just sat there. Shocked. Body jolted. More alive than I was before. Or how I sit and watch conversation unfold in the Circle. Awareness and epiphanies. Powerful people working through hard shit. And I’m shocked. I’m jolted. I’m alive.
I’m so blown away by so many things in this world. By so much beautiful, so much Divinity, flowing through every single moment. And, for a person who loves to unpack and intellectualize it all, I especially love those moments where I can’t possibly analyze. I just have to be. I just have to experience. Communing directly. Not through thought. But through presence.
I’ve found long ago that a live well-lived—one that feels like an artistic expression of my soul—is one in which layers upon layers of awakening fill my every day. Where Garrett continuously shocks me with his kindness, generosity, and caring. Where my work continuously shocks me with its deepening layers and unfolding. Where the people I have the honor of working with continuously shock me with their bold and courageous transformations. Where the art, the food, the friends all shock me.
A life that shocking is a life that’s alive. At least for me. That’s how I’ve awakened. And how I access the Divine directly.
What are some of your access points? What are things that you experience, and—bam—you immediately experience Divinity?