It is 6am on a cold snow covered northern Minnesota morning, this steaming mug of coffee and the total lack of noise are so delicious.

These moments, of peace and reflection, are all too rare though I am trying, really trying, to foster them on a more regular basis.

For too long I have hurtled through life at a breakneck pace, often called “accelerated”, running a race that I now know was never my own but one dictated by fear and the ever present lure of “more”, more money, more stuff, more debt, along the Möbius strip, a twisted trajectory without end.

I truly cannot remember the last time I simply sat and took stock, becoming aware of myself without reference to the tempest around me. I think I like this.

A short time ago I left a very lucrative career with a corporation, a career move that caused me to move from my homeland in Ireland, (after having moved back there a year before), back to the states,, money being a major factor in the decision. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

After leaving a company it doesn’t take long for the panic to set in, being without a job was something completely alien to me but slowly I came to realize just how much of my identity had been tied to how others viewed me in a position of substantial authority and just how ethereal and inconsequential that foundation was, more importantly, how far from myself I had travelled.

It is often said that life is the most vivid dream of all, an illusion that we believe in without question, one that we respond and adapt to based on situations and how we are perceived by others without introspect. Too often we play a role scripted by others while trying to meet expectations that were never really our own.

P. D. Ouspensky once stated, “The greatest barrier to consciousness is the belief that one is already conscious.” (Ouspensky: In Search of the Miraculous 2001). He just may have something there.