Letting The Hero Die

A fine balance. This reflects (generally) the concept of "Letting Go..." Interestingly, this has been a guiding principle for my since I was young. The drawing that goes with this reading was immediately recognizable, spoke to my heart and - awakened a long ago hurt. I grew in a tough Brooklyn neighborhood. I was - an introspective, introvert, reading kind of young person. And yet, I knew I had to try to make friends. At about age 12 a group of kids I thought were friends showed up at my brownstone one summer evening - accusing me of something I didn't do. I was devastated, scared and hurt - very badly. The next day - I had no "friends" - they all shunned me and for a while I was scared to even go outside to play with my siblings. I learned a lot about the hero's journey that summer. I learned - I am alone. I learned - trust no one. I learned - God is guide. I also - interestingly learned more and more - to BE KIND, FORGIVE and seek the side of PEACE. Four decades later - I have had wonderful friendship - all ended abruptly - I've never know what I did or didn't do. I've had good and not healthy intimate relationship - including marriage - which ended - not happily - but I've moved on. And a long the way I've learned to LOVE - in spite of the hurt other people and inflict. I am still an introvert, introspective and love reading. It's a lonely life sometimes - mostly when I take time to reflect "I am alone" - that is when I am the hero of my story/journey. Otherwise I recognize "I am blessed. I am healthy. I am helpful." The caution to balance - I've discovered to check in with myself that I do not become - cold, angry and unforgiving of "this experience called life" - I live and love in peace. Hide full comment

Letting The Hero Die authored by Paul Weinfield reminds me of two great persons who has played a very significant role in shaping my life: Rabindranth Tagore, a great poet who was awarded a notable prize for his book Gitanajali and Mahatma Gandhi who by the power of Truth and Nonviolence liberated India from the British rule over India. Both listened to their inner voice and walked alone. Their life's journey created freedom from The British rule of India. Their life journey helped me to know the truth that shines from within and follow that truth. When we liberate ourselves from the strong hold of ignorance, hatred and arrogance, we attain liberation from within. In summary, we learn to let the inner light of truth and courage shine to lead us on the wise and right path. What helps me continue to walk on the path less traveled is by keeping my mind and heart open to receive blessings coming from all directions. I invite you to walk together for light and liberation. Namaste! Jagdish Hide full comment

I am a child of the Work—raised in the rhythm of Quaker silence, formed by the lineage of the Gurdjieff teachings, and deeply attuned to the laws of Three and Seven. These are not abstract principles to me; they are the living architecture of how I move, teach, love, and listen. They have guided me through decades of embodied inquiry, spiritual practice, and relational prototyping. In the 1980s, I was a wilderness-based adventure trainer working with corporate executives navigating high-stress events like hostile takeovers. My role was to bring them into the rawness of nature and the rigor of self-inquiry. But the rupture came, not in the workplace, but on a day off—windsurfing. My sail went down, I moved to right my board, and I subluxated my right hip. That injury ended my career in that form. What followed was not just physical rehabilitation—it was a total reweaving. I returned to my spiritual roots, and I walked (and re-walked) the long path of healing through several surgeries. I literally had to learn to walk again—twice. But beneath the surface of the physical work, something more subtle and profound was unfolding. I began to compost the myths of independence, of productivity, of perfection. My heart broke open. And in that brokenness, conscious love emerged. Later in life, I made peace with not becoming a mother in the biological sense. What opened instead was a deeper return to the embodiment practices rooted in preverbal, esoteric traditions—practices resonant across cultures and continents, from Indigenous ways of knowing to mystic streams within Sufism, Daoism, yoga, and the Gurdjieff Work. These traditions offered not a singular doctrine, but a vibrational field of remembrance—a way of inhabiting the body as portal, compass, and co-conspirator with life. One of the fruits of this journey was being commissioned to co-create Yoga Radicals: A Curated Set of Practices and Reflections for Moving from “Me” to “We.” That work called me to bridge decades of somatic knowledge, spiritual lineage, and relational intelligence into a practical offering for these times. Now, in this ripened chapter of life, I live from a place of conscious composting—honoring what must fall away, tending what wants to bloom, and gathering with others to share the harvest of this “now.” I no longer believe in heroes or gurus. What I trust is the rhythm of the cosmic heart—a vast, generous intelligence that pulses through all of us, blessing our species even in our fumbling. This is the Work now: To compost with awareness. To prototype in community. To practice love as a field, not a performance. Hide full comment