In fact we think we need to know because the more we know, the righter we are. Too often our need to be right rules us. But grasping at what we think we know, in order to prove ourselves right isn’t knowing at all. Thinking you know and discovering you know are two very different things.

Artists are actually in the business of not knowing. Only when we suspend our need to know are we capable of discovering. Without discovery, there is nothing new to express. Without discovery, you miss all the ah-ha moments. Without discovery, there is no art.

Andy Warhol, icon of the Pop Art movement discovered a new way to look at our culture through his silkscreens of Campbell’s Soup cans as well as his diptych of Marilyn Monroe. He is likely the first artist to express what he saw as our proclivity toward what would soon become an obsession with brands and celebrity.

Twyla Tharp, who famously choreographed ;;Little Deuce Coupe” by The Beach Boys for the Joffrey Ballet created the first ;;crossover ballet”-a mix of ballet modern dance, and pop music. No one had seen dancers move like that before.

John Cage, one of the most influential composers of the twentieth century and a leading figure in the postwar avant­ garde movement-turned music on its ear when he pioneered electroacoustic music and nonstandard use of musical instruments. He was known to have said, ;;I can’t understand why people are frightened by new ideas. I’m frightened of the old ones.”

These artists broke form. They intended to discover and express new things. In fact this is what artists sign up for: advancing civilization by seeking new forms, new ideas, new possibilities. To do so, an artist must embrace the discomfort of not knowing.

Letting Go of Our #1 Obsession: Knowing

Not knowing is inherently terrifying. It feels like you might die. The idea that one would seek out that state of mind for any reason feels counterintuitive. Because of the discomfort, we tend to latch on to early conclusions just to escape the lost feeling of not knowing. Letting go of knowing is like letting go of an addiction—difficult, but immensely liberating.

When an artist decides to open up, trust, and suspend what they know—in order to explore what they don’t—they discover new choices. When a person embraces this journey, they discover possibilities they never dreamed of before.

I tell my students “Don’t be in such a rush to know! Once you think you know, you’re done learning. Once you think you know, there is no more discovery. Ask yourselves what else could it be? And again—what else? Keep asking until something arrives in you that makes your heart beat faster.”

Once you file something away under “Oh, I know that,” a space closes—you stop looking. You pass by a tree you’ve passed by every day for the last year, and you don’t even see her. You don’t see her summon the breeze to lift her leaves and wave hello. You don’t see her changing color every day or the family of sparrows she’s housing at the very top of her branches. You don’t see her dispatch one perfect leaf your way—a gift she has presented just for you.

All that space available to open between you and that magnificent tree is left closed when you walk by without seeing her—thinking about all the stuff you know!

When we allow ourselves to conform mindlessly to someone else’s dogma, we fall asleep in the matrix of an agreed-upon reality—rather than discovering what is true for ourselves by honoring our own inner perceptions.

When you know that you know, you feel it.

The question becomes: how do we encourage these feelings of intuition, instinct, awareness, impulse, insight, and clairvoyance. How do we cultivate that certainty of knowing?

The answer is: we quiet the mind, breathe into our hearts and listen. It is in stillness that we discover the vastness of who we are beyond our obsessive thinking. It is in stillness that we experience ourselves as a presence who knows.

When we release the mental chatter and mindfully enter the present moment, we enter a space where the soul can speak.

Thinking and Being—Finding Balance

I came to meditation late in life and I thought I was terrible at it. I had a very busy mind. I loved thinking. My entire self-esteem was wrapped up in how clever I thought my mind was.

When I first started, I would sit on my cushion, maybe light a candle, maybe listen to some Gregorian chants. I’d close my eyes, focus on my breath and I was lucky if I could score mere seconds without a thought. This situation went on for years.

Sometimes, I’d be lost in thought for I don’t know how long. And then I’d wake up, realize I’d strayed from my original intention and refocus on my breath.

After a while, I began to crave that blissful communion with air. I realized that every time I returned from thought to breath, I was flexing a muscle. I was being mindful of when I was thinking, how much I was thinking, what I was thinking, and I was mindfully refocusing my attention in the present.

Still yourself, breathe into your heart and be here. That’s it. That’s the start of a practice. Before long, you become aware of your thinking throughout the day. Before long, you enjoy bringing yourself to the present moment in one blessed breath. Being here, observing, discovering—before long, you begin to restore balance.

Meditation creates space between YOU and your thinking and in that gap you are free to know nothing and discover everything!

Beginning a Practice

Find a special place in your home. A quiet space where you can be alone. You may want to include a pillow to sit on. A candle. Maybe a crystal, flower, stone, or shell. Make it simple, and make it your own.

Begin by committing to meditate ten minutes a day for the next month.

Whether you are sitting on the floor, in a chair, or cross-legged on your bed—sit upright and relax your shoulders back and down. Send your tail bone toward earth—and the crown of your head toward the sky. Create space by gently moving them apart. You will feel this in your solar plexus.

Close your eyes, and breathe into your heart.

Inhale: I breathe in stillness.

Exhale: I breathe out that which I no longer need.

Repeat for ten minutes.

When thoughts come up, note “thinking” and go back to your breath. There is no wrong way to meditate. Every time you turn your attention from thinking back to your breath, you are being mindful. Like flexing a muscle, you are strengthening your ability to bring the best of yourself to the present at will.

In the present moment, there’s no need to know. In the present moment we observe and discover for ourselves. This is how we learn who we are. Nothing could be more valuable.

A goal must be something you can see yourself achieving. If you can imagine yourself living in the final picture you can build a bridge out of actions that will get you from here to there.

The quality of the goal is everything! Is the goal ;;I want to be liked and admired” that will lead you to behave in certain ways? Or is your goal ;;I want to become the best possible version of myself’, which will engage your focus in a very different way, and at the same time, more than likely, get you liked and admired?

If you want to become the best possible version of yourself, you will make a list of what you’ll need to achieve that goal. In that process you’ll discover what’s really important to you.

I believe contribution is the most valuable goal of all. The question then becomes, ;;Does this goal/ choice/ ambition/ action contribute in some way? Does it contribute to my art? My lifer My health? My loved ones? My community? My planet?”

When we make our choices in this way we gain confidence in our direction. We feel more authentic, more awake, more engaged. We rise to the challenges of our own intentions. We begin to set impactful goals, which lead to more constructive choices, courageous actions, and expansive journeys.

Once you set a worthy goal and are taking the actions that will get your there, your job is to stay the course, cultivate a positive attitude, keep taking steps, and-most importantly-move forward exactly as if you have already achieved the goal!

When you operate as if you’ve already achieved your goal and do the things you’d do if you’d already succeeded-the Universe will respond in kind.

Many of us live in a perpetual state of “I want.” When we continuously want something, instead of attracting the object of our desire, the Universe will bring us everything we need to help us want it more. This works in ways both little and large. In other words, don’t pray for peace—it reflects the lack of it. Instead, be the peace you wish for in the world. Practice imagining peace, rather than mourning its absence.

It’s a simple but profound shift in our point of view:

• I don’t want to be an actor. I am an actor because every day, I do the things actors do.
• I don’t want to be a writer. I am a writer because I write every day.
• I don’t want to be an organ grinder. I am an organ grinder because I grind the organ every chance I get. Plus, I bought a monkey and named him Marcel.

Once you know what your goal is and you are doing the activities of that aspiration daily, give yourself permission to BE your goal. The Universe will respond in kind.

Every journey begins with a single step. Commit to walking the road every day, and the journey has begun. Believe in walking the road every day, and you become the road.

We are each on our own journey, whether or not we consciously contribute to the direction of its flow. Wherever we are in life, we have arrived there by our thoughts and actions. As such, we are in exactly the right place to learn our next lesson.

Sometimes, we make the leap, learn the lesson, and change. Sometimes, there’s more to learn, more to accept, and more to understand before we can move forward. Either way, there is always a lesson. There is always the opportunity to learn, grow, awaken, and expand—that’s why we’re here.

Spirit, God, muse, angels, guides, entities—these words and concepts can turn people off. Some people will bristle just reading this. It’s as if these concepts have been hijacked by religious authorities and can’t be trusted anymore.

Awakening the spirit within is different. It is a deeply personal, one-on-one matter. This vital conversation between you and YOU should be kept private and protected from other people’s opinion, interpretation, invalidation, or alteration.

When I’m teaching actors, I refer to this energy exchange as impulse or intuition because I realize the concept of spirit-inspired art can be uncomfortable for some.

But I challenge any artist to look at the four o’clock light streaming through a grove of redwoods, listen to the sound of water cascading over rocks, get drunk on the cherry blossoms in Central Park, eat a perfect peach, or dance under the northern lights on an island in Maine—I challenge them to inhale the wonder of nature and not feel uplifted by the spirit that is life.

It is this same feeling of awe that inspires all artists to express themselves in their own unique way.

When we take the time to observe and be affected by the power of nature, something moves in us. Something exciting. Something familiar. Like the best of us—like home.

Artists live to create. They will tell you creating is their greatest joy. They will talk about the elation they experience when realizing an inspired work of art. It is the same euphoria we feel when we find ourselves overcome with gratitude, loving another with all our heart, or even wide awake in the present moment.

It’s all the same source. The very thing that unites us all. And when we seek out that sense of enthusiasm, it becomes possible to take charge and curate our lives from a more artful perspective.

To connect to this power within is to feel whole—in one deep breath, to realize we are complete. To connect to the spirit within is to realize you have, have always had, and will always have indisputable inner guidance.

There is a sleeping giant available to anyone who wishes to co-create with their higher self—either an acting role, a painting, or the life of their dreams. Getting to know the spirit within is the most personal things we do. To connect to this creative force is to never feel lonely again.

Here’s a fun way to feel at one with something greater than yourself. Stretch out on your bed, close your eyes, and consider this:

You are lying on a bed

In a room

In a city

On a planet

Which is spinning around at 1,000 miles per hour

While flying around the sun at 66,000 miles per hour

As our solar system circles the Milky Way at 450,000 miles per hour

And you are but one of more than seven billion human souls speeding through the cosmos

While seven other planets—also spinning, also revolving around the sun

Create exactly the right amount of gravity to keep the Earth in a stable orbit

And you snug in your bed

There we are! All of us whirling through the galaxy at an unimaginable speed—in perfect balance. Once you wake up to that, you’ve made a great start in appreciating the vastness of the spirit within. You’ve found wonder in what just a moment ago seemed ordinary and mundane.

Just as a benevolent force keeps the planets spinning in perfect order, the very same force keeps us on track as well. The moment you realize you can tune into that force is the moment you understand: YOU are that force, and you’re designed to create a life you desire by listening to your heart.

Coming to this understanding is like opening a long-lost letter from your higher self. Coming into this power is our destiny.

Because of the hamlet’s proximity to Manhattan, an abundance of world-class artists made Snedens Landing their home. The presence of these trailblazing creatives dates back to the late 19th century when female sculptor Mary Lawrence and her Italian French husband, fellow sculptor Francois Tonetti, settled in The Landing and served as a magnet for the scores of artists who followed for decades to come.

I remember these legends of the Landing gathered around our dining table, talking about their process and relationship to art.

Consequentially, I spent my formative years studying a broad array of artists. Artists of all kinds. Artists at the top of their game. When they were into their work, they seemed lit from within filled with joy and purpose. When they talked about a project, they led with enthusiasm.

As long as they were involved in the creative process, they seemed happier and more authentic than in their evervdav selves.

Over vears of observing. I developed a strong suspicion that an artist’s best work didn’t come from their head. In fact, it wasn’t intellectual at all.

An artist’s best work seemed to come from their heart vibrating in unison with some higher, larger force. And with this unity came a passion, a sense of purpose, an enthusiasm for life, and a devotion to seek out more of the same.

I’ve spent my life’s work dedicated to understanding that force. I’ll be talking more about this in upcoming blog posts.