Reality is the Teacher and Initiation is Everywhere
For the past 15 years, I’ve lived by a simple yet meaningful mantra: Reality is the Teacher.
One day, I was meditating on my porch, feeling lost in my life. In my meditation, I actually said out loud: “Where is the -capital T- Teacher? You know the one I mean…” I had been reading spiritual books for a decade at that point and many of them seemed to strongly imply that we need to eventually find the Guru. The Master. The Guide who Knows The Way. I wanted my fucking Gandalf.
At that moment, a breeze blew across my face, subtle yet noticeable, stirring something in me. A quiet realization took shape—if God is in everything, then everything is the Teacher. And in the next instant, I had one of those rare epiphanies—if God is in everything, then everything is the Teacher. Reality itself is the perfect canvas for lessons and teachings to unfold. In that realization, I saw how wisdom has always been embedded in the fabric of our experiences, waiting for us to recognize it.
This concept is not new. Pema Chödrön revitalizes the teachings of Shantideva from the 8th century within Tibetan Buddhism when she speaks about leaning into reality as if it were our precious teacher:
“If we learn to open our hearts, anyone, including the people who drive us crazy, can be our teacher.”
“…feelings like disappointment, embarrassment, irritation, resentment, anger, jealousy, and fear, instead of being bad news, are actually very clear moments that teach us where it is that we’re holding back. They teach us to perk up and lean in when we feel we’d rather collapse and back away. They’re like messengers that show us, with terrifying clarity, exactly where we’re stuck. This very moment is the perfect teacher, and, lucky for us, it’s with us wherever we are.”
Pema introduced a phrase that encapsulates this perspective: Thank you, Precious Teacher. When I first heard this, it struck me as both profound and deeply challenging. Could I really look at hardship, frustration, and even heartbreak as teachers rather than obstacles? The more I practiced it, the more I saw how shifting my mindset in this way opened doors to unexpected wisdom and resilience. She offers it as something to say in those harsh moments that feel so far removed from what we think we want.
Car Crash? Thank You Precious Teacher.
Stock market crash? Thank you, Precious Teacher.
Huge fight with my wife? Thank you, Precious Teacher. Trump is elected? Thank you, Precious Teacher.
At times, this mindset might sound almost narcissistic—like I’m implying the world was orchestrated for my personal growth. That is likely untrue although I did love that movie The Truman Show. It might also seem to suggest that life is some kind of scripted video game or that we each have a meticulously designed lesson plan. Whether or not any of this is true isn’t the point. The value of this practice lies in the mindset itself and the value one can obtain from this perspective. The point is to extract lessons from the worst things that happen—because adopting a victim mentality teaches us nothing. Believing you’ve been fucked over is never going to be a path to wisdom.
Furthermore, if you believe in the soul, it’s worth examining whether you do believe that there are assigned lessons—or if the soul’s journey is more fluid and open-ended. Do lessons exist as part of a structured plan, or are they simply the meaning we extract from experience? If one is true, wouldn’t some kind of outline of our path exist? What are psychics and Akashic Records readers picking up on? In my bones, whether we have free will or not, I believe there is some kind of a plan. One of my favorite philosopher’s and rational mystics Charles Eisenstein once said to me:
“There is God’s plan, and there’s your plan. God’s plan is the one that’s happening.”
Lately, I’ve found myself guiding clients through what they perceive as a world unraveling. And honestly? It’s been overwhelming. So many people I work with are navigating upheaval—personal crises, radical shifts, transformations they didn’t see coming. The phrase that keeps coming out of my mouth, as much for me as for them: Initiation is Everywhere.
Consider the classic rites of passage from different cultures: Aboriginal children embarking on walkabout into the Australian Outback. Dagara Tribe initiates undergoing extraordinary physical and spiritual challenges, like meditating under the sun while being bitten by ants. Native American Vision Quests, testing endurance through fasting and solitude. Masai boys proving their bravery by hunting lions after a period of isolation. Ethiopian Hamar men leaping over bulls multiple times, naked, to mark their passage into manhood.
Imagine being a child stepping into these initiations—the fear, the pain, the unknown, the stretching of capacity. And yet, in all these examples, those who endure the challenge return transformed. They are seen as adults. They are bigger than they once were.
When I view a troubling world through the archetypal lens of initiation, I feel far less fear. In fact, I notice my blood move, my spine straighten, and I am filled with glorious purpose. Like a sparring partner testing my skill, or the precious friction that sharpens my blade, the challenges ahead—no matter how daunting—are for us rather than against us.
As Marcus Aurelius once said:
“The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.”
In the end, reality is both the obstacle and the training ground—the ever-present Teacher, responding in ways we may not expect, but always guiding us forward. Whether we see its trials as burdens or initiations determines whether we resist or rise. And perhaps the greatest lesson of all is this: What stands in the way was always the way.