First, it is important to explain how I came about reading this book. In my Class “Personal Adjustment” which focuses on the psychology of personal growth, a student asked if I had read “The Stranger” when we were discussing “Man’s Search for Meaning.” I hadn’t, and replied as such. She asked if she lent it to me would I read it. In my typically short but honest manner, I replied I wouldn’t: I had no time currently for enjoyment reading, and had a stack of books I was anxious to get to once I did. Furthermore, I don’t read fiction. On the day of the final exam for this class, she handed me the book.

Since the semester is over and I found myself with some free time, I opened and began reading. I was almost immediately immersed in the book. It is a very short book, and I finished it, reading it casually, in about three sittings. I was astounded at its poignancy. The book is eloquently written. Despite the sparsity of its length, it delves into topics of life’s meaning, death, and how each of us (as beautifully illustrated through the wording of the characters) creates the meaning we take from events.

I would actually enjoy discussing this book, interpretations of the main character, and its meaning with others. The book will be a highly recommended read by me for anyone interested in existential thought.

I purchased this book while perusing a Borders that was going out of business, and strictly because of the title. As a therapist and a practitioner of Eastern philosophy I am aware of how although we believe we have the freedom of choice, quite often our choices are made out of our conditioning. I fully expected this book to reaffirm that thinking, and to discuss how to overcome it. The book met and surpassed this expectation.

Some books create a peace in me by just catching a glimpse of them. This is the case of this book. From the time of my purchase it served as a meditation bell. It reminded me of how important it is to be meditative in every aspect of my life, not just in sitting. Another book that had led to this feeling in me was “Being Peace” by Thich Nhat Hanh.

I read the majority of this book on the beach, as at the time my schedule permitted mornings at the beach before starting my day. I devoured the beginning chapters of the book, highlighting several long parts. The books chapters are short, which is a factor I love in books. This allows for short readings and reflection, if one is so inclined. I would read a short chapter to three, and let it resonate for a day or two before reading again. From the beginning I knew I would need to read this book more than once (which is uncommon for me to want to do).

As I progressed though the book my enthusiasm waned. The book discusses how even spiritual practice “can become chains that bind us to repetitive patterns”. Although I have been aware of this since the beginning of my reading of Buddhist material, I still find it discouraging to read how many levels one has to pass through to attain a true sense of enlightenment. Its not that I don’t believe these statements, I do. Even if I didn’t believe them, my disbelief would likely originate from my desire to have enlightenment come quickly and easily like my culture demands. But hearing the message of how far you have to go can be difficult at times.

I do not want any discouragement I may have felt to detract from the worthiness of this book. The book beautifully describes the path to enlightenment through the beliefs of Tibetan Buddhism. It describes how ones own sense of accomplishment in their practice is a hindrance to enlightenment. It discusses how to work with negative emotions, and the trap that many fall into of trying to escape feeling by attaining enlightenment.

I definitely recommend the book to anyone interested in a path of enlightenment. The truth can often be discouraging, but it is necessary nonetheless.

I finished “Island” by Aldous Huxley last night. It is a novel about a utopian society, lost (at least temporarily) to the roar of capitalism and consumerism, that a cynical, shame ridden English protagonist finds himself shipwrecked on. The story follows his introduction to this society, his education about it, and his perceptions while he works both sides of the beginning of a conflict about to come to fruition.

I suppose at this point I have to modify my general statement that I don’t read fiction, to I read fiction about philosophy or therapy or spirituality about 20% of my reading time (I notice in the last two years I’ve read at least three fictional books: Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, The Schopenhauer Cure, and Island). Although generally I don’t like fiction, there is of course redeeming qualities in some of it. This book is certainly one that might assist the reader in seeking some sort of enlightenment.

At times I found the book verbose, although Huxley certainly uses colorful and beautiful language to paint a picture for the reader. As someone who is more interested in the meaning than the scenery, however, there were times I wanted the book to move faster, and found myself wanting to skim over his robust language to get to the meat of the story. It is true though, perhaps, in literature the prose is the meat.

So it is safe to say then that I found the book well written. The plot of the book is also excellent, as a utopian society is threatened by a nearby leaders desire for consumerism, to make their countries much like others who have given into the temptation. The story follows the protagonist’s curiosity to understand the working of this society, possibly to discredit them as naïve and further his cynicism about the human race.

The book portrays many of the inhabitants of this island as enlightened, or at least working toward it. As such some of the book focuses on his reading of their text, as well as his discussions with others on how they came to have the perceptions of life they do. It is my understanding Huxley believed in the use of hallucinogens to expand one’s consciousness, and this book purports their use. In fact it is part of a young person’s right of passage, as it is in some other indigenous cultures.

When I mentioned this book to a client, I was informed that Huxley is fond of the utopian society versus consumerism theme. I have never read “Brave New World” (should I reiterate I barely read fiction?) but I understand the theme is similar.

Overall I found the book to be an interesting read in regard to sociology and personal psychology regarding overcoming demons and becoming enlightened. (The book does not claim hallucinogens alone lead to enlightenment, and offers many more profound suggestions having to do with Buddhism that will lead the seeker to that end). The prose is extraordinary, and I was drawn into the characters. This, at times, led to wishing the book would move faster toward the resolution of conflicts. Regardless of the slight drawbacks, a very good read.

A very close friend sent this book to me after we had some discourse regarding our perceptions and opinions of happiness. The title is more telling than you might think, as the book takes an encompassing view of what has been written about happiness through the ages.

The book is very well written in philosophical prose. For those uninitiated in true philosophical writing, this book might seem droll or overly complicated. Philosophical writing begins with the definition of what is being discussed, and works at laying the argument out in a precise fashion. The end of one paragraph lays the groundwork for the next, and the chapters follow suit. The book is written the way one is taught to write in advanced English classes. As I said, this provides for a very well written book.

The book provides a great deal of historical thinking about happiness, from familiar authors (Freud, William James) to intellectuals I had little familiarity with (to save embarrassment I will not mention them here, but I would imagine many readers will encounter some names they are less than familiar with).

The book is well written and provides a great deal of historical context about what intellectuals have said about happiness in one rather short volume (less than 200 pages not including notes), but is it a good read? Will it help one find happiness? These questions are more difficult to answer.

As it to former question, if you are interested in how some of the leading thinkers on happiness have viewed its pursuit, it is a brilliant read. Sissela Bok does an excellent job of illuminating the disagreement in philosophies between authors such as Freud and Bertrand Russell. The author also does an excellent job of exploring differences in philosophy; the moral life is compared to the hedonistic, both with their leading authors’ argument of how their philosophy is the only path to true happiness.

In regard to the latter question, will it help one find happiness, that wasn’t the point of the book. I would venture to say the author rather wants the individual to fully understand the many conflicting roads to happiness, and not blindly follow generic suggestions that stem from a polarized version of one of the philosophies discussed. Then the reader can decide which philosophy best fits their inclination. After this understanding the reader can set out to find his or her own path to happiness.

Overall I am glad I read the book, and grateful to my friend for sending it. I began my own book on happiness some time ago, but it has been shelved for other more pressing projects. I will undoubtedly use the book in my formal writing should I return to it. But whether formally writing a book on happiness, simply composing short articles about happiness for Psychology Today, or working with clients, much of what I consider my life’s work surrounds happiness. To that end this book is a worthy addition.

Image from Amazon.com

Let me begin by saying this book is for therapists interested in applying Buddhist principles to therapy. For the casual Buddhist it offers some explanation of Buddhist terms and thought, but for that purpose other books would be better suited. For the therapist simply interested in new techniques there is some food for thought, but generally the book challenges Western ideas of psychotherapy.

With that introduction, I’d be surprised if many are still reading this review.

It took me a good while to finish the book. This was partly due to my schedule teaching five courses, but was also a result of finding the text a bit boring at times and avoiding it. Despite the occasional difficulty motivating myself to get through the book, it offered a very different perspective on therapy.

The book focuses on the Buddhist tenet of selflessness as it builds its case for the Zen approach to therapy. The book provides many thoughtful gems, and in fact I have quoted it and will continue to on my “Thoughts For…” piece. There is a great deal of wisdom and practicality in the text. In some instances the book made me rethink some of my own therapeutic approaches. I have been much more mindful to not always challenge clients who appear to put themselves last, or even second. The book demonstrates that there can be good in this.

“Zen Therapy” also does a good job of reinforcing the benefits of Rogerian therapy, which it appears to consider the West’s best thought on the subject of psychotherapy. Even so, the book effectively challenges this theory despite noting its merit. Zen Therapy also focuses on the therapist’s responsibility to practice what she / he preaches, and advocates a strong foundation of peace and serenity.

Overall I found the book to be helpful in both introducing some new thought to therapy and challenging some long held ethnocentric beliefs about what is best for people. The book provides a great deal of wisdom, but, as with many texts, at times fails to engage the reader; even the attempts to do so with stories seems a bit bland. My final verdict is to read it if you want to apply Buddhist teachings in your therapy practice. If you are more interested in your own path for Zen, go with something lighter.

Recently I was recommended a movie called TiMER in light of the book I am working on with a peer. The premise is that in some alternative universe of now, people are able to buy timers which are mounted in their wrists and count down to when you will meet your soulmate. The story follows a family consisting of stepsisters and their half brother, as well as his parents (one daughter’s mother and the other daughter’s father). They all have timers, and the movie follows their feelings and behavior about their “timers.”

As a beginning to a general review of the movie, there are no big stars evident. There is some typical stereotyped roles, like the “nice” sister (searching for her soulmate and rebuffing anyone not possibly fitting that criteria, and she is blonde), the “bad” sister (sleeping around and messing with the elderly at the nursing home she is employed at, and a brunette) an overbearing mother, and an angst ridden teen.

The acting is adequate, but there aren’t any award winning performances here. The story (or the theory behind it) is what makes the movie worth watching. At the beginning of the film (which seems to chronicle the beginning of the TiMER phenomenon) a newscaster asks “If a clock could count down to the exact moment you meet your soulmate, would you want to know?” This is an excellent question, and I’m very open to hearing your opinions in the comment section.

There are several things to keep in mind when considering your answer to this question. One is the TiMER’s tagline: “A soulmate with a guarantee”. If you know who your soulmate is, there isn’t any doubt (your timers beep when you make eye contact after the countdown). This will supposedly do away with the need for divorce, or at least significantly reduce it. There are several aspects on the downside of the TiMER however. What if your soulmate won’t come into your life until very late in your life? What do you do? What if you fall in love with someone other than your soulmate? And the TiMER only works if your soulmate also has one. Otherwise it is blank until they get one. These ideas are explored in the movie.

In the results of my colleague’s and my survey thus far, about 75% of those answering the survey report believing in a soulmate. This movie seems to suggest that at least the market it is geared to believe in soulmates as partners (the usual market for movies of this type are 18 to 30 year age group). With such an overwhelming belief in soulmates, I’m not sure why this movie didn’t do better (I couldn’t even rent it until I got Netflix). I think if you have Netfix and have an hour and twenty minutes or so, its worth a watch to see the above questions played out and to stimulate thought.

From "The Hidden Messages of Water"

At the insistence of a client (and her lending me the video) I watched “What the Bleep Do We Know” tonight (now last night). It marries the theories of quantum physics with neurobiology and spirituality as well as some psychology. The movie contains interviews with scientists in various areas with some animation and cinematography as well as dramatic scenes starring Marlee Matlin. The theme of this movie is our interconnectedness and the unknown reality that lies underneath the reality we perceive. In addition to these themes is the importance of the messages we send ourselves and the part they play in the creation of our own reality.
Personally I was amazed at the reflection in this film of so much of the reading I have done over the course of the last 20 years. It is easy to see “The Secret” (although I never read it I do understand its premise and have read so much similar themed books), Eckart Tolle, “The Tao of Physics” by Capra, Buddhism, even some of the minimal reading of I have done of Kabbalah.

One book / research study that was mentioned in the movie is “The Hidden Messages in Water”. When I read this book a few years ago I was amazed at the experiments demonstrating the power of words / thoughts on how water crystalized. Like much of what I read of our amazing power, I eventually diminished its meaning, wondering why it isn’t replicated. I still can’t find any evidence it was, which is disheartening. There is so much psychological truth in the film, and a good part of me still believes the water study is legitimate. Beyond that, to have so many great scientific minds discussing similar themes is well worth a viewing. Be forewarned, however, this isn’t a movie you watch while doing other things; to grasp it you need to pay attention, which is no easy task. It is nearly 3 hours long and in the film they mention human attention lasts about 6-10 seconds (and my ex thought I had adult ADHD!)

During the break between Spring Semester and Summer B, while I wasn’t teaching for the first time in years, I read the book “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.” It’s actually a strange story how I came to read it.
Most of my readers know I rarely read fiction. But this book was a long time in coming. I have been into Zen, to various degrees, for more than 20 years. When I was relative neonate to Zen, having only read one or two books, people would always ask “Have you read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance?” I would always answer “no” of course. Then the next time I was in a book store I’d pick it up and read a little: a little in the beginning, then a little in the middle, as I do with any book I might be interested in. Without fail the several times I did this I returned “Zen…” back to the shelf. I had relatively no interest. Recently I’ve done this with “The Power of Now” at least as many times (and I still have little interest. People’s encouragement gets me to pick it up, but I have inevitably returned it to the shelf). When I picked up this book “Zen…”, it just never grabbed me.
So right before I’m about to leave for Puerto Rico my girlfriend and I are in Borders where she hopes to purchase a book for the trip. While browsing the discount section, I run across a hard copy edition of “Zen…” for $7.99. How can anyone pass up a hard cover edition of a classic for that price? I couldn’t, hence I finally read it.
First I’d like to say that “Zen…” is much more a work of literature than any type of instruction on Zen. In fact, unless you are already into Zen and if it weren’t in the title, you probably wouldn’t notice it had a Zen attitude at all. It seems to be much more about philosophy in relation to the Greeks (Plato, Socrates, Aristotle) than to Eastern philosophy.
The book, without giving too much away, focuses on an extended road trip on a motorcycle between a father and his minor son. There is also a great deal about a guy from the narrator’s past who was a college professor teaching English, and in particular, rhetorical response. There are other characters that vary from lasting half the book or who are purely peripheral. The story vacillates between the motorcycle trip, the remembrance of this professor, and some theories of logic and philosophy. There is some very deep thinking in the book, and it certainly went over my head from time to time (that might not be as difficult as you think). Although I struggled with some of the philosophical and logic discussion at times, it did not deter me from the story, and all in all, I did not feel it detracted from this being a great modern work of literature.
I have been discussing an idea for a book with a peer who tells a written story in a much better fashion than I. I believe this book inspired me further to try to tell the story, as this was very well written and often riveted me to the tale. As someone who doesn’t read much fiction I am leery of making strong statements about it. But this book seems like an excellent read to me, and as it has sold millions and millions of copies all over the world for over 30 years, I do not believe I am taking much of a leap. But I caution my reader that they are reading a story, and they shouldn’t expect too much in guidance toward Zen, or current motorcycle maintenance for that matter.
As an aside, if you decide to read the book, which seems to be based on some actual events in the author’s life, I suggest you also read the afterward. It is sad but very real.

I took my 16 year old out for his birthday (his actual birthday was a while ago, but with our schedules it was tough to schedule a full night alone with him before now). After dinner and some shopping, we discussed seeing a movie. He wanted to see “Get Him to the Greek.” I had read some pretty poor reviews, but had no problem seeing it. The reviews indicated the movie tried to do too much. They felt it aspired to be a comedy in the “Hangover” style but also tried to squeeze in weightier issues like a substance abuse problem and parent issues.
I had recently read another article interviewing Russell Brand who reprises his role from “Forgetting Sara Marshall” as a rock star for the plot of this movie (I still don’t know why I am receiving Rolling Stone magazine). The article discusses Brand’s real-life struggles with substance dependence (including heroin) and with sex addiction and bulimia. I liked the article, and I relate to Brand’s approach to life now. He talks about keeping his addictive personality at bay by attending 12 step meetings, working out, keeping busy, meditating, and writing (two autobiographies) as well as currently filming a documentary on happiness. I related to both the article and the film in the personality portrayed, and perhaps that led me to liking the film more.
I thought the film did a good job of portraying the life of an addict as well as a film can and remain a comedy. There are times the film (and an addict’s life) is all fun and laughs. But at some point the movie indicates that drugs are a serious issue for the main character. This is evidenced by Aldous Snow (Brand’s character) explaining to Aaron Green (Jonah Hill’s character) the importance of drugs. The explanation, which of course I cannot remember exactly and research failed to produce, went something like this:
Your life must be full of a laundry list of worries and things to consider. Where is your life going? Is this person the one to be with? So on and so forth. But my life has one concern. Do you know what the one word is? Drugs. My life is simple.
Although perhaps a slight exaggeration of the drug dependent person’s life, it does often seem that way. Drugs become the most important thing, often the only thing that really matters. Of course there are other concerns, but they are secondary to the drug and getting high. This is often felt by those around the active addict, even if the addict can’t recognize it themselves.
Another aspect of the film I thought was accurate was the self-centered nature of the substance user. Aldous Snow manipulates Aaron to get what he wants. This is more than evident in the film, and although it can be chocked up to his being a spoiled rock star and being used to being spoiled, it is often also true of those with substance issues.
During the course of the film Aldous also begins to confront some of the issues that underlie his addiction. He addresses issues with his parents, broken dreams, and rationalizations for his behavior of a too intelligent man. The issue that seems core to many with addictions is a tremendous loneliness that he can’t seem to satiate. The idea of self-medication is also mentioned, as Aldous hasn’t experienced real emotion in some time. There are even some of drawbacks of addiction recovery in the film, such as when a person is too honest about previous wrongs to free their own guilt, without consideration of the injured party.
Overall I feel the film was a good one. It has some genuinely funny moments, some funny dialogue, and it addresses to a small extent what it is like when someone is in an addiction. It seemed obvious to me with my knowledge of addiction and recovery that the film makers had some experience with the topic. In the interview Brand admits the director and writer took stories from his life. It seems to me there is more than that. Perhaps Brand’s personal experience propels the story onto the screen making it more true to addiction. Or perhaps other than just stories Brand talked with them about his personal feelings and thoughts in regard to addiction and addiction recovery. Whatever accounts for the true aspects of addiction in the film, they are there and in my opinion it adds to the film’s depth rather than detracting from its attempts at humor. After all, isn’t life made up of comedy and tragedy?

I initially picked up this book because the back cover presented it as a theory that explained how we create God and spiritual realms to combat our fear of death. As an existential therapist I found this intriguing. In this regard the book did not disappoint.
The book begins with a brief summary of evolution (what argument that did not denounce the existence of a supreme being would be complete without some sort of recognition of evolution?) I found this short (in relation to the amount of years it took for it to occur) history an adequate review, but a bit lengthy. I suppose I assume that any person willing to read a book of this title would already have a basic knowledge of evolution. Besides, I was anxious for his argument to start.
The substantial section of the book utilizes brain science and anthropology to explain the author’s argument for their being; you know its coming, the part of the brain that leads us to believe in spiritual reality. His argument is very well laid out. In fact, I found it too much so at times. In philosophical and scientific argument there is sometimes overkill. The same point is made and reiterated, then built upon, then reiterated and built upon some more. This can grow tiring for the casual reader. However, on the upside of this, it does demonstrate the continuity of his argument and often reiteration precedes learning.
His argument is excellent and, if one is so inclined, would easily provide much ammunition to the atheist reader who wants to have a solid argument for their point. I believe his argument is also persuasive enough that a true agnostic (someone who feels there is not enough evidence to prove, and at the same time cannot disprove the existence of a God) may also be swayed. There are some weaknesses in some of his arguments, especially at the end of the book, where he discusses the usefulness of his theory. This brings me to my final thoughts and concerns.
I imagine this book will have little effect on anyone who is religious. This might be a biased opinion, but evolution has had little impact, and a faith in the unknown is much stronger in some than what science can show. My concern would be for those who are somewhat spiritual or religious, but who might be swayed. If someone bought into his theory, and gave up whatever religious or spiritual beliefs they may have had, they may feel a void that the book is not able to fill. This is despite the few short chapters which were spent focusing more on proving the downside of religion than the upside of facing the reality of death.
As a professor I often confront my class (in appropriate classes) with existential theory and the fact they will eventually cease to exist. Often this is met with accusations of being morbid, sadistic, or simply mean. The point is not to depress people, but to help them see the impermanence of existence, so they are able to more fully embrace their life. But the fear of death is strong. In fact, this is part of the author’s argument. I believe at times it is so strong those uninitiated with the reality of death (in most religions there is a continuation of the individual’s personality in some form, helping to deny the reality of death) might find life meaningless, rather than more meaningful. The author attempts to combat this with some insightful words, but I’m unsure if it is enough.
In conclusion I recommend this book to everyone, despite some of my misgivings. I have always believed knowledge is power, and to borrow a quote the author also borrows from Lao Tzu: Knowledge of others is intelligence; knowledge of self is wisdom. Mastery of others is strength; mastery of self is power.