Dear One,
After seven months on Substack, 55 posts -that’s almost twice a week- and enough meditation hours to shame an epicurean monk, I’ve received a notice from the universe:
I’ve been fired.
Reason? I didn’t meet my quarterly quotas. Targets missed. KPIs in the red. In short: I created an unsustainable situation for the company (that company is me).
The numbers tell the story: 325 subscribers and about $416 per month in revenue (and three times more in expenses). Monthly more than the yearly income of the average Nepali (a humbling reminder), but not exactly what you’d call sustainable for a day job in Los Angeles.
I will not call this a failure. Nothing is a failure. I will call it a redirection — one that comes with a lot of pressure, a couple of ego bruises and some clarity.
The clarity: I’ve spent months reading what others in the spirituality category are writing, and the result is I can’t read another spiritual post without feeling nauseous, let alone write more of it. To do so feels like I’m adding to an already fast spreading plague of spiritual noise. Obvious, you’d say, when every second cousin with an Instagram account is a ‘life coach,’ maybe it’s time to leave the party.
I did investigate the source of the discomfort, though.
First realization: no one asked me to do this. I was self-appointed. And we all know what unsolicited advice feels like.
Second: life is an adventure. Which means I can invite people into it, but it makes no sense to tell them how it ends. The fumbling along is a big part of the process.
Third: the best thing I can say about life is that it’s better when laughing. Which implies that maybe the highest form of spiritual teaching is jokes.
I recently watched Stardust Memories, and Woody Allen ambushed me with this one:
“If you want to do mankind a real service, tell funnier jokes.”
Looking back there were warnings. I never wanted the name teacher, guide (I never wanted to be called Guru anyway. At times I accepted Kanguru — but in hindsight that was probably a premonition) and “coach” was a compromise: the most neutral word I could find. So yes, the teacher disappeared. Or at least, the serious teacher in me has.
I thought of this line you must have heard too: “When the student is ready, the teacher appears”, I don’t know who we owe this to (some say it was Buddha but I can’t confirm as he declined the interview), but today I’m convinced it was mistranslated. The original must have been:
“When the student is ready, the teacher disappears.” 😉
The Universe is well connected (or maybe it was Google), as I immediately got a couple of recruiters texting me for other positions: "Cosmic Joke Executive Officer”, “Resident Fool” or even “Ministry of Holy Madness”. All these posts had one thing in common: they are unpaid, more like a hobby or a side hustle if desperate.
From this day forward, I will replace the labels “coach,” “spiritual teacher,” and all similar names in my bio with “Entertainer” or even “Explorer of possibilities”. And I will be looking for a new job. No worries, I’ll keep writing — although the style may change…
In fact, I’ve been thinking of a new title for this publication, something like “Wake Up Laughing!” Please let me know if you have a more hilarious idea.
In any case, if life is already perfect —spoiler alert: it is— then there’s nothing left to improve. The best we can do is laugh at the absurdity of trying.
Thank you for accompanying me through this professional euthanasia.
Stay tuned for the rebirth.
Meanwhile, let’s remember: each of us has one lifetime of beauty, absurdity, heartbreak, delight, and mystery. Let’s use it well. Let’s use it laughing.
Yours absurdly,
Gabriel
If you want to support my work:
Subscribe — or even better, become a paid subscriber. Once I reach 100 paid subscribers (I’m already halfway there!), Substack will add a tag that could help me gain more visibility.
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PS: “Change Your Story, Change The World” is a storytelling endeavor that looks deeply into the psyche that creates the stories we live by—with the intention to help us shape better stories, both personally and collectively.
Because the stories we tell are the reality we live.