Tag Archives: spirituality

The Sacred Bond Between Dogs and Humans

Yesterday, I had to make a very difficult decision in letting go of my beloved Dalmatian, Klara, who has been a faithful companion through the seasons of my life for over fourteen and a half years. Her gentle presence, unwavering loyalty, and unconditional love have been a constant reminder of the sacred bond that exists between dogs and their humans.

Dogs are spiritual beings. Their devotion and ability to love without condition form a bridge between the seen and the unseen, assisting us on our soul’s journey in ways we often only begin to understand when they are gone.

Every dog owner who has shared a deep bond with their four-legged friend will tell you that dogs can sense our emotions long before we consciously recognize them ourselves. They seem to perceive energy fields and emotional undercurrents that go beyond human understanding.

The Science Behind Emotional Connection

Interestingly, modern science is beginning to confirm what dog lovers have always known in their hearts. There’s now solid scientific evidence that dogs can detect and respond to human emotions through scent.

Studies using physiological measures — such as cortisol levels, heart rate, and fMRI brain scans — reveal that dogs can literally smell our emotional states. These scent cues influence their own behavior and even their stress responses.

  • A 2018 study published in Animal Cognition exposed dogs to sweat samples from humans who had watched either a scary or a neutral video. Dogs who sniffed “fear sweat” showed higher heart rates, sought comfort from their owners, and avoided strangers.
  • A 2022 study at Queen’s University Belfast trained dogs to distinguish between stress-related sweat and breath samples versus neutral ones. Astonishingly, the dogs identified the “stress” samples correctly 94% of the time after just a few trials.

These findings show that dogs can detect emotions such as fear, anxiety, sadness, and happiness through subtle chemical shifts tied to hormones like cortisol and adrenaline. They use this information to adjust their behavior — offering comfort, staying close, or becoming cautious — depending on what we’re feeling.

Dogs as Mirrors of Our Inner World

Beyond their empathy, dogs often mirror aspects of our own nature that invite us to grow.

  • A dog that shows exceptional love may be teaching us to open our hearts more fully.
  • A stubborn dog might be reminding us to loosen our own rigidity.
  • A loyal dog teaches us the deep beauty of steadfastness.

When I had a Rhodesian Ridgeback, it taught me the power of focus and presence. If my mind wandered during our walks, my dog would sense it immediately, pulling in all directions or breaking free to chase a rabbit. The lesson was clear: stay present.

Dogs even reflect us in surprising physical ways. Some adopt the walking gait of their owners — and there are remarkable stories of dogs developing a limp to mirror an injured owner, even walking on three legs in solidarity.

Timeless Companionship

When I was a teenager, I had a fox terrier named Stompie who would wait by the gate each day precisely at the moment I returned from school. Decades later, Klara — who lost her hearing two years ago — would still be waiting on the terrace just minutes before my arrival, somehow sensing I was on my way home. That intuitive bond transcends logic; it belongs to the language of love and connection that dogs seem to speak fluently.

The Neurology of Love

Recent studies show that the dog–owner relationship activates brain regions similar to those seen in the infant–mother bond. In dogs, the reward center of the brain responds more strongly to their owner’s voice than to that of a familiar person. More attached dogs show even greater neural activity when hearing their owner’s praise — evidence that the emotional connection runs deep on both sides.

At Harvard University, researchers are now studying how social bonds between children and their pet dogs develop over time — exploring whether these relationships can help reduce stress for both child and dog alike. The answers may help us better understand what many of us already know intuitively: love shared with a dog is healing, grounding, and transformative.

Klara’s passing has left a void in my home and in my heart but also a profound gratitude for the years we shared. Her spirit, like so many beloved companions before her, reminds me that love never truly leaves. It simply changes form, waiting patiently for us, just as our dogs always have.

Reino Gevers – Host of the LivingToBe podcast

P.S.: If you enjoyed this article, you might be interested in my latest book, Sages, Saints, and Sinners. Get it today on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and wherever good books are sold.

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Filed under mental health, mental-health, psychology, purpose, Uncategorized

When a Society Loses its Mind

“It is not famine, not earthquakes, not microbes, not cancer, but man himself who is man’s greatest danger to man, for the simple reason that there is no adequate protection against psychic epidemics, which are infinitely more devastating than the worst of natural catastrophes.”
— Carl Gustav Jung, “The Undiscovered Self” (1957)

There’s a virus spreading faster than any we’ve seen before. It doesn’t attack the body, but the mind.
It’s called collective insanity, where whole groups of people begin to share the same irrational beliefs, emotions, and behaviors, drifting further and further from reality.

This kind of madness takes hold when critical thinking collapses and a free press is silenced or controlled. When truth becomes inconvenient, emotion and ideology take over. Falsehoods repeated often enough start to sound like truth, and soon, everyone is echoing the same slogans without stopping to ask, “Does this make sense?”

Collective insanity usually begins in times of deep economic and social uncertainty. The world feels unstable and frightening. During social unrest, war, economic turmoil, or disease, people crave certainty. They long for simple answers to complex problems, and for someone who promises to make everything right again.

That’s when a charismatic leader often appears, offering clear, emotionally charged explanations that seem to restore order. Dictators like Hitler, Mao, and Mussolini understood this perfectly. They demanded total obedience, convincing millions to surrender personal freedom, conscience, and judgment.

Strong emotions like anger, hate, and retribution spread quickly, almost like an infection of the soul.
We “catch” emotions from one another through something psychologists call emotional contagion. The more a narrative is repeated, the more real it begins to feel.

In authoritarian systems or cult-like movements, people learn to silence their doubts. To question is to risk punishment or exclusion, and so they conform. In time, they begin to believe the very lies they once only pretended to accept. (Experiments have shown this again and again, most famously by Solomon Asch, who proved that people will deny what they see if everyone around them disagrees.)

Collective insanity thrives where access to truth is restricted. It becomes especially dangerous when a small handful of billionaires control the flow of information or when social media algorithms feed us only what confirms our existing beliefs. These echo chambers create entire worlds of illusion, each reinforcing its own version of “truth.”

And once a society defines an enemy — witches, heretics, another race, or “the corrupt elite” — violence begins to feel justified, even noble. We see this pattern today in the growing attacks on politicians, judges, and journalists who dare to hold opposing views. The moral compass spins wildly when truth and empathy are lost.

The Way Out

History shows us that collective insanity inevitably ends, but often only after great suffering and when the truth finally comes out. The cult leader is exposed when there is no longer any denying of his sexual abuse. There is no longer any denying the authoritarian leader’s corruption, inept leadership and personal enrichment.
In Germany, the delusion collapsed when the war was lost, millions of lives had been lost, and the truth could no longer be denied. Putin’s Russia is possibly facing a similar scenario.
In South Africa, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission forced the nation to face the horrors of apartheid, allowing confession, grief, and healing to begin.

The path back to sanity always begins with truth-telling and with courage.
It takes brave souls, compassionate communities, and civic action groups to speak truth, even when it’s unpopular or dangerous. It takes emotional honesty and the willingness to face the grief, guilt, and fear without turning away.

When this is done collectively, something powerful happens. Healing begins.
We rediscover our shared humanity. Sanity and peace begin in the heart of each person who chooses truth, faith, and courage over fear.

Reino Gevers – Host of the LivingToBe podcast

P.S.: If you enjoyed this article, you might be interested in my latest book, Sages, Saints, and Sinners. Get it today on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and wherever good books are sold.

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The COVID-19 Legacy: Social Fragmentation and Healing

Two years ago, the World Health Organization (WHO) declared that the COVID-19 pandemic was no longer a public health emergency. Yet its psychological and social aftershocks continue to ripple through societies, fragmenting communities once gripped by fear and fueling political extremism.

Several studies have now confirmed what many suspected: the pandemic and ensuing lockdowns had a profound impact on mental health worldwide. For the first time in history, scientists were able to observe the effects of collective fear on a truly global scale.

The Emotional Toll

While experiences varied across regions and communities, several broad patterns emerged:

  • Prolonged uncertainty, isolation, and fear led to widespread anxiety, depression, and burnout.
  • Eroding trust became a defining feature, as people grew confused and skeptical toward governments, media, and even science amid rapidly shifting information.
  • Collective grief settled over the world, a mourning not only for lost lives, but also for lost time, normalcy, and connection.

Shifting Social Landscapes

Communities fractured along new fault lines with differing views on vaccines, lockdowns, and mask mandates dividing families, friends, and neighbors.
Technology became both a lifeline and a liability: it kept people connected yet deepened isolation, fatigue, and exposure to misinformation and conspiracy theories.

The Mind–Body Connection

Emotional stress is one of the most significant threats to both mental and physical health. Neuroscience and medical research have long shown that chronic activation of the body’s stress response can harm nearly every system, especially the immune and cardiovascular systems.

  • The Whitehall Studies in the U.K. found that chronic job stress increases the risk of heart disease.
  • The Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) Study revealed that early-life emotional trauma elevates the risk of chronic illness in adulthood.

The link between mind and body is undeniable—but so too is our capacity for resilience.

Cultivating Resilience

Research shows that stress resilience or the ability to recover from emotional adversity can buffer these effects. Protective factors include:

  • Strong social connections
  • Spiritual or faith practices
  • Mindfulness and meditation
  • Regular exercise and restorative sleep
  • A deep sense of purpose or meaning

A Shared Awakening

The pandemic also ignited a global period of reflection on mortality, interdependence, and renewal. Many rediscovered spirituality, nature, and the quiet power of mindfulness. For perhaps the first time in modern memory, humanity was united by a shared awareness of its own fragility.

A Creative Rebirth

For me personally, the lockdown became a period of unexpected inspiration. It was during this time that I began writing my novel Sages, Saints and Sinners. In my research, I discovered haunting parallels between our modern experience and the Black Death of medieval times, echoing the same fear, isolation, and uncertainty, followed ultimately by rebirth.

Reino Gevers – Host of the LivingToBe podcast

P.S.: If you enjoyed this article, you might be interested in my latest book, Sages, Saints, and Sinners. Get it today on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and wherever good books are sold.

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The Death of Truth in the Age of Outrage

In the early days of my journalism career, truth was sacred. Senior editors drilled into us one golden rule: get your facts straight. Every story passed through three rigorous gateways before it ever saw the light of day. And still, errors slipped through. But at least we tried. Accuracy was our north star.

Fast forward to today, and the landscape looks unrecognizable. In this noisy digital wilderness, truth no longer leads the conversation, struggling to be heard at all. The media ecosystem is thick with half-truths, deception, and outright hate. It’s as if honesty has been shoved into the backseat while outrage grabs the wheel.

Outrage sells more than sex

There was a time when the media industry lived by the motto “sex sells.” Not anymore. The new currency is outrage. Social media giants have learned that anger drives engagement, and engagement drives profit. So, the algorithms are tuned to reward the most divisive, shocking, and hate-fueled content. The more we rage, the more we stay online, and the more the profit margin rises.

And the result? We see it all around us. Acts of kindness, respect, and compassion are drowned out by cruelty and contempt. Civil disagreement has been replaced by digital warfare. When hate becomes the loudest voice in the room, it doesn’t just poison our feeds. It poisons the mind. It reshapes how we think, speak, and treat one another, leaving empathy gasping for breath.

I’ve often pondered how individuals can fabricate and obscure with such unwavering conviction that one might almost be inclined to believe them. It dawned on me that evil isn’t merely a religious concept but a stark reality, inhabited by individuals devoid of all moral compass, whose behavior lies far beyond what society deems ethical or humane.

In the murky waters of social media, these purveyors of malicious messaging are easy to spot if we care to look more closely. They lack empathy and have no qualms about causing harm or suffering. They are masters of manipulation, twisting language and gaslighting their audiences until truth itself becomes unrecognizable. They crave control, using pressure, humiliation, and intimidation to assert dominance.

Externally, they often appear charismatic. They draw people in, earning trust while quietly advancing their own self-serving agendas. We see this pattern time and again, especially among political demagogues and religious cult leaders.

And here’s the uncomfortable truth: if you haven’t confronted your own inner darkness, your fear, anger, shame, and resentment, you are easy prey. These manipulators will tell you that your pain is someone else’s fault: the fault of those who look different, think differently, or believe differently. Once that narrative takes hold, it’s only a short step to blind allegiance, and then to violence.

Blind obedience is the enemy of truth. That’s why authoritarians always seek to destroy a free press — through lawsuits, legislation, imprisonment, torture, and finally murder, as we see in today’s Russia. Subservience and blind allegiance are the death knell of progress.

A free media and a free mind demand curiosity, nuance, and the courage to look between the lines. Authoritarianism thrives on division, drawing sharp lines between “us” and “them,” demanding loyalty to one story, one truth, one voice. But when we surrender our capacity for critical thought, we surrender reality itself. We live not in truth but in illusion.

In diverse societies like South Africa, the United States, Israel, or India, this danger is magnified. Each tribe, religion, or political party clings to its own version of truth, incapable of hearing another’s. From there, it becomes frighteningly easy to dehumanize the “other” — to see them as enemy, not neighbor. And from that poisoned soil, violence grows.

In Kabbalistic thought, this distortion is known as sheker — falsehood. It narrows our vision until reality itself bends and fractures. Truth, emet, by contrast, is expansive. It invites balance, curiosity, and humility. To tell the truth is not merely to report facts — it is to resist illusion and to participate in the divine work of sustaining and healing the world.

Because emet, truth, is eternal. Even when forgotten or ignored, it does not vanish. The truths we speak — the words we write, the stories we tell — become sparks of light woven into creation itself. Speaking truth is sacred labor. It matters, even when no one listens, even when the world seems to have moved on.

One of our most radical acts is to keep telling the truth, steadily, humbly, and with love. To quote the great 13th-century Mystic Meister Eckhart:

Truth is something so noble that if God could turn aside from it, I could keep the truth and let God go.”

Reino Gevers – Host of the LivingToBe podcast

P.S.: If you enjoyed this article, you might be interested in my latest book, Sages, Saints, and Sinners. Get it today on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and wherever good books are sold.

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Finding Meaning in a Nihilistic World

Nihilism is the despair that comes when all higher meaning collapses and life is reduced to emptiness

  – Sören Kierkegaard­ –

The world sometimes feels as if it is unraveling before our eyes. Truth is no longer truth, values are mocked, and meaning itself is up for debate. Kierkegaard warned of this kind of despair and the disease that spreads when a higher purpose is abandoned. In this hollow space, populist narratives rush in, manipulating with outrage, stripping away nuance, and discarding the responsibility for a common humanity.

University of Virginia sociologist James Davison Hunter warns that a new common culture is emerging that is chillingly nihilistic. He defines this culture with the drive to destroy, observing how fear, demonization, and rigid divisions dominate political life, leaving many unable or unwilling to negotiate, compromise, or even recognize shared humanity.

“A nihilistic culture is defined by the drive to destroy, by the will to power. And that definition now describes the American nation,” Hunter writes.

Hunter points out that a politicized identity “is formed and sustained by way of negation. Its emergence as well as its persistence depend on an active and hostile enemy. What naturally follows is rage, hatred, and a thirst for “a capable and wide revenge” that, in a twisted way, becomes a source of meaning—a raison d’être—for those who see themselves as victims.”

In the same vein, Noam Chomsky emphasizes that meaning in life is built through lived experience and collective responsibility. Acts that reduce suffering, preserve dignity, or advance freedom create meaning in a world that can otherwise feel void. For Chomsky, moral clarity stems from recognizing our shared humanity and universal ethical standards, while moral responsibility entails choosing to act on them. Nihilism, despair, or relativism, in his view, are excuses that allow people to avoid this work.

He has also criticized postmodernism for being obscure, relativistic, and politically disengaged—warning that societies risk moral collapse if they lose sight of truth and responsibility.

Modern life compounds these challenges. Constant information, endless obligations, and persistent anxieties can erode spirit and energy. The solution isn’t hustling harder; it’s pausing, reflecting, and breathing deeply. It’s grounding yourself in love and acceptance, trusting that you are guided and protected by reconnecting with your spiritual self.

Recently, the words of American monk and author Brother David Steindl-Rast came to mind. He doesn’t argue against nihilism like philosophers do; he simply invites us to notice this: “It is not joy that makes us grateful; it is gratitude that makes us joyful.” Gratitude, he reminds us, doesn’t depend on joy—it creates it.

In his book Gratefulness: The Heart of Prayer, Steindl-Rast describes gratefulness as “the inner gesture of giving meaning to our life by receiving life as a gift.” It begins with simple surprise—a rainbow, a warm smile, the sound of a bird—opening the door to joy. Being thankful awakens us to the blessings around us and becomes the linchpin of a life animated by faith, lifted by hope, and nurtured by love.

In an age dominated by nihilism, gratitude is an act of resistance. It stitches meaning back into life.

Here’s a simple, actionable antidote to nihilism:

Each morning or evening, pause and reflect on three things from the past 24 hours for which you are truly grateful. Feel the gratitude fully. Notice what shifts in your heart and mind. Watch how even small moments of appreciation counteract negativity, restore meaning, and reconnect you to the life that surrounds you.

Gratitude is more than a practice—it’s a rebellion against emptiness, a return to purpose, and a daily homecoming for the soul.

Reino Gevers – Host of the LivingToBe podcast

P.S.: If you enjoyed this article, you might be interested in my latest book, Sages, Saints, and Sinners. Get it today on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and wherever good books are sold.

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The Gift of Money: Spiritual Perspectives

Since the earliest days of organized religion, money has played a pivotal role. It has been used to “spread the word” and to entrench religious power, sometimes abused for exploitation, but also put to good use. It has funded countless schools, hospitals, and welfare that shaped much of our society today.

The Roman Catholic Church, for centuries, built its power on a system of tithes. People were taught that by giving money, they could buy tickets out of purgatory and into heaven.

My own family’s story is intertwined with the Lutheran tradition. My grandparents were hardworking farmers who managed to build some wealth through self-sufficiency and discipline. But extravagance was frowned upon. Any money not reinvested in the farm usually went to the church. Holidays, luxury clothing, and even the small consumer comforts that many middle-class families enjoy today were considered wasteful. The unspoken rule was simple: every cent could be put to “better use.”

Is money the root of all evil?

I often heard the phrase: “Money is the root of all evil.” It shaped me more than I realized. Wealth, if earned at all, had to come through sweat, toil, and tears. Quick fortunes, whether through inheritance or the stock market, were regarded with suspicion. For years, I carried this heavy view of money as something dangerous, almost shameful.

But over time, I began to see that this idea rested on a mistranslation. Paul actually wrote: “The love of money is a root of all kinds of evil” (1 Timothy 6:10). Not money itself, but the love of it, the obsession, the addiction, the false security it promises. That realization was freeing. Money is not moral or immoral; it is neutral. It simply amplifies what is already in us.

Money amplifies character

I have seen this truth play out in my own circle. Friends who were always kind and generous only became more so when entrusted with wealth. They gave freely, they created opportunities, they lifted others up. But those who were by nature fearful, self-centered or controlling became even more so once money entered their lives.

I also found new meaning in the parables I had heard as a child. The Parable of the Talents (Matthew 25:14–30) used to feel like a simple lesson about money and responsibility, but as an adult it spoke to me on a deeper level. In the story, a master entrusts his servants with sums of money before leaving on a journey. Two of them take risks, invest, and return with more than they were given. The third buries his portion in the ground, paralyzed by fear of losing it. When the master returns, he praises the first two as faithful and trustworthy, but calls the last one lazy and casts him out.

For me, this is no longer a story about coins or wealth. It is a metaphor for life itself. Each of us is entrusted with something: gifts, time, energy, relationships, and resources. To bury those gifts, to let fear dictate our choices, is to betray the trust of the One who gave them to us in the first place.

The ultimate sin, I have come to realize, is not failure: It is waste. It is letting your unique talents go unused, your light hidden behind a veil, your voice silenced. From the moment of birth, we are called to grow into the fullness of who we are meant to be. Ignoring that inner calling is not just a missed opportunity. It is, in a sense, a treachery against the soul itself.

Burying your talent, your voice, or even your capacity for love is just as wasteful as burying a coin in the dirt. We are meant to risk, to create, to step out in faith, even if it means stumbling along the way. For it is only in using our gifts, be it wealth, wisdom, or creativity that you truly live in alignment with our calling.

Another great example from scripture is the widow in the temple (Mark 12:41–44). She gave two small coins, all she had, while others gave out of their abundance. Jesus noticed her, not for the amount, but for the spirit of trust with which she gave. That story has always humbled me. It reminds me that generosity has nothing to do with size, but with the heart.

Money is a form of energy

Through these reflections, I began to form a new relationship with money. I no longer see it as shameful or corrupting, but as a form of energy. It can be something that can be directed toward building, healing, and serving. If invested ethically, money can create jobs, sustain communities, and bring hope. Used rightly, it becomes spiritual because it reflects love in action.

I hold onto these mantras now:

  • Money creates freedom of choice.
  • Money provides the means to be generous.
  • Money provides comfort and joy.
  • Money removes anxiety and fear.

When money is a gift, not a god, it can truly serve. As Proverbs 11:25 says: “A generous person will prosper; whoever refreshes others will be refreshed.”

That decision to quit a safe job set me on an entirely new path into writing, podcasting, giving workshops, and exploring the realms of self-realization and spirituality. At first, it felt like stepping into a void, but slowly I discovered that the void was full. Every time I shared my journey, someone would come forward and say, “I needed to hear that.” Every time I gave a workshop, I realized that the experiences and lessons I had once considered private struggles could become bridges of connection.

And strangely, once I began to live into that calling, resources began to align with my purpose. Opportunities opened, doors I couldn’t have forced began to swing wide, and money itself flowed differently, less as something to chase, more as something that supported the work I was meant to do. It was as though life itself was saying: finally, you are using what I gave you.

But the inward and outward journey has shown me a different truth. Money, like talent, is a gift. It is neither evil nor good on its own, but it becomes holy when it is placed in service of something greater. It is energy waiting to be directed. To hoard it, or to bury our gifts in fear, is to shrink from the life we are called to live.

Jesus praised both the servants who multiplied their talents and the widow who gave her last two coins. The size of the gift never matters. What matters is the courage to release it, to trust that God can do more with it than we can ever imagine.

That is the lesson I carry forward: when money is a gift, not a god, it can be a force for freedom, generosity, and joy. And when talents are used, not buried, life opens in unimaginable ways and miracles.

I no longer see money as the root of all evil, nor do I see security as the highest goal. My prayer is simpler now: to be a faithful steward of what I have, to invest in love, to risk my gifts, and to walk each path with trust, knowing that even the detours are part of the journey.

Reino Gevers – Host of the LivingToBe podcast

P.S.: If you enjoyed this article, you might be interested in my latest book, Sages, Saints, and Sinners. Get it today on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and wherever good books are sold.

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Beyond Noise: Rilke’s Invitation to Stillness

I’ve been contemplating one of Rilke’s poems lately. It has stayed with me because it speaks so directly to our world today, where noise and distractions pull from all directions. Rilke envisions a silence so profound that all the noise, chatter, busyness of the senses, and endless distractions simply fall away.

And, in that stillness, he says, we might finally glimpse the divine with full clarity.

If only it would be, just once, completely quiet…
If only it would be, just once, completely quiet.
If the random, and the approximate
went mute, and the neighbors’ laughter,
if the noise that my senses make
wouldn’t so stubbornly keep me from waking–
Then I could, in a thousandfold
thought, think you right to the edge of you
and have you (just a smile long),
to give to all life as a gift
like a thank-you.

Reading this, I couldn’t help but notice how often we treat noise, chatter, and distraction as normal. Yet maybe our constant talking, scrolling, and background hum are really a way of avoiding something scarier: just sitting with the stillness within.

Stillness can feel so unsettling because it invites us to hear the inner voice we’ve been ignoring, the voice of authenticity, of truth, of God. Rilke reminds me that silence isn’t empty at all. It’s a threshold. If we dare to step into it, we may discover presence, gratitude, and a deeper connection with life than all our distractions could ever offer.

You could also take a walk in nature, opening the senses to natural sounds that are different from noise. Birdsong, the waters of a creek, the rustling of leaves in the trees—all of it forms a beautiful symphony. In those moments, you can feel yourself connected to a larger whole and begin to perceive the subtle whispers of the universe.

So here’s a simple practice: find just five minutes today to sit in stillness. Turn off the phone, close your eyes, and notice the quiet beneath the noise. At first it may feel uncomfortable, but stay with it. Listen for that subtle inner voice—the one that whispers rather than shouts. You may find, as Rilke did, that in the stillness something sacred begins to stir.

Reino Gevers – Host of the LivingToBe podcast

P.S.: If you enjoyed this article, you might be interested in my latest book, Sages, Saints, and Sinners. Get it today on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and wherever good books are sold.

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Walking the Camino: A Pilgrimage of Body, Mind and Soul

I walked my first pilgrimage on the Camino de Santiago in the summer of 2006. I set out from Sarria, unfit and unprepared, with too much in my backpack and bad hiking boots. After just three days, my feet were blistered, my shoulders sore, and my backpack was slowly coming apart at the seams. And yet, every aching step felt like a quiet reclaiming of body and mind and soul.

It was in those early days, as I rested in pilgrim hostels and listened to the stories of fellow walkers of grief, hope, and longing, that I began to understand that the Camino was far more than a physical trail. It was a journey into presence, patience, and the sacredness of ordinary life.

Stripping Away Excess Baggage

On the Camino, I quickly realized how little I truly needed. Every unnecessary item in my backpack felt heavier with each step, and gradually I learned to let go of what wasn’t essential. This outer shedding mirrored an inner process, the release of a thousand thoughts of the head-mind. What remained was a raw encounter with myself. In that stripped-down honesty, I began to feel space open for the divine to enter.


Experiential Spirituality

The Camino taught me a prayer of movement, unlike anything I had experienced before. Each step became a rhythm of surrender: inhaling with gratitude, exhaling with release.

Spirituality rarely comes in dramatic revelations. Instead, it appears in nuanced whispers, in small, ordinary moments: the sound of church bells echoing across a valley, the scent from a forest on a misty morning, a shared meal with strangers who quickly feel like old friends. These moments shimmered with presence, reminded me that the divine was not elsewhere. I just hadn’t noticed or seen it before.


Rediscovering Communion with Humanity

Walking alongside pilgrims from all corners of the world, I began to see the sacred thread that connects all of humanity. I listened to stories of grief, hope, and longing shared on dusty trails and over bowls of soup. In hearing their experiences, I discovered that spirituality is not just an inward journey. It is also found in the recognition of our shared humanity and the ways we reflect the divine in one another.


Whispers from the Universe

There were long stretches of silence, hours with nothing but the sound of my footsteps, birdsong, and the slow turning of my own thoughts. Over time, my inner chatter began to fade, leaving a spaciousness that felt like prayer. In that quiet, I realized the divine was not distant. It was a subtle certainty within, present with every heartbeat.


The Real Camino Begins After the Camino

Reaching Santiago is both an ending and a beginning for me. The true journey is never about arriving. It is about awakening to the sacredness of each step along the way. The Camino becomes less a trail across Spain and more a way of living: to walk with presence, to notice the divine in the ordinary, and to live as though every breath were part of a pilgrimage.

The Camino has rekindled my spirituality in unexpected ways by simplifying, grounding, and embodying the divine. It has taken faith out of abstraction and placed it into the rhythm of footsteps, the ache of muscles, the beauty of landscapes, and the kindness of strangers. For me, it has become not just a journey across Europe—but a way of walking through life itself.

Reino Gevers – Host of the LivingToBe podcast

P.S.: If you enjoyed this article, you might be interested in the two books I wrote on the Camino: Walking on Edge – a Pilgrimage to Santiago and Deep Walking for Body, Mind and Soul my latest book,  Get it today on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and wherever good books are sold.

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Impermanence: Lessons from Mystics and Sages

All the ancient sages and saints return to one non-negotiable truth: the law of impermanence. It is the invisible thread that runs through the fabric of life, weaving and shifting in cycles that shape every experience, identity, and attachment to what once was and is no more.

In Buddhist teachings, the very nature of all phenomena is this: it arises, it changes, and it then passes away. Resisting such impermanence is like trying to dam a river with your bare hands. You only exhaust yourself, and the water still finds its way through. You get wet!

Yet in our materialist culture, we are indoctrinated with the false belief that self-worth is equal to possessions, status, and the glitter of external achievement. The blueprint is enticing: When I have a million in the bank, the perfect home, and a Ferrari in the garage, then I will be happy. When I retire. I will do ... As if life only starts with retirement?

But sooner or later, you discover that what you want is not always what you need, especially when the outer trappings are disconnected from the soul’s true purpose. The more you own, the more you may fear losing it. There is a real danger that you become obsessed with thoughts on what might happen, forgetting that no insurance policy, stock strategy, or health plan can shield you from the law of impermanence.

Paradoxically, the mystics embrace impermanence because it reveals what does not change: the permanence of the soul and its unbroken connection to God, the Source, the Tao, the Universal Consciousness. By meditating on the transient world, the Mystics learned to anchor themselves in what transcends time.

Meister Eckhart, the 14th-century Christian mystic, taught a similar truth when he said, “To be full of things is to be empty of God. To be empty of things is to be full of God.” For Eckhart, the art of detachment was not withdrawal from life, but freedom within it. It is releasing the need to grasp at what inevitably passes so that the soul can rest in what is eternal. In letting go of form, the formless Presence is discovered.

In mystical thinking, endings are thresholds to new beginnings, with death merely being a passage to another dimension. Just as autumn clears the ground for spring’s blossoms, life’s losses make space for new insights, relationships, and states of being. The Sufi poet Hafiz reminds us: “Don’t get lost in your pain; know that one day your pain will become your cure.”

The mystics teach that surrendering to the law of impermanence brings peace of mind, dissolving fear at its root. We are travelers on the journey called life and only guests in the house of time. Like the river that does not mourn the stone it passes, everything you touch, everything you experience, is a moment flowing by.

So let your walk be soft and light. Love deeply. Release gently. You lose nothing, because the current carries you, steadily, inevitably, toward the eternal ocean.

Reino Gevers – Host of the LivingToBe podcast

P.S.: If you enjoyed this article, you might be interested in my latest book, Sages, Saints, and Sinners. Get it today on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and wherever good books are sold.

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The Sacred Principle of Diversity

There’s something quietly profound about spending time in a natural landscape that hasn’t been tamed or touched by human hands. Whether it’s in the African bush, a lonely walk in the Galician mountains, or on a mundane path in the Meseta. What strikes me every time is how life insists on diversity. Every insect, tree, bird, and creature is somehow interconnected in a grand, mysterious harmony. Nature doesn’t strive for sameness. It thrives because of its differences.

And I’ve come to believe the same is true for humanity.

Every different culture, cuisine, language, and spiritual tradition feels like a distinct fingerprint of life, carrying its own wisdom, colors, and cadence. They’re not threats to one another but complementary parts of a much larger whole.

When we try to flatten the world into one belief system, one way of being, one “truth,” we violate a deep principle embedded in creation itself.

So many of the “isms” we’ve inherited, such as nationalism, tribalism, and certain flavors of extreme patriotism, tend to dehumanize those who don’t fit neatly into the mold. When difference becomes a threat instead of a teacher, it often escalates into exclusion, oppression, and even violence.

And yet, the ancient sages and mystics remind us: under all these differences, there is unity.

The Baha’i Faith teaches that all religions stem from the same divine source, evolving like chapters in one great story of spiritual awakening with the great spiritual teachers from different religions appearing at a certain chosen time and place.

Mahayana Buddhism tells us that all beings possess Buddha-nature, regardless of the path they walk; the light within is the same.

In Christian Mysticism, creation is declared “good,” and every human made in the image of God, each of us carrying a unique spark of divine purpose. Meister Eckhart, the 13th-century mystic, wrote:

“The eye through which I see God is the same eye through which God sees me; my eye and God’s eye are one eye, one seeing, one knowing, one love.”

Another echo of this truth comes from the writings inspired by Julian of Norwich (c. 1342 – after 1416), an English woman who lived in quiet prayer and seclusion:

“Each soul is a unique expression of God’s love, as varied and wondrous as the colors in creation.”

This isn’t just theology. It’s a call to practice. A spiritual responsibility. If diversity is sacred, then how I relate to it matters. Am I listening? Am I open? Am I willing to be changed by what I don’t yet understand?

This can become a daily transformative spiritual practice:

  • What can I learn from the differences I perceive in others?
  • What is it that provokes my discomfort, anger, or fear?
  • Why am I drawn to some cultures and landscapes, and repelled by others?

These questions may serve as an invitation into a deeper clarity and humility.

In a world increasingly shaped by division, choosing to honor diversity is a form of sacred resistance. It’s a return to the original design of creation: not uniformity, but unity through difference. And when you lean into that, something holy begins to take shape both around you and within.

Reino Gevers – Host of the LivingToBe podcast

P.S.: If you enjoyed this article, you might be interested in my latest book, Sages, Saints, and Sinners. Get it today on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and wherever good books are sold.

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Filed under raised consciousness, religion, spirituality