I write about stories.
Not the ones on shelves. The ones running in your head right now. The story that your anger is about your boss. The story that the election was stolen. The story that you are broken and something out there will fix you. Stories are the only product the mind makes, and almost nobody audits the factory.
The assignment isn’t to tell stories, it’s to tell on them. This work pulls back the curtains through three perspectives.
Where the stories live.
Where they have been cross-examined for 3,000 years, from Patañjali to the Stoics to whatever arrived on your TikTok this morning, claiming to be new.
Where they go to war, because political fights are never really about policy. They are about who gets to write the story the rest of us are forced to live in.
My training is a surreal confluence. A tantric, bhakti, Brahminical lineage on one side; science and marketing on the other. The monks taught me the self is a construction. Academia ingrained the importance of falsification.
Everything on this site comes from the friction between those two educations.
I am not offering answers. I am not selling a system. I have one habit. I apply it everywhere: take a story, any story, and ask what it is doing, who built it, who profits when you believe it, and what is the cost of that?
The three words on the front page are windows to the same room.