Choosing depth

Many years ago, I sat in a workshop with a teacher named Howard Schechter. At one point, he drew a simple cross on a sheet of paper. The horizontal line represented breadth — expansion, reach, visibility. The vertical line represented depth — descent, essence, the unseen.

He said we each must choose which direction our lives will follow.
In that moment, something in me stirred. I knew, without words, that my path was depth.
But I wanted to do both.
I wanted to share what I knew, to reach others, to build and teach and offer.
I wanted to change the world. Lol.
So for many years I stretched myself in both directions — outward and inward —
until the effort itself became exhausting.

For many years I believed I could do both — widen my reach and deepen my work.

I wanted to reach many people and still remain faithful to what can only be known in quiet.
But breadth and depth are not companions; they are different directions of being.

This year, I stopped fighting it.
I gave up breadth, and let myself descend fully.

The truth is, I know I’m not here for breadth.
I’m here for depth — for what is unseen, unspoken, and magically transformative.

Breadth moves across the surface of things, gathering, connecting, explaining.
Depth moves downward — into silence, into essence, into the living field beneath thought.

The deeper current has claimed me now. My service is not in expansion, but in presence.
Not in building more, but in becoming still enough that others can feel the Field through me.

Depth does not seek an audience. It transforms by resonance, not reach. And in that realization, I am finally free.

I’m no longer trying to make my work fit into the world. Instead, I’m allowing it to belong to the Field that birthed it. This is where I’m resting now — in a quieter way of being, in the simple holiness of depth itself.