July 2025: Moksha: Get Free or Get Liberated?

“Can you believe I’m 30 years old, out here trying to learn how to skateboard?” she said to me, as I walked to the studio on a sunny, late-May Saturday morning.

I stopped. I looked her square in the eye, took out my earbuds and put Fela Kuti’s “Coffin for Head of State” on a quick pause.

I said to her, “Yes. I can believe it, and I love it. Keep going!”

And that was the moment that I knew I wanted to make Moksha, or spiritual liberation, the theme of the studio for July.

Because, damn, y’all. I feel like the word “free,” especially in the month of the birth of our flawed, complicated country, gets thrown about in ways that I don’t often vibe with. The way I see freedom manifest these days very often means the freedom to make a lot of money, at the expense of others’ well-being. Or that most-odious “for me, but not for thee” mentality that makes it okay for some people to break laws, while other people get threatened with deportation for protesting. Or being free to practice a religion until you win a primary for the mayor of New York, and all of a sudden, people have a problem with a Muslim running for a government seat (ps: I know a great Muslim mayor - he happens to be mayor of my hometown. Shout out, Mayor Hammoud!). Or being “free” to make decisions about one’s health and wellness, except not if you want to have reproductive health autonomy. I could say more, but I need to stop before I have to go punch a wall.

But LIBERATION: I can dig it. Liberation says to me: I am no longer oppressed. Or perhaps: I am oppressed, but I’m not going to let my oppressor steal my joy. It says, I’m going to let go of my urge to criticize myself and others, and not worry about “am I doing this right?” just for a little while.

And in the spiritual sense, liberation, or Moksha, means that I’ve learned enough and paid enough dues that I have the ability to escape these endless cycles of birth and rebirth, and I can ascend! I can rise above and out of this absolute clusterfuck of existence and go be a saint somewhere beyond the bardo in nirvana.

Except.

Guess what most ascendant beings decide to do? They decide to go back in and help others on their path toward liberation by becoming a Bodhisattva.

A Bodhisattva is someone who has attained enlightenment and could escape the cycles of death and rebirth (samsara), but instead, puts their own enlightenment on hold, so that they can help others on their journey toward Moksha. 

And I think there are a lot of ways to assist others on their journey to enlightenment. It can, and should, be doing what we can to help others who are oppressed. That goes without saying. 

But I also think that, sometimes, when we let ourselves be exactly who we are, we can let others know that it's okay to be exactly who they are. Or, if it’s not safe for them to safely express who they are, we can create safe spaces for them, or speak a little louder when it’s not safe for them to speak up.

Or this quote from Albert Camus: 

I want that so badly for all of us. I want my teachers to never second-guess putting something into their classes, and never worry if their students might think it’s weird. I never want to worry about whether I might say “fuck” in class. I want people to sing if a song comes on that they want to sing to, or if a song in their head is so great that they want to sing it aloud. I want to be the first one on the dance floor and I want to invite all the people who want to dance to dance with me. I don’t want anyone to be so shy that it takes five months to feel brave enough to go to a group yoga class in a studio (that was me, in my early 20’s, in NYC). I want to take that person to yoga as many times as necessary until they’re ready to go to class by themselves.

I want that awesome lady to keep on skateboarding, through 30, 40, 50 years and beyond. 

And the endless task of liberation seems a lot more rewarding when we can unlock moments like that.

So I’d like to end with this translation of the bodhisattva vows by Joan Halifax, probably one of my most northerly north star guiding principles:

I put St. Francis in here, because I think he was a Bodhisattva, and he’s my favorite saint.

Stay in the fight, friends, and find some joy and freedom while you’re there.

I know I ask you this every month, but if you have just five minutes (really, probably less), I’d love you to email me and tell me about a time where you unlocked the true feeling of liberation - where your existence was an act of rebellion.

I’ll start: our neighbors up north like to nitpick us about a lot of things, and are just not friendly. They also like to walk across our little stretch of beach to watch the sun set every night. They are within their legal rights to do so, and I will never, ever stop them. They’re allowed. But I guess their beach is not the right spot to watch the sun set, and I guess it annoys me to see my unfriendly neighbors every summer night I’m there. So, my act of rebellion is to go skinny dipping every time they walk across our beach to watch the sunset. I know it’s petty, but sorry, not sorry.

Send me back some good stories of personal liberation, please.

Xo,

A

Speaking of “Coffin for Head of State” that I was listening to when I saw my skateboarding friend, here’s a great YouTube video that places the lyrics in some context. If you want to understand what it’s like to suffer, struggle, and experience the pure joy of life-changing music all in one container, spend the next 22 minutes with this song: