SkyWeaver private beta has begun and you can sign up at SkyWeaver.net

Collision 2019: A New Dimension of Gaming was originally published in Horizon on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Morning routines are wonderful for taking time for ourselves and setting our course for the day. They can prevent us from feeling scattered, and allow us to enter the mindset we want to carry forth in all our daily activities.

My morning routine has been a dear ally for quite some time, so I’ve decided to share. Perhaps it’ll help you too :)

The moment I wake up, I say “thank you, I love you.”

Then, I express gratitude for the most beautiful being I’ve ever known, and I look at her on the mornings she’s sleeping beside me.

Meditate for 20–30 minutes while lying in bed.

Use the washroom and perform Nauli Kriya abdominal massage, which is incredible for enhancing digestion.

Drink water. Between 500mL and 1 litre at first.

Warm up movements for 10–15 minutes (barefoot on the grass when the weather’s nice): sitting in squat, joint mobility, spinal waves, pull-ups, lizard crawls, rotational bridges, handstand, etc.

Play/move for 1–3 hours with one of: dance, weightlifting, gymnastics strength work/hand balancing, squash, yoga, sprints, swimming. I listen to music with most of these activities.

Then, I either have a green vegan protein smoothie or continue fasting and head into my office to play all day ❤

Note: I typically refrain from social media until after everything mentioned above.

Originally published at www.michaelsanders.co

This video is a story about the beauty and power of small acts of kindness.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=clFbqJUWNJY

Originally published at www.michaelsanders.co.

Wow. What a conversation! I had the opportunity to chat with my soul brother Keith Anthony Blanchard, and it was a special experience. Click here to watch or listen :)

Originally published at www.michaelsanders.co

Founded by Michael Murphy and Dick Price, The Esalen Institute in Big Sur has been a driving force in the shaping and exploration of culture and consciousness since 1962.

The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Alan Watts, Jack Kerouac, Aldous Huxley, Terence McKenna, Ida Rolf, Abraham Maslow, Joseph Campbell, Joan Baez, Ansel Adams, John C. Lilly, Deepak Chopra, and Stanislav Grof are just some of the many magical people to have studied, taught, lived and played there.

I first became enamoured with the Esalen Institute when I was in my early teens reading Jack Kerouac’s On The Road.

At that time, I dreamt about leaving the status quo to vagabond around the world and write about my journeys. Back then, much like Kerouac, I felt like a lost soul.

When I was 14 years old, my dad gave me The Doors of Perception & Heaven and Hell by Aldous Huxley, a book that profoundly impacted my perspective of reality.

It wasn’t until 2016 that I first found myself along the majestic Pacific Coast Highway in Big Sur, California. While there, I picked up another of Kerouac’s novels — this one called Big Sur. Within the first few pages, Kerouac wrote about his life as an author, drinking Ayahuasca, and being at the Esalen Institute. Covered in goosebumps from the profound synchronicity of what I was reading, I never made it beyond those first few pages.

While in Tulum earlier this year, a brotherly connection with Mac Murphy was revealed. Mac happens to be a steward of the Esalen land and the son of founder Michael Murphy. Mac and another dear friend Zach Bell invited me to a special event they were hosting at Esalen in February.

Late last month, I had the pleasure of experiencing a weekend at Esalen for a summit on (crypto)currency, which was hosted by Return. An intimate group of inspiring leaders and dear friends sat atop the Big Sur cliffs in the Aldous Huxley room overlooking the ocean where we explored the future of currency, blockchain, humanity, our planet and the universe.

We hiked through the Redwood forests, bathed in sulfuric hot springs on the cliff’s edge, were serenaded with one of the greatest musical performances imaginable courtesy of Mardeleva, and I embarked on a death-defying swim that put me in a pre-hypothermic state, all of which felt like a rite of passage.

While I sat on a rock beneath a moonlit and starry night sky at 2:00 am overlooking the ocean one night, tears of gratitude flowed from my soul and out my eyes. I may have been sitting in the very spot that Kerouac wrote Big Sur from. And here I was: traveling the world and writing about my journeys. Only now, I’m not a lost soul. And to arrive here is a dream come true.

Originally published at www.michaelsanders.co

Originally published at www.michaelsanders.co.

February 27, 2038

We live in a world where people live symbiotically with nature. We value our harmony with all other entities. We recognize that there is nothing to extract, and only everything to share. Energy transfers from one form to another and from one set of hands to the next. We do not own, but instead temporarily hold.

We measure our holdings with the blockchain. The blockchain keeps track of energy flow and exchange in a publicly accessible manner. Our understanding of energy flow, rather than energy ownership, informs our relationships with other humans, as well as our relationships with all beings.

We all share this economy. We all share this Earth. We all share this universe. And, the blockchain is allowing us to transcend our need for an artificial ledger altogether.

Cosmically, karmically, we have always lived with a ledger so ubiquitous that it’s invisible. It’s nice that we all see that now.

Originally published at www.michaelsanders.co

“My intention is love, heal, explore, surrender, celebrate, be, gratitude, play.”

Coyote passes me the hummingbird pipe as Spirit sets an intention and blesses me with sage.

I inhale the N,N-DMT smoke derived from Jurema before gasping more air.

“Hold it deep in your lungs with stillness,” Coyote says.

I hold full lungs for 60 seconds before a warming sensation and buzzing sound fills half of my consciousness. I exhale a pleasurable sigh.

Coyote torches the pipe once more as I lift it to my mouth for a second inhalation. The warmth becomes more extreme as geometric checkered patterns of black and white with flashing lights begin to occupy the vast majority of my awareness. I hold the smoke in for longer this time before exhaling with an orgasmic sigh.

I inhale and exhale for another round, and a conscious being — large and round with a slight feminine essence that also embodies the masculine — emerges from the patterns. The being lovingly approaches close to my face as I receive the hummingbird pipe for a fourth time. As I try to inhale, I’m unsure whether I’m missing the hole or if I can simply no longer feel the smoke due to saturation. The being encourages me to lie back with a wave of lights and colours.

I fall back onto the pillow and the explosion of lights and colours fills the cosmos. I see powerful sounds flowing from the being, directly through me, and I belt out the loudest ohming sound I can possibly make — though it doesn’t feel like I’m doing anything at all. Rather, the sound simply flows through me. To resist would be difficult.

The sound blasts through my body, my mind, my heart and my soul as I splay out on the floor, heart exposed to the universe. Over and over, sounds — big powerful sounds — flood from this dimension and rip through me. AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHMMMMMMM!!! WWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWMMMMMMMM!!!! OOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMBBBBBB!!!! WWWWEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!! They feel so good, so clearing, so uplifting, so healing, so playful, as lights explode and more beings enter the space.

These entities, conscious beings of the sixth dimension, play and dance before and with me. A female being that’s connected with Spirit dances and cartwheels by placing one hand in my heart before flipping over. Back and forth she goes, cartwheeling with my heart, flashing brilliant pinks and greens in essence, but with greater iridescence. A more masculine being, who’s connected with Coyote, stands in place with a bouncing vibration and holds a black colour of flashing brilliance. Both beings occupy multiple places at one time, so it feels as though there are actually four or six beings. The beings reach into my heart and body to play and give me love. It’s so much fun, so light hearted and so uplifting. Pure joy.

My eyes periodically and briefly float open to see the kaleidoscopic, light-filled and connected nature of the third dimension.

My left arm shakes and then elevates. My right arm elevates and then both fall wide open, fully surrendered to the experience — an experience unlike any in the third dimension. The beings’ abilities to move through space and time are so fascinating. They show me how to move through “space” in ways that the third dimension seemingly doesn’t allow for, as they continue to dance and play in the explosion of lights and sounds.

The didgeridoo blasts into my heart with brilliant orange and yellow — a glowing sun of love.

White light rips through my being, aligning every chakra with love and glory. The right side of my brain becomes incredibly heavy. Like, really heavy, as though gravity has become fifteen times stronger on that portion of my head, and it feels so good.

The beings and the sixth dimension drift toward the left side of my perceptual field as the visual experience begins to soften and the flashes of light become subtler. The glowing sun of love remains in the centre of my being as I approach the return to sobriety. But, the experience isn’t over yet and I feel a sensation of lightning flowers electrify my body. My spine arches and I balance on the crown of my head as energy ascends through me. I collapse back to the floor and the arch happens twice more — damn, it feels good! I spit and fart my tongue and feel droplets of saliva sprinkle my face. There’s such joy in bringing form to the formless. What a gift to have a body! What a gift to play in the 3D!

Subtle rainbows and lights flash through my consciousness, my awareness, and the dimensions I’m interfacing with. Subtle by comparison to the visuals earlier in the journey, but profound compared with regular waking reality.

The journey seems to be drifting away, but I notice a dark cloud with the subtlest rainbows sprinkled throughout it.

I ascend to investigate the cloud and see it has a face of some sort. A masculine being that looks dark and contradicts my typical perceptions of beauty, but I’ve learned that not everything’s essence can be judged by its appearance. In fact, some other-dimensional beings with terrifying and ominous aesthetics are actually loving beyond bounds. Plus, I understand that there’s nothing to fear. Nothing can take anything from you, unless you allow it to. I know that I’m protected by unconditional love. So protected that the unconditional love actually transcends the need for protection — like an infinite beam of light and ice that can’t be latched onto. There is simply nothing to take away.

I welcome the dark being, say “yes” aloud, open my heart and fully surrender to him. He approaches and extends an arm towards me. He reaches for my heart before the didgeridoo blasts in his direction and he cowers in fear. He floats away before dissolving in the right upper portion of the ether. I intuit that he wanted to steal something from me but realized that his effort was futile.

“I love you,” I whisper to him. “I love you, and I hope you are well.” I know he just wants love. He simply needs to find it within himself, since stealing doesn’t work.

I spit and fart my tongue some more as the drool droplets dance on my face. Ah, such joy in bringing form to the formless.

I open my eyes to see Spirit, with eyes closed, playing the didgeridoo beside me. I sit up cross-legged, a smile beaming across my face and inside my heart. I see the world with a somewhat mushroomy filter — physical reality is a little more cartoony than usual.

Spirit feeds me a strawberry that ruptures light and love and joyous flavour inside my mouth and dances across every taste bud. I laugh. Haha, such joy in bringing form to the formless. Coyote kneels beside me and we hug. I hug Spirit. I smile and thank everyone in the room before going to sit down on my pillow in our group of nine’s circle. The digital clock displays 9:42.

I was taking everything so seriously that I stopped getting boners and considered putting a bullet in my brain.

I was working as the vice president of an advertising agency, the co-founder of a startup in the gaming industry, and was training intensely ten or more times each week.

I wanted to serve my clients, launch a successful company and attain financial freedom. I wanted to achieve a one-arm handstand, a one-arm chin-up and a 400-pound squat. I wanted to be at my peak every moment of my life.

I was going to bed early, so that I could wake up early. I had amazing friends, but it became difficult to share quality time with them. After all, I had to rise at 7 a.m. to work on my handstand. And, I had to ensure that I had proper nutrition and sleep to get the most out of my training.

If I was tired, I had to push through and work harder. There’s no such thing as overtraining. There’s only undertraining, I thought. Plus, I don’t deserve more rest. I spend eight to ten hours per day at a standing desk. That’s rest enough, I told myself, ignoring the fact that I was orchestrating client advertising strategies and trying to launch a startup during those hours.

While I ate, I listened to educational and self-development podcasts. When I had openings in my schedule, I read books, or I trained strength and mobility for a third time that day. All so that I could do more, accomplish more, and be more.

I grew up a serious child. Two defining moments at age five contributed to my seriousness:

One afternoon, I was playing with a toy Ferrari and a police car, and I thought to myself, this can’t be all there is. Why do people care so much about material things? Why aren’t we always asking ourselves, “What are we doing here? How did we get here? What’s the point of it all?”

From that day onward, I was immersed in existential contemplation. Material objects didn’t excite me much, and I couldn’t stop wondering why people talked about the weather instead of the universe. This was both a serious and enjoyable endeavor.

Months later, on a hot summer’s eve, my parents were arguing. My dad stood in the garage while my mom stood inside the kitchen with the door open to the garage.

“I don’t want you to go golfing tonight,” my mom said.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back before dark,” my dad replied.

“No. I want you to stay home and look after the kids. I need a break.”

“I’ve been working at the hospital all day, and I need to unwind.”

“You don’t get it. I’ve been with the kids all day, taking care of the house all day, and running your office all day.”

“I’ll be home before dark,” my dad said as he got into his car and pulled out the driveway.

“You’re an asshole!” my mom screamed as she slammed the door and came inside the house crying.

My parents don’t know how to communicate with one another, and my baby brother’s too young to understand. I need to hold this family together, I resolved. From that day forward, I took on the responsibility to do so. This was a serious endeavor, and not an enjoyable one.

The existential contemplation, responsibility and seriousness continued throughout elementary and high school, and into university. As I developed a deeper understanding for media dissemination and the way our governments lie to and manipulate us, the world became an increasingly serious place.

I played sports, but I put a ton of pressure on myself to perform. I hung out with friends, but I was always a little on edge. I only felt truly present and relaxed if I was drunk or high, which became experiences I sought out most weekends.

The only dream persisting from my youth was to write a book that I thought was awesome. I imagined it’d be a brilliant work of fiction.

I don’t think anyone would have thought I was unhappy. I did have many fun experiences. It’s just that I was always in my head.

The first time I really played was when I was 22, after seeing Avatar. That film had a profound impact on me: I went from seeing the world as interconnected, dark and competitive to interconnected, loving and beautiful. Some of my friends jokingly refer to Avatar as my enlightenment. After seeing it, I felt so inspired, so energized, and I even danced for the first time. Dance has been an integral part of my life ever since.

At the start of 2012, I began training with world-renowned movement teacher Ido Portal. Ido has a better understanding of movement and physicality than anyone I’ve come across, and his ability to move his body seems only limited by his imagination. I was captivated by his teachings, which covered disciplines such as gymnastics, weightlifting, rock climbing, speed, martial arts, dance, hand balancing, injury prevention, Parkour, acrobatics, falling, mobility, swimming, awareness, consciousness, and more.

Ido talked about play and the idea that one of movement’s purposes is to facilitate greater enjoyment. But I didn’t embody the play part of it. I loved movement, but I ignored the play. Instead, I embodied the obsession, which culminated in addiction. Eventually, my body (and soul) became so run down that my strength all but disappeared.

I would sleep ten or twelve hours each night, and still the sound of my morning alarm clock felt like some sick joke. Each time it buzzed, I could’ve sworn I had only closed my eyes moments before. I wasn’t feeling the slight bit rested.

As I mentioned earlier, my erections were few and far between. I could muster them with effort, but I certainly wasn’t waking with morning wood. The lack of libido and vigour combined with exhaustion had me questioning whether life was worth living.

The breaking point came one weekend in February, 2013. I had started a workout that included 25 repetitions of front squats with 225 pounds. I couldn’t even lift the weight once. The following night, I was making love with a beautiful woman, and I couldn’t stay hard. As I lay awake with the woman asleep beside me, I resolved: if I can’t start feeling like myself again within two years, I’m going to end my life.

I was contemplating suicide. But, I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet.

Shortly thereafter, I consulted with a natural health practitioner named Lovedeep, who asked me questions about every aspect of my life.

“Michael, I think you should play more,” Lovedeep said.

I knew he was right.

In conjunction with a daily meditation practice, I started to play. I danced more, I started rock climbing and doing Parkour, and I hung out with my friends more often. I went on adventures around the city — walking, hiking, jumping, smelling flowers, hugging trees, and exploring areas I had previously taken for granted — and generally allowed myself to engage in activities simply for the sake of enjoyment.

By August 2013, I was feeling much better, and I went to Burning Man for the first time. In case you’re unfamiliar, Burning Man is a utopic and transformative eight-day festival in Black Rock Desert, Nevada. Burning Man deserves a book of its own, but in a nutshell, it is perhaps the ultimate form of play, and the manifestation of human potential.

Imagine mystical mountains, a pristine blue sky, and a hot sun serving as the backdrop of a home for 70,000 people who harmoniously co-exist in a vast and rugged desert landscape. These tens of thousands of people communicate on a telepathic wavelength and are all trying to enhance one another’s experience. The compounding effect of these people’s efforts is so transformative and magical that it can change a person forever. It doesn’t matter what you’re seeking, you will find it, and typically, you will do so instantaneously. Whether you want a kiss from a beautiful woman, to go on a psychedelic adventure, to hear the sounds of dolphins and whales, to cruise the nighttime desert on a 70-foot long mechanical dragon who breathes fire as the bass drops from its elaborate sound system, to eat sushi and a frozen coconut, or to dance to the sunrise while listening to your favourite DJ broadcast music from a perfectly engineered sound system affixed to a double-decker bus that’s covered in profound visionary art while elegant lasers bathe you and a thousand new friends in a euphoria you didn’t know possible, you will find it, and it will find you.

Most people experience feelings of astonishment, awe, disbelief, transcendence, love, peace, magic and miracles. The sense of love and home I felt at Burning Man was something I had been longing for my entire life without realizing it. I left Burning Man with a light-heartedness, playfulness, and boundlessness that have been growing ever since, and I keep going back year after year.

My life became less regimented, and I became more spontaneous. I’ve always considered myself an explorer, but now the explorations feel less serious: equally, if not more, profound, but less serious.

In December 2013, I ventured down to Peru to trek through the Amazon rainforest and to partake in three shamanistic ceremonies with the sacred and psychedelic plant medicine known as Ayahuasca. Ayahuasca shattered my previous paradigm of reality and showed me something so far beyond my wildest imagination that now informs my entire way of being. It showed me that the fabric of our universe is love. Love is the creative force responsible for all things. It’s responsible for the Big Bang and its predecessors; every work of art: every painting, every song, every written word; it’s responsible for the propagation of species, the division of cells, and the explosion of stars. Love is the child who cries, the bird that soars, and the grass that grows through the pavement. Love is infinite and everywhere. It’s what we’re made of. To know this filled me with a deep sense of peace.

My experience with the plant medicine helped me realize that I am enough. I don’t need to do more or be more. Already, I am enough. The experience also showed me that everything is a choice. In each moment, I have the freedom to choose. There’s no reason to perceive anything as an obligation. For example, I might think I need to take out the trash, but actually, I don’t have to. I could let the trash accumulate inside. Or, I could choose to take it to the curb. I am not obliged. I am free.

Ayahuasca encouraged me to fulfill my lifelong desire to write a book. Not long after, I released Ayahuasca: An Executive’s Enlightenment.

And, Ayahuasca encouraged me to play more. Play is a celebration of life. It is the acknowledgement that what I am now is enough. I now play every day as an act of celebration. I play every day as an act of gratitude for this life I get to experience, this life I get to live.

Today, my life revolves around play, and my prime directive is enjoyment. While I do work and endure struggles — emotionally, physically, mentally and spiritually — I enjoy all of it.

I enjoy the work I do. It fulfills me on a deep level. I enjoy the struggles. Perspective is important here: if I can observe my struggles rather than succumb to them, I can appreciate and enjoy the experience of the struggle. I can appreciate and enjoy the fact that I get to experience struggles at all.

This enjoyment is supported by the deep trust I have that everything works out. Throughout my entire life, I’ve survived. I’ve made it until now. If you’re reading this, so have you. And, we’ll probably both make it to tomorrow. So, we might as well celebrate that fact and play. Even if we die, we might as well celebrate and play, because death is probably awesome too, and any struggles we’re having now will be washed away by death.

Play can be many things. For me, it often involves movement. But it can involve stillness too — like lying on my bed or in the grass, simply enjoying my being. Now I’m able to enjoy doing nothing.

Beyond the enjoyment component, play rejuvenates and inspires, and in the long run, facilitates productivity. Without play, I would burn out. With play, everything is enjoyable, and I feel infinitely capable.

Play brings me into the present moment. Play helps me realize there’s nothing more we need. There’s nothing to want for. By simply doing the things that excite me the most, my life has transformed — and I bet yours would too.

Enjoy, celebrate, and play every day.

Originally published at www.michaelsanders.co

Currently, Elon Musk and others are investing millions of dollars to see if we can break through the simulation. It’d be great to connect with them to discuss advancing this effort. Please share this video widely and comment with your feedback.

• Of course, waking up outside this simulation begs the question: did I wake up inside another simulation — like Russian dolls unto infinity?

Originally published at www.michaelsanders.co