Last week I launched a contest to mark the publication of my new book. Via a hidden "Easter egg" on my website cushnir.com, I asked participants to share how they are compassionate with themselves during times of great financial stress. The responses poured in and were truly inspiring. Reading through them, I was touched by the collective wisdom we share as a loose-knit, global spiritual community. I found myself to be the real winner of the contest in getting to bask in so much heartfelt, practical sharing.

It's been awhile since I've posted here, with my attention being diverted by podcasts and two books about to come out. But now, as I get ready to launch the new website, cushnir.com, I realized it's time to check in. In doing so, I'm presenting an interview I did last summer with Stephanie Gunning, of the wonderful free Web learning program called The Great American Think Out. To learn more about the program, click here. This interview makes me laugh because I'm so amped during it. Truth is, I had just drunk my daily matte and was huffing around the backyard, headset clinging to my ear and one year old daughter in my arms. As a result I'm much more freewheeling and unguarded than usual. I hope you enjoy it, and I promise to steer clear of caffeine at all our upcoming retreats!

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about zero and one. They bring us more than we could ever imagine, but also a lot less. In Daniel Goleman’s fascinating book, The Meditative Mind, he suggests that all forms of meditation either boil down to zero or one. In the zero camp are those types of meditation that aim to evoke a state of emptiness, or void. In the one camp are the types of meditation that aim to create a state of unity, or (obviously) oneness. When you give those two states serious consideration, it turns out that they’re very different. In oneness everything comes together, and in emptiness everything disappears. Oneness is an experience of complete presence, and emptiness is an experience of complete absence.

My niece, Beatrix, is like most children. She wants. She wants more. She wants more and more and more. For her recent birthday, Beatrix received a set of "Critter Creatures," along with their special playhouse. This set-up got about an hour of play before Beatrix was asking to go online and find more creatures. Specifically, she was aiming to use a Target gift card, another birthday present, to increase her collection. Suddenly, and all too quickly, the creature set she had wasn't good enough. It just wasn't as fun to play with, knowing that there was so much more, and seemingly better, to be had. I marveled at how the universally human desire-mechanism was already in full force for Beatrix at such an early age.