If you want to transcend, you know what to do. You know where you’re going. Straight toward that which scares you the most. Where it feels the most uncomfortable, like you’re covered with bugs. You lean in there. The discomfort, anger, judgment, disapproval, guilt and shame, that wall (which is actually made of cardboard), right up against it. Pushing into F.E.A.R., (false evidence appearing real), you burrow into the very heart of darkness, scream, shout, run, jumpkick, squealing toward it. Because the only way around is through. Transcendence is messy. If done correctly, it’ll ruin your best yoga pants. Besides that box you’ve been in, the one with all the rules and laws, its way too small. You need a bigger box, a little kung fu freedom. Run toward the fear, morning, noon and night. Get your life out of it. Get a bigger box.