I am not a wild or crazy guy.

Most people ignore perplexing aspects of the Universe like a commuter who notices an alien spaceship hovering over the train tracks, but keeps walking because the 7:05 to Manhattan leaves in three minutes. I did, too, for a long while.

Remember the 80’s? I got an MBA from Wharton, then moved right on schedule to the Connecticut suburbs where I had three kids, went to almost 100 parent/teacher conferences, played tennis decently and golf badly.

Plus, I had three 70-pound dogs at the same time. Dogs are my spirit animals.

Most of my life has been pretty mainstream. A “crazy” day for me was trying to make it across Long Island Sound in my 18-foot motorboat.

And yet…along the way, a few inexplicable things occurred. Like the time I knew the car in front of us on the highway was going to do a 360-degree spin before it did. That premonition was the only reason my entire family avoided a crash.

Just enough of these moments happened that I have not been able to accept mainstream explanations of how the Universe works.

I loosen up, a bit…

Life got complicated. I left Connecticut and moved to Park City for a good while. Four years ago, I moved to Bend, Oregon.

Here, I started going to breathwork workshops. My first one also attracted 400 other people. It was like plant medicine without the plant medicine. I kept thinking: why did I wait 30 years to do this?

I forgot to mention spending a year dating a craniosacral healer. That taught me a lot. I signed up for Akashic Readings without knowing exactly what they are. Had an astrology reading, even though I struggle to understand how the planets can explain why I am still upset at my parents for sending me to Latin school.

This is a very quick summary. Other stuff happened, too. Along the way, I kept notes and eventually wrote a letter to myself:

“What are my guides trying to tell me?”

The consistency of the messages was what got me. These weren’t vague platitudes that could apply to anyone. The messages were specific, and repeated over and over from independent sources.

One reader put it this way, “Your spirit guides are inviting you to play and to connect. Accept the invitation. Find tangible ways to play—dogs, water, being on the earth. You’ve got to play to win (she used this phrase again and again) is not about competition, but about participation. You have to be on the field to receive abundance.”

The Akashic Records told me to tune into the joy of life. Run into puddles. Don’t do things for a reason in my head, but for the sheer joy of it.

My friend Jungle Jake, giving me an astrology reading from his retreat in Peru, said don’t hold back in my explorations. Reach into the depths as far as I can go.

But I keep missing one important message:

Play isn’t a reward for completing my work. It IS the work.

Play is the mechanism through which I’ll gain access to deeper insights. Peek behind the curtain, so to speak. My tendency to make everything productive and purposeful is exactly what blocks the channel.

Let go of the need to be right, my guides urged. Choose peace over proving a point.

If I had to reduce five years of readings to a single line, it would be this:

I already know everything I need to know intellectually; my assignment now is to stop knowing and start being.

Who am I to argue with the Universe?

I have surrendered.

These days, I am playing with the Universe.

I’m grounded enough not to pretend I understand all this, and playful enough not to make it anything like a religion.

I’m a normal guy exploring some possibilities about how reality works.

My focus right now is on new experiences:

Meeting more energy healers.
Trying remote viewing.
Conducting (playful) experiments.
Following synchronicities.
Experimenting with intuition.
Meditating with highly adept meditators.
Visiting sacred and highly energetic places.
Going deep into nature.

When the time is right, I’ll write about what I experienced, what I sense to be true (or possible), and what I still don’t know.

Wanna play?

If you’re reading this, the odds are high that I sent you a note asking for your cooperation and/or participation. I’m not a nut, not a true believer, and definitely not dangerous.

I do, however, know how to engage others. Over the past 15 years, I attracted 800,000 followers and half a million newsletter subscribers on LinkedIn.

I promise that eventually some good will come of this experiment, so if I invite you to come play with the Universe, I hope you’ll say yes.