Religion is doing; a man does not merely think his religion or feel it, he lives his religion as much as he is able, otherwise it is not religion but fantasy or philosophy. — P. D. OUSPENSKY
I grew up seeing religion as a matter of belief. There were right beliefs and wrong beliefs. Right religions and wrong religions. Right people and wrong people.
This perspective came with costs. Conversations about religion were tainted with fear and judgment. I stopped listening to people who disagreed with me. I felt the need to convert them to my beliefs. And I lived with the constant fear that I might be mistaken after all — that others were right and I was wrong.
Growing up Lutheran, I spent an hour each week in church repeating creeds, singing hymns, and listening to sermons. Then I left church to lead the rest of my life, which was basically untouched by what happened on Sunday morning. I had a religion of beliefs devoid of practices.
As a young adult I eventually found my way to Buddhism — a religion of practices devoid of beliefs. This was liberating. I could open up to every viewpoint. I could listen to people without fear or judgment. I could focus on changing my own behavior rather than changing other people. And I could find common ground with anyone who’s born into a human body, suffers, and dies.
In short: Beliefs divide. Practices unite.
I write to deepen this liberating insight. My posts explore the nature of spiritual practices and how they relate to other paths for relieving human suffering, including psychotherapy.
I write to discover answers — ideas that can be tested rather than taken on faith. Instead of presenting myself as an authority and giving advice, I simply report my personal experience. If anything here resonates with you, I will be delighted.
All of my posts are free for everyone. However, I do value your subscription and welcome your feedback. Please comment or email me at doug.toft@gmail.com
More about me
Every word in this publication is written by me — not AI. I’m experimenting with using AI as a copy editor and research assistant. But I never ask AI to write my posts.
I’ve worked as a writer and editor for many clients. Over the years I’ve freelanced for Cengage Learning, Houghton Mifflin Company, Hazelden Publishing, Mayo Clinic, UnitedHealthcare, and other organizations and individuals.
Since 1989 I’ve been the contributing editor for the Master Student Series of books published by Cengage Learning. Becoming a Master Student by Dave Ellis (now in its 17th edition) has sold over three million copies. I’ve edited other books as well.
I’ve coauthored five books. My favorite is The Caregiver’s Journey: When You Love Someone with AIDS, written with Mel Pohl and Deniston Kay (now out of print, unfortunately). If you ever see a copy in a used book store, take a look at it. This book is loaded with Buddhist and Twelve Step teachings.
I am just an ordinary guy. Though many of my posts are about behavior change and spiritual practices, I am not a psychologist or spiritual teacher. I'm just an ordinary guy who’s passionately interested in how people change their thinking and behavior to transcend suffering.
I am in my 70s. People describe me as semi-retired, which is an oxymoron. Better: The distinction between work and play is disappearing for me.
I don’t do much client work anymore. Instead, I’m creating an original body of work. My age gives this project a dose of urgency.
I have been married to Joanne since 1974. We have two adult children who have wonderful partners. I am more proud of these facts than anything else.
I am a grandfather. Our grandson, Mason, was born in 2019. This changed my life changed forever. What a blessing!
I spend large parts of my days creating and consuming text. When feeling stressed, I open up a text editor. Suddenly I feel better.
I live with prostate cancer. My only treatment at this point is “active surveillance.” This diagnosis raises a question: Can I experience unconditional serenity with cancer (a really interesting condition)?
Regardless, I see every day that I’m alive as a gift.
I’ve lost my parents. My father died of a disabling and undiagnosable neurological disease. My mother died from complications of atypical Alzheimer’s disease. I will write more about this.
I fear dementia more than death — though I’m not really that thrilled about death, either.
Before my children were born, I was a starving musician. I played guitar in jazz clubs and country clubs and taught at the MacPhail Center for Music in Minneapolis.
Fortunately, writing and music are both forms of composition. This helped my career transition.
There are some historical figures I wish I’d met. If you could have dinner with any four people from human history, who would they be?
For me: Hildegard of Bingen, Dostoevsky, Jesus, and Buddha.
I would offer vodka on the rocks and see who takes me up on it.
I have no firm ideas about what I am doing, really. Every day I just try something new and see what happens.
