Books like Reboot

Few books have reminded me more powerfully that our circumstances and our inner life are not the same thing.

I first read Man's Search for Meaning years ago, and its impact has only deepened over time. Frankl's willingness to look directly at suffering without becoming defined by it challenged many of the assumptions I carried about happiness, success, and what it takes to live a meaningful life.

I return to this book because it continually reminds me that meaning is not something life hands us once everything finally goes our way. It is something we discover in how we meet what life places before us.

During difficult seasons of my own life, Frankl's perspective helped me remember that even when we cannot control our circumstances, we still have a relationship with how we respond to them. Few books have given me more courage, perspective, and hope.

A kick in the pants of a book!

Each time I read it, I am reminded that the creation of art is a sacred ritual; that the beautiful process is what creates the beautiful product; that the showing up matters most; and that when we choose art-making as a vital part of our lives, we will do a brave thing each day we go to greet our project.

David Brooks explores how we often climb one “mountain” of achievement—only to discover that true fulfillment lies on a second mountain, defined by purpose, service, and deeper values. This reflects the journey I've taken myself, and that I see so many entrepreneurs and startup founders take, where success becomes less about climbing higher and more about climbing in the right direction, guided by internal transformation and spiritual growth.

We all have that mountain inside of us that we need to climb, and it can be hard to admit that it's the mountain within that matters. I read this during a time of reflection, standing in the “valley” between two phases of life, uncertain of what came next. Brooks gave language to a transition I was already living—moving from outer success to inner fulfillment. His metaphor helped me see that real purpose isn’t about chasing accolades; it’s about showing up with… show more.

Patagonia’s founder doesn’t just talk about building a company—he talks about building one with conscience. I admire how he defines success as humble and fiercely independent. This book is a manifesto for aligning profit with purpose and mission with mindfulness. It challenges entrepreneurs to think not just about revenue, but about the legacy they want to leave behind.

I loved this book because it gave me a behind-the-scenes look at a company I admired from afar but didn’t really know. I’d heard about Patagonia’s commitment to sustainability, but reading about how they actually implement their values—through design, materials, and a “repair, not replace” philosophy—was eye-opening. I also connected deeply with Chouinard’s memoir-style reflections. I appreciated his raw honesty, his resistance to conventional business wisdom, and how he stayed true to his principles. Those are all approaches that deeply resonate with me.

Reading this book helped me change my life for the better. Putting Thich Nhat Hanh’s teachings into practice in my daily life helped me live a more mindful, more peaceful life at a time of great transition in my personal life.

One of the things I love the most about this book is how simple it is to incorporate its practices into daily life. There are sections on how to be mindful about washing dishes or answering the phone! There are also sections that went much deeper, which dealt with how to be mindful of my emotions, which I have found so valuable in dealing with anxiety, difficult situations, and fear.

One of my favorite experiences related to this book was guiding a group of middle school-age kids through a discussion inspired by the “Tangerine Meditation.” Instead of a tangerine, we considered a piece of paper and talked about the… show more.

Geoffrey Mann does a great job of laying out the history of Buddhism and Zen and its links to the martial arts. Thoroughly researched and widely referenced, it’s definitely the place to start, and the hardback edition makes a handsome addition to any martial arts library.

Buddhist philosophers try to construct rational defenses of those claims about the nature of ourselves and the world that are central to the Buddhist project. So clarity about how we obtain knowledge is important to Buddhist thinkers. In this book Stoltz presents some of the fruits of their efforts, the epistemological theories of the tradition. What I most like about this book is the clarity with which Stoltz connects Buddhist theorizing about knowledge with trends in more recent western epistemology, bringing out both important overlaps and significant discontinuities. 

Ñāṇamoli’s anthology invites us into the world of the Pali Canon, the oldest sizable source for early Buddhism and my favourite collection of ancient texts. Although full of transcendent yet practical wisdom, with smatterings of an earthy humour, sometimes it gives me a headache—thousands of pages, endless repetition, words that have no real English equivalent.

Through genius-level editing, Bhikkhu Ñāṇamoli has woven together translated excerpts from the Canon to make something like a modern biography of the Buddha. Reading The Life of the Buddha, I know I’m immersed in the authentic texts, and yet I still want to turn the page to see what will happen next.

One of the first places I heard about Buddhism was through Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, and Gary Snyder. The joy of reading Kerouac has worn off a bit, but Snyder and Ginsberg have become lifetime companions and real sources of inspiration for me, not least in their engagement with Buddhism. This collection of poems, essays, letters, and other writings brings them together with a much wider range of writers – Diane di Prima and Philip Whalen, Anne Waldman and Kenneth Rexroth, William Burroughs and Lawrence Ferlinghetti – showing how the best minds of two generations heard, felt and responded to Buddhism in their many different ways. It’s a real treasure-house of words.

History has had mixed perceptions of Chogyam Trungpa, yet as is implicit in this book, one should not mistake great art for the artist. It is often said that to make it commercially as an artist, you need to be very assertive, yet Trungpa argues that as we insist on asserting our expectations to what we want from ourselves and others in the creative process we become blind to inspiration. He calls such a mindset one of aggression and instead advocates the creative process as being one of non-aggression.