Books like The Sacred Mirror

I adore these delightfully spontaneous and deeply insightful commentaries on verses from the Tao Te Ching—compliments of spiritual teacher Byron Katie.

I’ve explored various translations of the Tao Te Ching, along with various commentaries. And this remains one of my favorites. It’s infused throughout with the understanding that the cause of all psychological suffering is believing our thoughts. As it turns out, “Don’t believe everything you think” is very good advice!

I’m guessing that Lao Tzu (the author of the Tao Te Ching) would also have very much enjoyed these commentaries on his legendary text. 

This book met me in one of the darkest seasons of my life after my second divorce.

Pema Chödrön’s voice feels like a steady heartbeat—calm, wise, and utterly human. She doesn’t promise to remove pain; she invites us to stay present with it. Every page taught me that courage isn’t the absence of fear but the willingness to face it with open eyes and a soft heart.

I return to this book whenever I need to remember that groundlessness is not failure; it can be the greatest freedom.

I love the way this book explains how our individual development contributes to the greater whole, the expansion of the collective consciousness, which is the only way the world can improve.

It’s a big topic, but I do love the way Tolle argues that our egos are the problem (in the form of our delusions and irrationality) as well as the solution (our ability to mature beyond just thinking of ourselves) to humanity. I admire how Tolle asks us to consider our complaining, criticisms, and judgments in terms of our fragile and needy ego, and how we need to take better responsibility for how we impact others.

There is a whole section on living as a performance as opposed to being authentic and true to yourself, which got me questioning myself in a constructive way. 

I so appreciate how this book provides a very clear introduction to some complex Buddhist debates regarding the nature of mind and consciousness. Specifically, Yogacara Buddhism is a practical system for identifying and transforming subconscious cognitive patterns at the root of psychological suffering. In other words, these seemingly abstract debates are not merely academic but have real-life consequences.

Yogacara Buddhism offers a path to unwinding mental-emotional patterns that have been binding us and preventing a direct encounter with the peace and joy that is our true nature. How wonderful to have this as a resource!

While William Irvine’s book introduced me to Stoic philosophy, Donald took me further into the incredible life of Roman emperor and Stoic Marcus Aurelius. This book takes you deeper into Stoic philosophy. I get asked whom I’d want to have lunch with, dead or alive, and I answer Marcus Aurelius. During his reign he was the most powerful person in the Western hemisphere. History is littered with examples that prove Lord Acton’s quip “Power corrupts; absolutely power corrupts absolutely.” Marcus is a rare exception.

I had to choose one of Mark Epstein's many books on this topic. I remember sitting on a meditation cushion and listening to him address a large group of meditators and psychotherapists. In this book he addresses Freud's view of meditation as a regressive quest for the "oceanic feeling" of the infant, but he also points out how Freud suggested an almost Zen-like method for how the psychoanalyst should pay attention to the patient. As a photographer, I was eager to read his discussion about art, meditation and the unconscious. Like all of Epstein's books, this is deeply examined and beautifully written.

In his new book, Dr. Epstein reflects on a year’s worth of selected sessions with his patients and observes how, in the incidental details of a given hour, his Buddhist background influences the way he works and reveals how a therapist can help patients cultivate the sense that there is something magical, something wonderful, and something to trust running through our lives.

It gives context for Brown’s work in determining the effects that actual past lives can have on current psychological dilemmas and using the important understanding of reincarnation and karma she learned in Japan to help patients transcend the here and now. 

I love Yalom's books of what might, in lesser hands, be termed “case studies.” I say that because Yalom is constantly writing about his work with his patients, but they never feel like a “case study” - something plodding and formulaic and one-sided. In Yalom's hands the case studies are never mere discussions of the pathologies of his patient, but rise into a magical interplay between two equals, two human beings yearning for a way to connect and heal through authentic presence, honesty, and love. If there is “classic Yalom” it is probably these books. Creatures of a Day and Loves Executioner and Other Tales of Psychotherapy are superb as well, and frankly, I tend to think of them all as parts of a whole, one big book of Yalom's shorter pieces in which he explores his work one-on-one with the hurting human beings who show up at his door.

I love this book because it actually changed my life. The book unpacks a worldview (made obvious by the title—that we are each made up of many parts and that none of them are bad), a psychological theory, and a set of personal practices.

It is the book my friends are most likely to tell me changed their lives as they tried out one of the practices and learned new things about themselves that freed them from self-judgment, self-doubt, or just a habit about themselves that was mysterious and unhelpful. There are very few books that have offered a methodology so new and so helpful that they instantly improved my life, but this one did.

As a psychologist, I know that depression is the common cold of mental illness, yet as a reader, I haven’t seen many books cover it well. This one is a recent exception.

The fact that BTS’s leader, RM, had this on his bookshelf during their Bon Voyage series may be the reason it has become an international bestseller, but Namjoon’s bookshelf aside, this memoir-meets-self-help narrative is so intimate, it almost feels pornographic.

I came for the title (tteokbokki makes me want to live too, so much so that it also makes a cameo in my own book as well) but stayed for the first-hand peek into one woman’s sessions with her therapist.