What first grade taught me about the future of humanity.

Before I understood the world’s divisions, I learned a simple rhythm in a book called Let’s Read: He, She, We, Me, Be. Decades later, I’ve realized these aren't just words for literacy; they are the architecture of our community…

In our early days, we were still figuring out what it meant to be "a temple for the curious." We once found ourselves scrambling at the last minute to hide our wine glasses in the kitchen cupboards to honor a guest speaker’s tradition. This is the story of that "rookie" moment, and what it taught us about the quiet, small pivots that actually move the needle on global peace.

Part of "exploring humanity" means being open to the unexpected, even when the unexpected is a Buddhist speaker determined to convert the entire room. This is the story of how we stuck to our Core Agreements, kept eating our homemade potluck, and learned that global peace isn’t about everyone agreeing; it’s about how you stay at the table when someone is convinced you're wrong.

Growing up in the Hare Krishna movement made me deeply curious about the humanity behind our prayers. Standing under the arches of St. Patrick’s Cathedral in 2000, I was struck by a vision of a "temple for the curious"—a sacred, neutral ground where people of all paths could safely explore and hold vigil without the weight of dogma. Alongside my friend Felena, I founded GodLuck to soften the walls between us through the three things that actually move the needle on global peace: learning, eating, and being friends.

After 9/11, we watched the world pivot from unity to a deep, shocking division. It was a shock to our collective soul that we could go from neighbors to "others" so quickly. At the GodLuck Club, we practice a radical kind of diplomacy: using the dinner table to humanize the stranger. Because while it’s easy to hate a concept, it’s nearly impossible to hate the person sitting across from you once you understand their story. Peace, love, and friendship may have had a moment in the 1960s, but they are eternal and we’re still practicing.