Episodes
Reading the feed…
Reading the feed…
A pilgrim in downtown Austin, Texas. Clear skies. Eighty degrees. Nearly four miles through the heart of the city. A walk carried home from New Mexico, still turning. About the emptiness that makes a bowl useful. About honoring the paths walked before us. About the curiosity we are born with and slowly forget. The walker becomes a guide. Walk: https://plgr.im/ep12 — returns to the trail on August 15, 2036
Two pilgrims in downtown Austin. Clear. Eighty-nine degrees. Nearly four miles, with the turns left to chance. They set an intention and let randomness choose the route. About the story the mind writes and then believes. About pausing to ask what story you are telling, and whether it could be told another way. About walking past a rented room and an old yoga studio, now luxury condos — the same street in a different light. About graffiti on a fence, and the narratives we lay over things that carry none. About a scooter that said please help me up, and stopping to lift it. About letting randomn
A pilgrim in Austin, Texas. Partly cloudy. Ninety-two degrees of dry heat. Three kilometers, and a check-in after a while away. They'd been heads-down building — deep in the Pilgrim app with Claude, turning a swarm of agents loose on the code until the tokens ran dry. About a model that launched and was pulled inside a week. About a tool closed to anyone who couldn't prove where they were born. About one country closing its source while another opens theirs, and who that leaves to set the direction. About Fight Club, a duvet, and the things we buy that we never really wanted. New projects, and
Two pilgrims in The Domain, Texas. Overcast and seventy-seven degrees. Three kilometers through a district of shops and open walkways. Two old friends, one who speaks in visions, in one long unbroken conversation. It opened with pilgrimage as the exit from life's normality. About sauntering instead of hiking, and the ground John Muir called holy. About wandering versus the destination, and how the detours hold the treasure. About GPS, and the part of the brain that forgets how to find its own way. About the inner compass — the inner CEO, the disruptive manager, the inner lobbyist. About mantra
Two pilgrims in Las Vegas, Nevada. Wind and seventy-seven degrees. Three and a half kilometers up the Basin Trail at Red Rock. An old friend showed up in new terrain. They told the story of a fourteen day hike pushed into ten. About no itinerary, only the day and what it asks. About barefoot running and finger toe shoes. About Mars and Antarctica and the loneliness of leisure. About rattlesnake territory and the long way around White Sands. Some walks happen because the company is the point. Walk: https://plgr.im/ep8 — returns to the trail on May 26, 2027
A pilgrim in Austin, Texas. Overcast sky. Eighty degrees. Three kilometers along a lake. They told the story of a season of building. About a book on noticing. About a spiral of hexagons that begins at zero. About a community that walks together once a month. About a wave that is already here. The only way forward is to surf. Walk: https://plgr.im/ep7 — returns to the trail on May 5, 2027
Two pilgrims in Austin, Texas. Overcast and warm. Less than a mile in the heat. They talked about whether AI is conscious. About free will being five percent and as big as heaven and earth. About a temple in Taiwan where the self disappeared on the fourth floor. About awakening as death by ten thousand cuts. About the events that pass. About the field of awareness that does not. Walk: https://plgr.im/ep6 — returns to the trail on April 24, 2027
A pilgrim in Austin, Texas. Wind by the lake. Two kilometers on a favorite secluded path. They talked about photos pinned to a path as relics. About the endless chase for digits on a screen. About the old teaching. To know there is enough. About the wave of AI that no one can stop. About the discernment that remains. We do not stop the ocean. We flow with life. Walk: https://plgr.im/ep5 — returns to the trail on April 17, 2027
Two pilgrims in Downtown, Texas. Overcast. Twenty-nine degrees. Four and a half kilometers of reunion talk. They traced the edge of what AI can reach and what it cannot. They said the soul is not a transformer. That the tree is the universe, and the word for tree is not. That the child inside everyone only wants to play. That forgetting to play is the recipe for death. Remember the light inside. Walk: https://plgr.im/ep4 — returns to the trail on April 14, 2027
A pilgrim in Austin, Texas. Overcast sky. Drizzle and twenty-five degrees. Five kilometers along a lake. They came back from a mushroom journey carrying questions. About sacred fire and the smallest kindling. About the spiral that always returns to the beginning. About the one piece at the center of every story, which turns out to be nothing. We are actors in a divine comedy who forgot we are in a play. The treasure was always where we started. Walk: https://plgr.im/ep3 — returns to the trail on April 11, 2027
Two pilgrims in Austin, Texas. Wind and warmth. Three and a half kilometers along a lake. They talked about memory and forgetting. About ego and flow. About circles that spiral upward. Some of the most important things will never teach. They can only be walked. Walk: https://plgr.im/ep2 — returns to the trail on June 29, 2026
A pilgrim in Austin, Texas. Overcast sky. Thirty degrees. Four kilometers along a lake. They had a story to tell. Three words became an idea. The idea became an app. The app became this. No one asked them to build it. They just did. That is already more than most people managed today. Walk: https://plgr.im/ep1 — returns to the trail on June 29, 2026
