100 books like Waking

This book opened my mind to the possibility of spiritual superpowers and the wealth of wisdom that lives in the ancient spiritual traditions of the world.

A little on the dense side, this amazing book blew my mind as I felt like I was transported in time to study at the feet of great masters. I was amazed by stories of miracles and incredible gifts of consciousness that had otherwise seemed only the stuff of movies and fiction.

The images were so compelling to me that I could not stop reading it. It felt like a course in deep metaphysics. And it was all a way of sharing the life story of a master teacher I truly admire and want to know everything about.

I have to say, on top of all this, it felt familiar, easy, and like a beautiful world to immerse in.

Once a mover and shaker in the Kundalini yoga world, Dyson (aka Premka) was the right-hand woman to Yogi Bhajan, the fallen guru who brought Kundalini yoga to the west in the late 1960s. The memoir chronicles Dyson’s introduction to yoga, her rise within the Kundalini yoga community, her personal (and sexual) relationship with Bhajan, and the eventual realization that she’d been betrayed. For yogis venturing out on the path, Dyson’s story underscores what all true yogis know: The real guru resides within one’s own heart. As a Kundalini yoga teacher I found Dyson’s story riveting, but it will resonate with anyone who finds themselves seeking answers outside—rather than inside—one’s self. 

I really liked this book because beautiful, blonde, former model Saidman Yee (wife of the popular yoga teacher Rodney Yee) seems so perfect on the outside that one couldn’t imagine she’d ever have had a notable problem—let alone a seizure disorder or substance abuse issues. Growing up in Indiana, one of seven kids, the author ended up posing for glamour shots and making a name for herself in the fashion world. But inside she experienced anxiety and fear of failure. Saidman Yee’s vulnerability and authenticity shine in this candid story of how yoga helped her go within and honor her true self. Wonderful yoga sequences designed by Saidman Yee are included.

True, it’s fiction, so not really a memoir at all. But it reads like one in part because it’s the spiritual journey of a likable doubting Thomas (named Otto Ringling) who thinks that all that New Age-y stuff is a bunch of malarkey (there’s also an actual journey from the east coast to North Dakota). If you’ve ever questioned anything “woo-woo,” you’ll be charmed by Otto’s unlikely travel companion—an enigmatic spiritual teacher named Volya Rinpoche. At the onset, Otto is a dry, snarky, judgmental guy but he learns to listen to his heart and accept others. I used to be a lot like Otto, so his path from doubter to a believer-of-sorts spoke to me personally. Merullo has also written sequels—involving lunch and dinner, of course.

Sometimes you hear about someone who’s experienced something truly terrible, and you think two things in quick succession: “Thank God that’s not me” and “How can anyone possibly recover from that?” Some people who find themselves contemplating the unthinkable—like, say, instant and permanent paralysis, as the main character of How to Walk Away—sink into bitterness, wallowing in their victimhood.

But some rise to meet the challenge and find richness and joy and a meaning to life that they didn’t even know they were missing.

That’s this book. It’s heartbreaking and inspiring and absolutely gorgeous.

I had to include at least one King book, I’m a big fan of King and this is one of his lesser-known books. 

I love this book because it’s a good and interesting story that hooked me from the first chapter and kept me till the end. 

But also, I am passionate about good representation (particularly disability representation) in the horror genre, I’m writing my PhD thesis on it. King is a mixed bag when it comes to good and bad representation but he does a good job in this one. Marty is a 10-year-old paraplegic boy who suspects a werewolf is in his town.

The story revolves around Marty hunting and defeating the beast. It’s a high stakes, exciting, and utterly plausible (if you suspend belief for the werewolf lol).

David had a spinal aneurysm at the age of 15, and his dreams of sports, college, and his future seemed to be halted. Yet, through faith and determination, his life took on a whole new journey full of awesome experiences, people, and lessons. Similar to Goggin’s book, this story opens up your mind as to what’s possible, what matters, and why we live.

Cronenberg’s 1996 movie adaptation (not the one that won many Oscars and is bad) captures Ballard’s sensual mechanical fetishism and apocalyptic consumerism perfectly. It is a 120-minute-long sex scene in a carousel of mangled metal. It is probably the best adaptation of prose to film I can think of, which is bolstered by the sheer strength of the book itself. Crash (again, not the 2006 one, the car crash sex one) is by far Cronenberg’s horniest feature, and that’s saying something. Uh. I didn’t mean to just talk about the movie. I should probably talk about the book. The book is very good. I’m deathly afraid of car accidents, and reading about them through Ballard’s dreamy, eroticized lens is a capital-E Experience. Truly one of my favorites.

This castaway story, about a man trapped on a concrete island under and between converging freeways on the outskirts of London, still stands the test of time.

I found it especially resonant during the imposed isolation of the global pandemic; all of us each marooned in our living rooms. The protagonist, architect Robert Maitland, has to learn to survive and thrive in reduced and restricted circumstances, and he can’t buy or build his way out of it.

When he finally discovers a way off the island he no longer really wants to leave, reminding us that we are sometimes most effectively imprisoned by our own minds and desires.  

In a world of aggregate and pre-release reviews, it’s easy to forget that one of the most important measures of a book's success is how much it stays with you in the years after you read it.

Look At Me has haunted me in the years since I read it. No other book has had a greater impact on the way I think about our perception of ourselves vs. the way the world perceives us, and how that can be manipulated and exploited.

Like many great books, knowing too much about the plot before you pick it up is going to lessen your experience, so I’m just going to say that it’s about people who have constructed new identities and covers themes of deception, and reinvention and let you discover it for yourself (and thank me later).