I’m currently in the middle of the desert, practicing what they call "desert bathing." It’s based on the Japanese practice of Shinrin-yoku , or "forest bathing"—the art of truly examining the five senses in nature. As the guide led us through these beautiful stops, my mind started doing what it does best: it went on a tangent. I started thinking to myself: *How are things named? Who decided this?* I know, I’m on a tangent again. But that’s what happens on a meditative walk. One moment you’re in the heart of the desert, and the next, you’re in a forest sitting on a rock. The whole experience so far has been fucking amazing, but I can't stop wondering: who got the right to call something what it is? Who decided a rock is a "rock"? Who decided a tree is a "tree"? We saw this little plant called a Foxtail—who the hell named it that? Sometimes, it’s good to ask questions like that. It gets the mind working, and we always want the mind working. ...