2018-12-11
54 分钟Growing up in Oak Hill, a suburb of Dallas, Texas, in the late eighties and nineties.
My guest today, Casey Gerald, was the son of a local football star who eventually ended up having problems with addiction.
A mom who was incredibly present and alive and vibrant in Casey's life and also struggled deeply with mental illness, and the grandson of a well known pastor who founded a very large and revered church.
Through his own exploration of all of these different relationships, he awakened to a lot of truths about himself.
Part of it came to a head when he turned twelve years old, when, on December 31, 1999, at exactly midnight, something that he was told would happen, didn't happen, and he's kind of been reckoning with that.
That set him on a journey that eventually led him to find his way in the world, attend Yale, Harvard, go out into the world, do big things in business, start a nonprofit.
And one day he realized that this dream that he was living, both for himself and for others, was not, in fact, what he wanted out of his life.
And he started to question everything and re explore his most fundamental assumptions about why we're here and what this thing called life is really all about that has laid bare any beautiful new memoir called there will be no miracles here.
Really excited to share this conversation with Casey Gerald.
I'm Jonathan Fields, and this is good life project.
I was raised in sort of the Isis of Christianity.
We were a lot less violent, at least physically, but I guess there were many ways of violence.
Anyway, one of the key beliefs was that there would be a second coming of Jesus in a very material form.
And it so happened that there was a date that was assigned for this event, which was midnight, December 31, 1999.
There's also in the christian tradition, I think it's in Judaism as well, this idea that you're innocent until you turn twelve.
You can't be held accountable for what you do until you turn twelve.
So just so happened, I turned twelve in 1999.
Saw all the shit I had done.
Now, you know, the chickens were coming home to roost.
Uh oh, yeah, yeah.