Category: Becoming - Delight for the Soul

Selecting Your Silence

1/20/2018

Dear Friends,

You haven't heard from me in a while. There is a lot of noise coming at us. And new media channels suggest that we always need to be seen and heard. Sometimes these channels add important momentum to our collective voice. Often they amplify what should be muted.

I imagine you've also had times when words feel like an unnecessary label you choose not to slap onto your experience.

Others may observe you as quiet in these times, yet it can be loud on the inside, when your silence is rooted in fear, desire, discontent, or shame. A perfect setup for the writer to write. It's been the seed for many of my blog posts.

My silence is different this season.
It’s more like the silence of a starless night.
It has edges,
that hold me safely.
Not allowing me to step into busy thought.

I have been placing more focus on wordlessness rather than words. It’s a beautiful space of mindfulness that must be cultivated. It’s a place of observation but also of direct experience.

For example, this week I came upon a hawk during a walk. I sat down at the base of the lamp post it perched upon and we stared at each other for fifteen amazing minutes. I didn't chat or narrate. I didn't want any words to come in between us and our experience.

When words break through the surface tension of silence, I’ve been cautious in choosing what I pay attention to. I do know the words that I am called to capture and share always rise up from this place of stillness. Nowhere else.

Step out of your house tonight before bed.
Into the origin of silence.
Where wind whistles.
Animals may call.
Where we are reminded of the ground of silence we were born into.
Without words, yet whole.

Blessings,
Amy

Photo Source: Potential Project

So you are back at it? It's Okay.

1/19/2017

I’m straddling life right now. Are you? Anticipating the changing of the guards. Two weeks into a new year that sets expectations that things will be different. That I should be different. Not wanting to own any big changes within me. Not wanting the changes happening out there. Feeling like I should rise up more than ever before, while I’m typing this from the comfort of my bed.

Yes, I’m psychologically straddling forward movement while digging in my heels.

My thirteen year old approached me on January 2 and said, “Mom, we never talked about New Year’s resolutions.” I must admit I consciously chose not to have this typical January conversation. Maybe it was because I’ve lost interest in setting them based on my track record. Maybe it’s because New Year’s resolutions seem to take on a different degree of importance given the backdrop of world events. It’s no longer enough to want to exercise more. I feel I should be setting loftier goals.

I love what my daughter chose for herself, “I’m going to do me. And I think you should do you, Mom.”

What a powerful idea! To focus on being your most authentic best self. Is there any better goal for the year?

So, if I take on her friendly challenge to "Do Me" then the next question is, what exactly is my most authentic self? Does authentic mean the part of ourselves that never changes? When I shine the spotlight on myself, the parts of me that come most quickly into focus have the most repetitive narrative. They are the soft part of myself that I constantly feel the need to shape and get right.

In order to "Do Me", I first have to embrace this part and polish it until it shines. I need to hold up my whimsical, nonlinear, no-revenue-making, teary-eyed, chasing inspiration, around-in-circles, self and take Kamal Ravikant’s advice to, “Love myself like my life depended on it.”

So let me ask you; can you fully own, love, even cherish the parts of yourself that seem to go around in circles? The parts of yourself that don’t change? Is it possible that these parts are supposed to be a constant because they are your authentic core?

I’m reading a fascinating book, The Fourth Turning, in which historians explain the three structures of time that have evolved, starting with Chaos, where there is no rhyme or reason to events. This quickly shifted to a Cyclical concept of time where humanity learned patterns of seasons, nature, and life cycles. In this structure, there was an honoring of past ancestors and future generations and an awareness that our lives play a part of a bigger collective journey. With the advent of industry modern man has moved into a Linear model of time where we over-focus on achievement and short-term individual betterment at the detriment of caring for the whole. It’s an interesting way to think about our own beliefs that self-improvement is necessary to be able to plot “growth” along a timeline.

What if we enter 2017 with a sense of deepening ourselves rather than changing ourselves? What if we “go back at it”, letting our sameness generate a sense of peace and wholeness, rather than resignation or frustration? If "You Do You” and “I Do Me" well then we are adding to the collective gifts of this world without having to be everything. Our cycle on this earth will bear great harvest.

This year I will love the softest parts of myself. I will tend to this love with greater commitment. I will deepen my practice of self-compassion and self-knowledge in order to grow strong in my heart. This will propel me forward in all the ways I can contribute the most from my authentic core . . . in ways that the world needs most.

My heart will find a voice. My heart will find the time. My heart will find the courage. My heart will find the feet to turn thoughts into action. This action will come from the inside out: not from setting a pre-defined goal, but instead from living moment by moment with a sense of my place in this world.

From the words of Mary Oliver, “You too have come into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled with light, and to shine.”

Blessings,
Amy

Withholding Magnificence

12/14/2015

Borghese Gallery

Azzedine Alaia’s couture gown

Magnificence is a rarely used word. Reserved for bigger than life. A display of greatness, or rather grandness, that doesn’t really fit in daily life.

Unless you travel to Rome; a city of magnificence. I recently spent time there. The pure talent of Renaissance art and sculpture that took years, sometimes hundreds of years to complete, mixed with brilliant ancient Roman architecture that still stands, layered with modern day carefully crafted cuisine and design . . . I was in awe. Each corner I turned had a small tucked away church that within, exploded with fine details.

I happened to grab one of the last days of an incredible exhibit of Azzedine Alaia’s couture gowns in the Borghese Gallery. My eyes didn’t know where to land between the carved talent of Bernini’s sculptures, the layers of gilded art covering every inch of the walls and ceilings, and the surprising creative design of Alaia's gowns in the foreground. One dress even incorporated the hide of an alligator. The stunning gowns acted like the coffee beans you sniff in between sips at wine tastings, when your senses become numb from too much consumption.

It’s hard to come home after a trip like this. My house sure isn't the Sistine Chapel. I can however gaze out of my bedroom window and see a nightly barrage of stunning sunsets that happen this time of year. Nature is a beautiful reminder that there is an innate quality to magnificence. That it may be more accessible than we think. That it comes in all shapes and sizes.

I recently attended a conference on Well-being and Mindfulness at Work. Dr.Jeremy Hunter from the Peter F. Drucker Graduate School of Management spoke about the Japanese culture, having so little, that they developed highly attuned attention to detail and created beauty within their simple lives. Think about the transformation of a piece of paper into origami.

I am starting to realize that magnificence can be small. I don’t need to reserve the word for grandeur, but planting the seeds of magnificence requires my attention and a time commitment that I’m often not willing to give. So, I withhold. I don’t allow myself enough of a horizon for the projects, ideas, or new layers of me that hold the most creative energy.

Magnificence is about creation. Not the mass produced, just-in-time kind of creation of our modern society. Magnificence requires a slower pace: the pace of the artisans who said yes to hand painting detailed frescoes on ceilings. The Maker Movement is re-establishing slow, where tinkering has a formal role and where taking the time to Do It Yourself is valued.

I was listening to the tail end of an NPR interview of a masterful musician (I wish I caught his name). He was asked if he had any advice to share with aspiring musicians. I loved his final words, “Be patient. The world is on God’s time, not yours.”

Magnificence is waiting in the wings. It is waiting for you to attune your focus . . . to rework, to relayer, to come back to the drawing board time and time again. And to know that you are not behind. You are magnificence in the making.

If I Let My Life Happen

10/4/2015

We gave my nephew a butterfly kit for his fifth birthday. It’s a bittersweet present. You watch your tiny larvae hatch, grow into caterpillars, go through a miraculous transformation, take their first flight, and then you have a choice. Do you let them fly and be free, or do you keep them in their cage, have them longer and ultimately watch them die?

When they were young, my daughters decided to keep their butterflies, and feel the heartache of each life ending. My nephew let all but one be free. And then deeply experienced the pain from his decision.

These little creatures have very little time on this earth: some species live a week or two; some a year if they are lucky to survive the increasingly difficult migration. It’s a poignant decision for a child to make, knowing that free butterflies live longer than captured ones.

Don’t we all? Yes, we should live as freely as we can. We need to feel the fleeting nature of our own lives; not to despair, but to generate the courage to leave our cage and fly.

I recently attended a writer’s workshop, and was given the prompt: If I let my life happen . . .

I couldn’t help but think of butterflies.

If I Let My Life Happen . . .
There is a butterfly on my shoulder. Its wings open and close in my ear. I don’t dare move. Yet, it’s not taking flight. It stays with me up and down the stairs. Not feeling captured or busy but entertained by my running.

Sunshine is a window away. It knows its direction but won’t go without me. So he is patient. And I hurriedly finish my work, shortening my list of to do’s enough to fly along.

We touch each piece of God’s beauty that offers nectar. Feeling into the currents of warm air that take me higher. No guide needed. Density below, warmth on my wings, and gratitude in my heart. I take flight before life is over. It’s fleeting but not too short. No sorrows. No words. No song. No need to despair.

The dust of color from my wings has worn off from full-contact living. My antennas are slowly losing sensation. My mouth is dry but smiling. My flight is sporadic. I fall away.

I fall.
I fly.
Is there a difference?
Direction is subjective.
I have spread my wings.
My life is whole.

Happy New Year

1/1/2015

It’s barely dawn. The local urban rooster has just ushered me into today. He was eager to start. Unlike most dark mornings, I am too. You can feel this weighty sliver of time. A fresh, open canvas lies before you. It’s a single day, that is just hours beyond what used to be our present . . . 2014. The number already feels stale. Our day to days have been neatly gathered into a bucket called Last Year so that we can step back and observe.

I had every intention of doing just that: reflecting on how I grew, where I’m still stuck, all my blessings, life’s markers. I gathered my coffee and journal and headed to sit by my Christmas tree (which also feels done). As I hunkered down into my couch, my eye caught a splash of vibrant purple outside my window.

A rogue tulip had barrelled out of its bulb and was reaching with all its might. It was out of the starting gates with such energy in its stillness. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. It was so sure of its direction. As I studied its jagged petals, energy grew within me too. I don’t need to reflect backwards today. I want to feel fully grounded in the space of today. I want to be purposeful with the direction of my fresh start.

I definitely have many desires, some new, many not. I have some exciting new ideas. I bet you do too! I wanted to share with you a new offering for this year, but today I’m going to just hold it, let it fully unfold, and gather the clarity and energy that comes with spaciousness and a fresh start.

Let’s channel our energies carefully. Let’s not race into the new year. Better yet, let today hold stillness. Let your intentions gather.

You don’t need to push or prioritize. Let your direction for the new year come through you. It will be natural energy, like a first morning stretch or a turn towards the sun.

No matter what time of day, if you missed your morning stretch, it's not too late.

Happy New Year!

Keeping Your Distance

7/18/2014

There’s a big difference between looking through the glass at life and being ankle deep in it.

I just came back from one of those big trips you take when you want to feel alive again. You go not just to get a break from your own knee-deep responsibilities. You hope that by stepping away from your life, you will gain clarity . . . new energy . . . new perspective.

I knew it was time for this trip to Vietnam and Cambodia with my husband. I was starting to feel a comfortable distance from life. Running on autopilot; resting in the ease of routine and habitual choices; feeling victim to the pace of my days; procrastinating; observing my life rather than being fully in it. I even felt distant from my own heart.

So off to a far away land. Immediately the heat, smells, sites and flavors woke up my senses. And then my heart broke open . . . seeing the pain of poverty mile after mile . . . yet feeling the peace behind the eyes and the smiles of everyone in my path.

Each day I had greater desire to get closer to the people, to be deeper in their worlds. I would look out of the car window at the rice paddies as we sped along, watching the back breaking work of the straw hatted workers, curious about how rice is grown and harvested. My desire for a perfect photo for my walls shifted to wanting to experience the feeling of being in the rice paddies myself. I became obsessed with the idea. But what was I going to do? Tell our driver to stop the car and march out through the wet fields and saddle up next to a farmer?

Yes. That was what I was going to do. We were on a small dirt road in the scorching heat of the afternoon. I found the courage to verbalize my request, “Would it be possible for me to plant some rice?” Our guide turned his head with a wide grin. A minute later my shoes were off, and three dark faces with bright bright eyes were welcoming me to join them. I slowly stepped into the slippery mud and sank to my ankles. A child like energy burst within me as I felt the mud between my toes. I was handed my own bunch of young rice sproutings that had been pulled by hand just to replant them again evenly in order to maximize the harvest. One by one I pushed the small stem deep into the clay like earth, being coached on the right distance between plantings. The fully clothed ladies cackled under their hats. It was a joyful moment for all of us. I could have stayed there all afternoon, ankle deep in life.

I’m back now. Determined to feel the deep texture of my life and the hearts and desires of those in my daily path. I’m done with the distance that makes us numb to others and keeps life safe and easy.

What distance are you keeping? Why? What might you gain by rolling down the window, getting a little muddy, allowing a new closeness in your life?

Yearning

1/11/2014

What three words described your 2013? Quickly -- top of mind. I'd love to know.

On New Year’s Eve, in a circle of friends and family, we took turns seeing what words bubbled up to the surface. Challenging, exhilarating, progress, complicated, sunny, thankful, persevering were a few.

This morning my own fourth word came forward: Yearning. Was yearning part of your year too?

Looking back, I had very specific chapters with very specific desires. I also had an overarching fuzzy sense of yearning that I know sometimes felt restless or stagnant; other times it propelled me forward, even though I can’t name where I landed. Yearning can be intense. It produces energy inside of us that seeps into the world.

This week my yoga teacher, Sean Haleen, shared the yogic philosophy that we are constantly creating, sustaining or destroying. I started to think about which category yearning falls into.

I believe yearning can hold any of these energies. Looking back on your year, did you act on any desires that brought something positive into the world or brought good energy to those around you?

How much energy did you expend to protect or maintain something about yourself or something sacred to you. Most importantly, can you see when going towards your yearnings were at the cost or destruction of others?

Let me give you a simple example. This week I had a huge yearning to clean, purge and start fresh in the new year. I became more and more intense as I pushed my daughters to be a part of the one-day house cleansing. It was a very real yearning that had been brewing within me.

My youngest daughter knows when this yearning surfaces and always asks that I at least let her shut her bedroom door while she cleans (so she doesn’t absorb my energy). I couldn’t help myself. I had to check her progress. I knocked to ask permission. On her dresser top, she strategically piled a bunch of her stuff onto a tray.

I eyed a hammer and gently asked, "Aria do you need this hammer or can I take it downstairs?"

She barked back with a twinkle in her eye, "Yes I need my hammer to hit you over the head when I don't like your parenting style!"

My desire to create a fresh start, was actually more destructive than productive. The only thing I was creating was stress in my daughter.

This is a natural time to start moving your yearnings forward with fresh hope and energy.

My wish for you is to live out your yearnings in ways that feel empowering, purposeful, fun, and brave . . . to live out your yearnings in ways that mindfully feed life around you and nurture what you treasure most.

Blessing in 2014!

Peace Chasers

11/19/2013

It was a rare peaceful moment. All the day’s work was neatly stacked on my desk and in my mind. The driving was over. Although dinner was in front of me and my daughter and a friend were madly baking in the kitchen, I found myself sitting on my bed, chatting with a friend behind a closed door.

Our conversation veered from decisions and stresses to emotions and desires. Then Jenna said, “I just want to live a life with peace for my family and for me.”

Yes. The sentence sunk in and settled deep.

There is so much buzz about happiness right now: choosing it, raising it, hardwiring it; but I’m voting for peace. Peace has a different quality about it. It’s a bit more weighty. I imagine grounding in peace, like lying on the expanse of sand at Ocean Beach.

We continued to toss around the complexity of our lives and it became apparent to both of us that you cannot chase peace. The very act of pushing your way towards it removes the prize.

The times when we most intensely seek peace is often when there is an underlying change that needs to happen. The focus of my decade of corporate change management work was always to move people and organizations through a change as fast as possible with minimal disruption.

But the more I focus on personal change, I understand that sitting in the space of disruption is meaningful time spent, as unpeaceful as it feels.

This week I spoke with author Dr. Susan Plummer about her new book Deep Change. She outlines a fascinating seven-stage process on the journey of deep personal change. Right smack in the middle of the journey is the shift of The Stilling:

“Where we arrive at the threshold between our known selves and world and what can feel like nothingness, with no new horizon in sight, suspended between two ways of being. In this state we wait, with our imaginations stilled, open to the unknown yet unaware of what is to come in the future.”

I breathed a sigh of relief while reading these words that put shape to a nebulous unsettling space. Peace percolates from within our place of deep knowing. You can’t race to or push through or chase after it. Connecting to your powerful inner rudder requires stillness.

And then with your compass in hand, peace can mean action: big, bold, uncomfortable, risky action . . . that embraces the change that's been brewing and brings you that freedom known as peace.

Ease Versus Wonder

9/22/2013

I’ve been slipping in the Wonder department lately . . . all in the name of Ease. Do you know what I mean? Let me put it this way.

Would you like your life to be easier?

What if I gave you the choice: Would you rather your life be easier or more wondrous?

What does more wondrous mean to you? I'd love to know.

I have a hunch that the idea of adding wonder to your world upped the ante. After all, “What’s so great about Easy?”, my favorite yoga teacher Charu often asks. Yet often we wait for life to ease up before allowing ourselves to think bigger about a more deliciously fulfilling way of living.

When we are faced with ease versus wonder, ease often wins. A simple example in my own life triggered this topic for me. I faced a ten hour road trip on Labor Day weekend that should have been five. It almost didn’t happen. My reward was a midnight shooting star extravaganza while soaking in a natural hot spring pool. Wouldn’t have missed it for the world, yet I almost did. The battle against traffic almost sent me in a U-turn back to life as usual.

And then there are the more meaty parts of life that you may face. Do you make the investment to get a degree or certification in order to grow in a discipline you love? Do you quit a job to seek a more fulfilling way to earn and contribute? Do you move to a different city towards a dream?

I heard an interesting lecture by psychologist Kelly McGonigal, How to Make Stress Your Friend. She ends by saying, “Chasing meaning is better for your life than avoiding discomfort.”

Somewhere in between weekend plans and life plans there is a space that calls us to move forward. And when we feel we are moving on autopilot, I believe we have an opportunity to grab the steering wheel towards a more meaningful path.

So, let’s go back to the questions of ease and wonder. Let me rephrase them:

What does ease feel like to you?

Could it be sureness, fulfillment, commitment, energy?

What does wonder feel like to you?

Could it be a sense of promise, mystery, stretching, delight, possibility?

Can you invite in more wonder AND ease, at the same time, just by increasing your ability to connect with these feelings? Can you find the calm and sureness within you to handle life’s grind? It will give you more capacity for wonder: to take in the uniqueness of each day; to go after what quietly delights you; to take action in the direction of unknown possibility and reward; to seek your shooting star and feel the awe that awaits you.

Widen Your Lens

8/27/2013

We all have it. That part of our lives or ourselves that we look at . . . over and over again. It’s a place of question or discontent. It’s a place of focus, but not clarity. And often, it’s a place of limitation.

Have you noticed the more intense you are about finding clarity, the more elusive it can become? So you take a step back.

Summer is a natural time of year to give ourselves a little more space to see things differently. Did you hope for a new angle on an old part of you while you were poolside, or beachside, or lakeside this summer? Did being in nature help you to feel more expansive?

I always take my daughters to Pennsylvania to be with my family. I purposefully didn’t bring my laptop, took a break from my blog, and went with the intention to break some cycles and get a fresh perspective.

Creating distance from our swirling cycles can be the break we need. But I learned from this summer, that stepping back isn’t enough.

You know those moments when you are trying to take a picture of what’s in front of you and you can’t fit it in the frame of your camera? You zoom out, step back, and then surrender to the fact that what you are experiencing can’t be captured.

A few weeks ago my sister and I took my parents to New York City to celebrate their wedding anniversary. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t capture the immensity of the cityscape, the energy of the lights at Time Square, or the impact of the 9-11 Memorial. Life in front of me was always more expansive than my lens.

I was thinking on the train ride back about the desire I’ve felt to expand my perspective of my own life. I was reminded that no matter how much distance we give ourselves. No matter how many angles we try to create by flipping the situation, there is still a frame we are working within and it gives us limits that become our world.

On the last day in the Big Apple my daughter showed me the nifty panoramic button on my iPhone just in time to get a shot of the freshly scrubbed Grand Central Station on its 100 year anniversary. It’s a very cool technique that requires you to be very still and slow as you sweep your camera across the full horizon in front of you.

I am ready to put down my camera now. Summer is wrapping up. It’s a natural time to dig back into life, but I don’t want to become myopic. Let’s remember to:

Shift your eyes from the object you are focusing on to see the edges of habit you are operating within.

Keep stepping back in order to notice when your back hits a wall of limitation.

Then hit that panoramic button to find a more expansive horizon of possibilities.

Remember that what life presents to you is more than you can ever capture.

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Amy Tirion
About Me
Advocate for Stillness, Seeker of Inspiration, Playful Mom, Lover of Creativity, Still Learning, Believer in Women, Founder of Delight for the Soul

Check Out My New Book Knowing Beautiful:
A New Bedtime Story for Women

Becoming
This blog is an invitation to stop. Breathe. And tap into the part of you that craves more space, inspiration, and nurturing. It captures the writings from my Delight for the Soul Newsletter. They are personal moments of reflection, inspiration, and questioning that focus on Being rather than Doing. It's a direction we are all invited to go in, as we live deeply and do less. The more we focus on being, the more delighted we become . . . and the more becoming we are.

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