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Withholding Magnificence

12/14/2015

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Borghese Gallery
PictureAzzedine 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.

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Showing Up

9/15/2015

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Darkness had settled in for the night and the desert temperature was falling.  It was my first time at Burning Man, a festival devoted to acts of gift giving, self expression and community that is “too hard to describe”. After repeatedly hearing, ”You just have to experience it”, I decided it was time.

One night my husband and I found ourselves overwhelmed by the sensory explosion. There were no longer any visible paths to the mile-wide center, known as the Playa.  We had to lift our bicycles over our heads and step through the sea of bikes that appeared, chasing the big name DJ line up.  We heard there was a Tiki Bar at the fence, the outermost barrier of Burning Man's temporary city. So we put on our goggles and started to peddle into the darkness, away from the carnival of lights and sounds.  

There are no markings in the desert at night. It’s an incredibly freeing experience to bike as fast and as far as you want, knowing the small fence will protect you from the desire to peddle forever. My hands started to chill against the handle bars; still no sign of our destination.

Then a small glowing light came into view.  After another ten minutes we found ourselves standing at a booth just large enough for the bartender to sit on a cooler. 

“Welcome to the Dusty Pineapple. We like to say the drinks are average but the music’s great; however, I’m having some trouble with the music,” the bartender explained as he wiggled the wires producing sporadic sound.

We were welcomed with a hug and handed a half-filled cup of rum and warm coke. We were delighted! His welcome was elixir enough. The bartender, affectionately named Dad, was the leader of a small camp of people who come in from all over the country to man the Tiki Bar. This year he didn’t think he could make it, but decided he had to show up, so he boarded a plane from South America.

Dad settled back onto his perch, “I’m so humbled that you came out here. Usually if eight people come it’s a good night!”

And there he sat . . .  in the vast darkness . . . waiting with a gift . . . for those who show up.

A huge wave of gratitude came over me. Biking the miles home, tears chilled my cheeks as I thought about the lesson I had received.

We wake up every morning and go to bed each night.  In between there is a vast space of hours that is ours whether we show up or not.  Showing up isn’t easy. It takes energy and commitment.  It means not shrinking when we bump up against discomfort; connecting again and again with our inherent value so that we share the best part of ourselves with others; and it means trusting enough to loosen our grip so that the gravity of life’s flow can pull us in the direction we are meant to follow.

There are a lot of ways to experience Burning Man.  For me, it was the surprising, magical way people showed up for each other in this self proclaimed “do-ocracy” that makes this grand heart-centered experiment worth the drive, the dust, the noise and the heat. I want to continue to explore open hearted living. Want to join me?

Leave your emotional armor at the gate.

Replace judgement with hugs.

Trust that others have your back.

Tune into the single experience we all share on this earth.

And then show up for others in the most generous, tender, wondrous way you can.

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When There's Nowhere Else to Go

8/9/2015

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Source: Amy Tirion, Santorini, Greece
We are a forward moving and thinking culture.  We’ve been conditioned to have a plan in our pocket at all times; our eye on the horizon and a known path to get there. The idea of having nowhere else to go can conjure up images of a dead end, being trapped or stagnant.  Why does lack of forward movement feel unsettling or unnatural? Is it possible to gaze at the horizon with all of its promise without needing to chase it? 

My family just had a beautiful exercise in planning ahead and being completely present simultaneously. We recently returned from our first European vacation.  I wistfully observed us as a family and wished we could always operate in this balanced state of valuing each day.

One afternoon as we boarded a ferry in Greece, my younger daughter asked, “How long is the ferry ride?”

I answered, “Three hours,” expecting a moan of frustration when she learned what was between her and the next destination.

To my surprise she replied, “Oh good!  I just love to just sit and do nothing.” At that point we had nowhere else to go, yet we were still on our journey.  She has always been one of my greatest teachers.

When we arrived in Santorini, we found one of the most magical places on earth.  Do add it to your bucket list! This crescent shaped Greek island was born from a gigantic volcanic eruption that left only a massive rim jetting up from the sea. As you climb from the port to the highest tips of the towns, you ascend into the clouds.  We stepped through the gate of our hotel, and immediately were on the cliff’s edge.  We felt this dense peace, looked down at the silent sparkling sea miles below, and for a brief moment believed we were in heaven.

Heaven has varied and arguable definitions, but in Santorini, it’s undeniable. You have to catch your breath.  It’s the inhale you forgot to take when your eyes first cast out onto the expansive horizon far below against the sheer cliffs ripped into indescribable form.

You quiet to whispers.  And your brain . . . well, it rests.  There is nowhere else to go.

For two sweet days we experienced this pure peace that entered into our cells, creating expansiveness within us as infinite as our view. 

I'm back now, without the view, but with new resolve to hold my gaze. Summer has these moments for each of us: time in the sweetness of nature; in a vacation destination never seen before, or in a well-loved familiar spot to soak in the long sunlit days.  Daily life is also full of points in time when we are meant to sit still in between destinations.  May you find heaven in these moments.  May they teach you how to live in peace, being fully present, without striving or planning.  May you feel whole and know that you can rest . . . you have arrived . . . that there is no where else to go.
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When you Admire Up Close

5/2/2015

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Artist: LeeAnn Brook
Have you noticed how often you admire from afar?  Someone’s shoes, home, smile, kindness, parenting, courage, intelligence, accomplishments, intuition, talent . . .   It can show up in shades of pure awe to downright jealousy. Admiration is an energy. It bubbles up inside of us so quickly that I believe its source is not in your head, but rather somewhere in between your heart and your gut.  

Our gut holds the mixed-up emotions.  “I want to be this too.” Comparison. Withholding. Competition. Scarcity.

Our heart shows up pure. Inspired. Grateful to experience the other and learn from them. Curious how they embody what they do.  Delighted in what you see.  Desirous . . . yes.  But mudita is at the core of heart centered admiration.

Mudita is Sanskrit word for unselfish joy.  This beautiful Buddhist practice is cultivated when we can experience another’s happiness and blessings without envy.  Its foundation lies in our ability to see the abundance of life’s blessings, regardless of whether they shower us or others.

This can feel like an unnatural place to land when we’ve been conditioned to believe in the scarcity of a hyper-competitive world.  I have two suggestions to find mudita.  

Last night my meditation teacher shared his grounded response to whatever life delivers, “Right now, this is perfect.”  If that is a hard sentence to form, try “imperfectly perfect”. It’s a trusting, neutral place to receive our present moment and those of others in their own journeys.

And then there is the opportunity to admire up close, rather than from afar.  The more distance there is between you and your admiration, the more space there is for your gut and head to get involved. A few examples: when you are eyeing up a woman’s shoes, give her a compliment; pay attention to the ease with which co-worker accomplishes a task and tell him; when you observe a friend starting a new chapter in life, articulate what inspires you about their momentum.

Recently I received an email about an art exhibit.  The artist’s work drew me in so deeply I decided to reach out and let her know.  And here’s where the beauty of mudita unfolds. We talked, connected, and became inspired to offer a class together!  Life blossomed.

Withheld admiration is not just wasted energy, it’s life force stopped in its tracks. During this new spring season, tune in and let your heart deliver fresh energy to others by sharing all that you admire and love.    




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Finding Harmony

1/17/2015

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We were about to head home.  It had been a sweet excursion for my sister and me: a day of adventure and play at a full day yoga festival.  It was one of those backdrops that made you feel free, happy, a bit younger, definitely more alive.  After hours of yoga, good food, top-notch people watching and plenty of giggles we headed toward the exit signs but were pulled to a doorway releasing lovely music into the night air.

Inside we found an intimate setting of just a few folks sprawled out on a hodge podge of oriental rugs, sinking into the delicate guitar notes of a promising performance.  Both musicians seemed to have that unspoken language that many siblings hold, that gave them a natural ebb and flow.

Right as we settled in they stopped abruptly, asked for an adjustment to one of the amplifiers, tried it out and started the song over.

Happy to hear it again, we listened with new familiarity, as the two women started to add lyrics.  But again, it only took a few moments before the artists slowed to a stop and asked for more vocals and less on the guitars.

Jill and I decided, since the audience was small, that we should encourage them with our big smiles and head nods, to continue with the show.  They sounded perfect to us.

But our laymen ears and enthusiastic swaying wasn’t enough.  Again, they couldn’t get through the song.  Both frustration and sympathy bubbled within me.  Their lovely voices teased us. Even during their fine tuning, their harmony lifted the spirits in the room.

It started to feel like a late night skit.  As we stood up to leave one of the artists spoke into the mic, “We are Ma Muse.  Please come back at 9 for our concert!”

Unknowingly, we had showed up for their soundcheck session! 

With a newly purchased CD and fresh laughter we listened to their beautiful harmony the whole way home.

Now there are two possible morals to this story.  I will let you decide which one is for you.

For those feeling discord in life, harmony is an exercise of paying careful attention to both the highs and lows, the light and the dark.  You cannot race to harmony. It is worth your time and scrutiny to find that sweet balance of notes that will bring you fulfillment and peace in life.

For the perfectionists, the world may be on the edge of its seat, waiting for you to stop your soundcheck and to share your voice, your talents, your contribution. 

I'd love to know which ending you are drawn to.  
Enjoy sinking deep into harmony with Ma Muse. 
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Happy New Year

1/1/2015

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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!


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Do You Own Your Inspiration?

10/31/2014

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Hawk Hill, San Francisco

I am in the inspiration business.  It is hard to say out loud; especially at cocktail parties.  It can feel insignificant when facing the question, “What do you do?”

Today I’m deciding to own it because this is what I know:

Our world needs inspiration right now. 

Very few of us have inspiration practices, 

Yet inspiration is powerful energy.

It puts you in a place of possibility. 

Inspiration triggers your synapses and sharpens your focus.

It makes you want to step into action,

With new strength and sureness.

Inspiration also softens you.  

It’s hard to feel inspired and critical of yourself at the same time.  

Inspiration connects you with that higher vibration of knowing that there is a heart pulsing that is bigger than any of us,

That beauty and good unfolds, no matter how heavy our feet feel on the ground.

I invite you to practice finding and feeling inspired.  Lifting your own spirit is not a fluff assignment.  It is significant because when you are inspired you have more to offer the world.



 What are your inspiration practices? I'd love to know. 
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Keeping Your Distance

7/18/2014

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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?




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Ease Versus Wonder

9/22/2013

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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.
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Widen Your Lens

8/27/2013

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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. 
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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

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    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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