Expand, not contract

This came to me during a meditation a few weeks back, and it’s felt right as I’ve continued to move through life. (Or, as I’ve let life move through me? Have you heard that concept before, that we’re the universe experiencing being human? Or, we are the universe experiencing itself? I think Neil deGrasse Tyson said it…)

It’s this idea, this awareness, of how when something new arises, a change, we—humans, animals, all of us—have the natural reaction to contract. To hide, to go inward, to shy away from. It’s a form of a protection. It’s also a form of rejection, I think. Of rejection of something that may be a wonderful thing. Different can mean scary, but not bad. It can be good scary. Exciting. (My friend and I started to say “excitey.”)

I’ve heard this concept referenced often in money consciousness, too. Rather than saying, for example, I want to do this (a trip, a career change, a move), so I need to save money, it’s instead about opening up to attracting in more. Creating space to welcome in the resources and opportunities, an act of trust.

So, I remind myself. Be aware of where and when you contract, maybe explore why. Gently, curiously. Consider, instead expanding into it. Even consider considering a different initial reaction is expansion in itself.

May we continue to expand, to ripple, to “flow… in ever widening rings of being,” like Rumi says.

Expand, not contract. Abundance, and not lack.

Life is meant to be enjoyed

Over the past years I’ve come into the belief that life is meant to be enjoyed, and that life doesn’t have to be hard; in fact, life is meant to be enjoyed; it’s meant to be easy, and it’s meant to flow.

It felt like a big, obvious secret to discover, or more like, rediscover, because I think it’s a concept that I think we’re born knowing and, ideally, grow up embodying as freewheeling, playful, imaginative, open children. Then, most of us lose it or are convinced out of it, convinced otherwise, through this conditioned concept of “real life,” and the “real world” and such. (Especially in the U.S., I think! A country founded on the Puritan work ethic, where children were treated as “little adults,” where this world was a necessary, get-through-it earthly stopover to show just how worthy of deliverance to heaven in the afterlife, or whatever.) For more on this, too, I super, super recommend don Miguel Ruiz’s writings of Toltec teachings, like The Four Agreements, which talk about “the dream of the planet.”

I remember hearing at one point that…

Buddha’s famous quote “life is suffering,” is actually a imprecise translation. It’s more so that, “life is enduring,” and it speaks to the idea of the continuity, the forever flow of life.

It’s not a justification for suffering; not as setting ourselves up to expect that whole human experience to be that way. (And that’s the interesting thing about translation; it reveals so much about the values and energy of a culture. I loved reading and writing about this concept, especially in relation to Jorge Luis Borges’ writing on it when I studied Spanish literature in college. An aside.) I heard that so long ago I can’t remember when or from whom, but it’s stayed with my powerfully, “empowerfully,” I’ll invent a word to say, since.

So, here they are, the big secrets of life as I’ve intuited and discovered them so far, through my one narrow, singular and also somehow universal (as we all are!) lived experience.

  1. Life is meant to be enjoyed

  2. Life doesn’t have to be hard—in fact, life is meant to be easy, easeful


For Dawn, whose name alone represents the coming of light, and who has so gently and sweetly guided me through so much of my own spiritual exploration.

Let it all fall into place

Fallen into fall, after all, or something! The turning, vibrant, dropping leaves on my recent East Coast visit had me feeling more of an air of surrender, and thinking about the grandness of allowing. Of how by allowing things to be, to fall as they may, things fall into place. That releasing my grip of control—and control comes from fear—allows things to be as they’re meant to be. And what results has repeatedly shown me, and continues to show me, is better than I ever could have imagined, anything that I could have controlled into creation.

Let go, and let it all fall into place. The trees know. And they look so beautiful doing it, too.

Let it all fall away

I’ve realized recently that I don’t care about a lot of things. Like things I know don’t matter, but I was still giving thought, energy and attention to. (All of which would be much better invested elsewhere, or even nowhere, in nothing). Things like ruminating on whether xyz was the right choice when I know it makes no difference now because we’re in the now. Or things that don’t really matter much because they actually don’t align with my values or interests or what I want I want to be part of or have be part of me.

I was on the East Coast recently and the leaves were “peaking;” a beautiful decay and array of falling colors, and that felt like a symbolic little invitation to just let things fall that I don’t need, that I don’t care about much, after all. Let them fall away and be absorbed into the earth and make way for new growth. And letting them go may make me feel bare for a little bit, but that’s the only way to make space for what’s coming next. And it’s kind of nice to just be out there in this new way, anyway, feeling it all, open, ready for whatever.

Who do I want to be?

Halloween is in the air and on the mind because it’s Friday night of Halloweekend and I’m going to a friend’s birthday soon. It’s such a fun energy and time, always—a time where we all get to ask ourselves, who do I want to be? Or, what? And get to ask each other, What are you going to be??

Of course I’ve made this spiritual/philosophical/whatever over dinner just now, and realized that often when I check in with myself, whether in reflection, like journaling, or preparation, like heading into a meeting, day or outing, I’m asking myself: Who do I want to be? Who do I want to be in this moment, how do I want to be? How do I want to show up?

So, boo, Halloween is kind of all the time and this little note is my way of reminding myself. And I like that idea; it makes the possibility and impermanence of a holiday where you can be anything for a time feel like forever fun.

May we always know our worth

A good friend of mine at work, who is an amazing human and amazing at her job (and does even more, like providing important and heartfelt support for diversity, equity and inclusion programs) was recently promoted. After she shared the news, I asked her how she was feeling, and she said, “Like it was well deserved!” And I loved that. Because it was. And because I realized how uncommon it is to hear women feel empowered to respond like that, without the learned, conditioned behavior of feeling like they, we, have to divert attention from ourselves, unnecessarily humble ourselves in what is a shining moment. “Yesss!” I responded. “May we always know our worth!” She, we deserved to honor and celebrate that. Her promotion, her worth.

May we always know our worth. (Especially in the workplace, as women!) And may we always remember that our worth is intrinsic and whole, always, without need to be proven or earned.

(But, also, like, an aside: We live and work in capitalism and I always tell people, especially women and people of the non-dominant corporate profile, ie: not a cisgender, hetero-presenting white male, to negotiate the first offer because when I managed a large team it was always the men, especially and predominantly of the dominant class, who always asked for more.)


For Kaitlin—keep shining, Leo star!

Five Breaths (And no more rush)

I decided a little while ago that I am done rushing. It feels terrible, it sets my body into an alarmed state, and it doesn’t actually help me get anywhere any more quickly. (As one of my meditation teachers at The Spring Meditation says, there is a difference between moving quickly and “rushing.”)

That decision has also made me realize how much unnecessary hurry I add into my days. Eating quickly, jumping from one thing to the next, etc. Rushing less, and also hurrying less, means giving myself more time. Time to get ready, time in transition. Habits can be hard to break (of courseee), so I’ve found something to give myself for those moments: Five breaths.

Five breaths, for me, for the moment, right here, right there.

Boundaries are a concentration of power

I say this to myself when setting a boundary, which usually involves saying no, feels difficult, maybe even a little scary. That saying no to one thing automatically means saying yes, and giving, to something else, even if that’s as simple (and also profound, I’ve found) as giving time back to oneself.

Boundaries are a concentration of power.