I’ve noticed, even in my neighborhood, shorter tempers and a lack of everyday civility toward others. I wonder: are we hopeless? And if so, how can we bring hope back?
I delight when I see different disciplines intersecting along the same subject. The writers I’ve highlighted in this post reach for authentic well-being and happiness in work and life.
To live authentically, to pursue truly one’s heart’s desire is the bravest act of all.
This blog’s focus is on transitions. Our society, the world, is not yet through the transition of Covid. In any life transition, it’s important to stand apart from the emotion—anxiety, fear, frustration—that the time incites. One way to do this is through a regular practice of silence, where you can observe what emotions are present.
As adults, we have the freedom to choose authenticity. First comes awareness of an unhealthy attachment. Then comes a choice and movement. When you choose to be true to yourself, the passageway can feel incredibly lonely. But if you pay attention to this intrinsic knowing, a more authentic way will present itself.
Joy shapes us in ways we can’t anticipate. It points us in directions we may not have considered. Joy brings us striking ideas and startling inner direction.
In the midst of transition, keeping spacious mornings allows room for new ideas and courageous actions.
My grandmother was dying. I remember driving to sit with her, to talk and sing to her, to pray for her. Knowing that she was between worlds was to experience liminal space.
As parents, we expect a lot of our children and I want to pause when I feel those expectations coming up. I’d like to trust this instead: my kids will find their way. It will not be my way. It will be their way.
The symbolic nature of ritual signals a change to our psyches. This is what we desire. This is what we treasure, and this is what we’re claiming.