More on Shapes

I wrote some thoughts on the shapes that make up a life. Looking at the longitude if dep time tells us that these shapes will shift and change. The true shape of life is shapeless.

Yet what if the shape of a day? How do we hold that — a timeframe that is measureable, and that we experience often? I found myself in this inquiry today. What came to me was that the shape is informed by a few categories:

  • Ground and Settle: Both in the form of opening the day, as well as a space to return to again, and again, this means to create the inner space to move through the day with foundation.
  • Produce: This is about letting the energy that’s moving through me generate itself in a form — this might be writing or doing my work; perhaps it’s sketching.
  • Learn: Stay fresh, let something in, expand.
  • Move: Engage the body regularly, feel it and let the energy within it express itself.
  • Connect: to Self, others, and the world.

As I sit with these, I see how my day can flex and flow in a way that is nourishing, and supporting the journey I’m on.

Curious to see how this shape shifts.



I’m coming off of a couple of very busy days, full of client work. It’s work that has rooted its way into my brain and is, if I’m honest, getting in the way of my relaxing for the night, reading a wonderful book1.

Sitting here and struggling to stop the spinning, I’m reminded of the importance of creating — and maintaining — inner-space. Meditation is, of course, a primary approach to that. And, you might guess, something that has slipped off the forefront in recent weeks.

A good reminder.

  1. Underland by Robert MacFarlane. Highly recommended.



The first day of the last month.
Rinse and repeat. A continued
descent toward the nadir of
darkness — the moment when
light returns, slowly. Asymptotic.
We never know when the final
step will occur. It’s a threshold —
always a threshold. How can one
put words to the great Mystery?
So many try. But watch: cells
divide; breath flows; light energizes;
the angels floating above the grass
whisper: grow. grow. Perhaps this
month we’ll feel that mystery
working in a way that eases the
pressure of modern living. No
matter what, the light will come.



Earlier today I found myself writing about the Mystery’, by which I mean existence itself; this endlessly fascinating thing called life. It’s easy to overlook, but it’s ever present. As I wrote while in pure stream of consciousness: it’s in every meeting, every hug, every piece of live theater. Essentially, we swim in it. And so often we don’t notice it, let alone acknowledge it. Yet it’s present.

I’ve written about this before. A couple times. I’m starting to see more how important it is to me. Important enough to want to find a way to center it more in what I’m doing. What that means will have to reveal itself.

For now, I leave you with the questions: what if we felt into this mystery in our moment-to-moment existence1? What if we let it guide us? How would we be with our fellow beings if this mystery were alive for us?

Interesting pondering as we enter into a time of gratitude — and a season of introspection.

  1. How would that be for mindfulness?


Finding the path that seeks to be found

A few months ago, I posted a little piece titled Elevations. It was a mostly spur of the moment introduction to one of the things I tend to think about when I support my clients. Today, I find myself thinking about this again, though it’s actually much more personal this time around.

Looking ahead at the coming year, I find myself thinking about what I want to build. I was in a coaching session yesterday talking about this, and what became clear to me was that by thinking about accessing the right elevation in what is important to me, I could find my way to building the most relevant thing in the most relevant way. This means not starting with the question what do I want to build?” Rather, finding the question to begin with. The elevation exercise becomes about that.

Abstract? Certainly. But in the end, it’s not about answering some pre-determined question. It’s about finding the path that is seeing to be found.



Our lives carve shapes in the universe. We fill shapes over time. We are shapes.

What is the shape of a given moment? Of a life?

Deep time tells us that we can never fully appreciate the shape of a thing, for it will grow and change again and again, carved by glaciers, flattened by stone.

Perhaps the greatest shape of all is the one that refuses containment. Breathe in.

Breathe out.