Past Our life doesn't become richer in how we conquer time, but how we conjure it. A meaningful life isn't about changing the nature of time. It's about shifting our relationship to it.
Wonder is the mother of meaning.
When our stories lack interest, they lack meaning. When our stories lack meaning, our life lacks meaning. When we make any of our stories more interesting, we make the past meaningful.
Prejudice has many enemies, the greatest of which is curiosity.
Shared trust grows in the possibility of shared stories well told. We shift from isolated and divided pasts into a more common past. We enjoy common meaning.
In our deepest suffering, we feel broken. We feel less than whole. To return to consciousness of our power, we return to our wholeness. In interesting stories well told, we literally re-member ourselves into wholeness.
Humor doesn't make us forget; it gives us perspective. In the genuine humility of humor, we forgive ourselves for being human.
Change resisted is a life suffered.
The spontaneity of improvisation is the art and power of adaptability. When we adapt, we flourish.
The root assumption behind postponements is that we will have time in the future for what we deny in the present. When we question this assumption, we do more. We enjoy more. We resist less. We live a more meaningful life.
When we decide to have an honest relationship with time, we realize that we actually do not know how much time we have. When we get the notion of time as an assumption, we question even our favorite delays, delusions and denials.
Improvisation is the clearest indicator we live in the present. In the serendipity of improvisation, some of the best things in life happen unplanned.
When we embrace the grace of improvisation ... we surf waves rather than attempt to reengineer an ocean without them.
In random acts of interest, we ignite a conversation with "strangers" in the spark of a single question.
Until we understand the authentic meaning of our life, we measure meaning in units of busy. We confuse meaning and motion.
Envy motivates our inconsolable itch for cultural symbols of meaning. We carve parodies of significance from the stone of social comparison. We lust after the time people have for all the things we don't. We fumble good intentions in our own juggled lives.
We all have days when we question the worth of what we do ... the problem is not the voice of inadequacy that erodes our joy. The problem is that we believe it.
We define community as people who come together in the realization of their collective significance.
There are parts of us whose significance requires no permissions nor approvals. We feel capable of more and act accordingly. Our sense and use of time changes accordingly as well. We give time to what we care most about.
You can "do it all" only if you shrink your capacity to care.
Each day is a fresh beginning, a unique invitation for a meaningful life of storytelling, spontaneity and significance. We stay so immersed in the depth of our life that we don't get distracted by its duration. We dream like this is the first day of our life and act as if it is our last.