Craig Constantine

A life in motion

Everything I do—whether in Pause or 7 for Sunday, in a podcast, blog post, or conversation—traces back to a big idea captured in three words: Discovery. Reflection. Efficacy. That essay is a reflection on how those three words emerged—not as a framework I invented, but as a pattern I noticed in everything I was already doing.

I write, speak, move, and listen not because I have something to say or teach, but instead because I’m still learning to hear and understand. And writing especially feels like a way to make space for that listening.

I used to think I wrote because there was something I wanted to say. Then I thought, “I will continue to write because I have not yet said what I wanted to say”; but I know now I continue to write because I have not yet heard what I have been listening to.

~ Mary Rueflé, Madness, Rack, and Honey

After decades of struggle against my own nature, I’ve given up trying to focus on just one thing. Instead, I’ve learned to relax—or at least, to be slightly more relaxed. When the creative energy is flowing, I channel it. And sometimes I simply pause.

I used to feel pressure to unify my work into one thing. Now I see all the crazy parts as a constellation—all connected by invisible threads. You don’t need to follow all those threads or deeply explore any one part. But I do hope you find one little something which I’ve done which sparks something in you.

I believe a meaningful life isn’t something you chase—rather, it’s something you notice, one moment at a time. It’s about presence, not pursuit. Curiosity drives everything I create, and each bit is, at its core, an invitation to pause, to reflect, and to live with greater intention. Long-term practice in Aikido showed me strength, humility, and mindfulness in motion. Over time, it taught me to value consistency, and that with greater ability comes greater responsibility.

When I found Art du Déplacement in my 40s, I didn’t realize I was stepping into a lifelong practice—not just of movement, but of humility. I went for the fitness and stayed for the mindset. I had to unlearn decades of disconnection from my body—years spent thinking of movement as something separate from thinking, separate from being. That journey rediscovering my body, breath, limits, and playfulness reshaped how I live and teach. It’s now the foundation beneath everything I now offer.

I have a personal oath, which coaches me to share my experiences (rather than broadcasting feigned certainty). That might be in Movers Mindset, where I explore what moves people, or in Open + Curious, where I consider how dialogue shapes reality. It might be in Podtalk or in the Podcaster Community, where I show up to support indie podcast creators. Or it might be in a quiet quote from my Little Box of Quotes, where I’ve gathered over a thousand voices to whisper counsel when I need it.

I’ve published thousands of podcast episodes, coached creators, and hosted hundreds of recorded conversations. But the real magic has always been the unrecorded moments—the ideas that only truly land when we’re fully present with another human. That’s why I engage in conversation—and why, when I can, I share them as podcasts, hoping they might inspire someone else the way they inspired me.

My blog is a public thinking space. I write with the garage door up—partly to challenge myself and partly to share what I’m learning as I go. Over time, it’s also become a tool for reflection: I revisit past entries often, circling through old notes, quotes, and journal entries as part of a rolling habit of looking back and learning forward.

So, yeah, that’s a lot…

If any of that resonates, feel free to start anywhere. Or just leap to a random post on my blog, where I’ve left 5,000+ breadcrumbs in the open.

Me? I’ll keep moving, reflecting, and continuing to listen.

If you’ve read this far, and you have a question or an idea for something we can work on together, you should head to my contact page. and drop me a note.

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