I write, host conversations, and keep a few practices for people drawn to live with intention. The thread underneath is curiosity, and a kind of attention I’ve spent decades trying to learn.
Everything I do, whether in a podcast, blog post, or conversation, traces back to three words: Discovery. Reflection. Efficacy. They aren’t a framework I invented, but a pattern noticed in what I was doing.
I don’t write, speak, move, or listen because I have answers, I do it because I’m still learning to hear and understand. And writing especially feels like a way to make space for that understanding. Poet Mary Rueflé put it better than I ever could:
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 the scattered parts as a constellation, all connected by invisible threads I don’t need to strictly control. You don’t need to follow every thread or deeply explore any one part. But I do hope you find one small piece which sparks something in you.
I believe a meaningful life isn’t chased but rather is noticed, one moment at a time. It’s about presence, not pursuit. Curiosity drives everything I create.
Long-term practice in Aikido showed me strength, humility, and mindfulness in motion. Over time, it taught me to value consistency, and that with ability comes 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 being. That journey rediscovering my body, breath, limits, and playfulness reshaped how I live and teach.
I have a personal oath — to share my experiences rather than pretend to certainty — that’s shaped how I write and speak ever since. It’s in Movers Mindset, where I explore what moves people. It’s in Open + Curious, where I consider how dialogue shapes reality. And it’s in Podtalk and the Podtalk Community, where I show up to support indie podcast creators.
There are a few public projects which I maintain because they are a part of my life. I’ve been gathering quotes on my blog for years — voices ready to whisper counsel when I need it. I built 365changes.com — daily prompts on food and body, each with its own companion piece. The writing’s done; the daily email and RSS keep arriving, because I’m still reading along. And temenos.place is the only one that’s part of a current practice: a quiet place where one short thing waits each day — a sentence, a question, a quote — for whoever’s signed up to sit with it. Tomorrow it’s gone, and a new one is there.
Just as important as what I’ve taken on is what I’ve declined. For the first time in a long time, I’ve been able to say no to things that could work, because I’d rather not. That turned out to be its own discipline.
I’ve spent years in podcasts, creating shows, coaching others, and hosting conversations. What stays with me most, though, are the unrecorded moments, when ideas land because we’re fully present with another person. That’s why I have conversations, and why, when I can, I share them as podcasts, hoping they might move someone else the way they moved 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 become a tool for reflection: I revisit my past, looping back through old blog posts, notes, and journal entries as part of a habit of looking back and learning forward.
So, yeah, that’s a lot…
If any of this resonates, feel free to start anywhere. Or just leap to a random post on my blog, where I’ve been leaving breadcrumbs in the open since 2011.
Me? I’ll keep moving, reflecting, and listening.
ɕ