How the world sees you.

Many of us have perceptions of ourselves that don’t match what others think, feel or notice.  Culturally, we put on a polite and happy face to make people (and ourselves) feel comfortable and at ease in each other’s company – whether it’s in a work, social, or romantic interaction.  

How often have you wished to be a fly on the wall so you could hear how others describe you in any of these capacities?

With the underlying desire to both impress and be accepted OR to hide and detach, we unconsciously give others impressions that can either achieve or dissuade all of the above.   

When people get to hear how the world actually experiences them without the cherry on top, the impact can be profound. The practice of Circling allows us to receive feedback from unbiased strangers, using conscious communication that requires ownership of personal experience.  

Recently, during a weekend intensive, a man was sharing his frustration about the social dynamic in his workplace.  He described how he dreaded interacting with his peers and said something to the effect of  ‘they’re all self-absorbed jerks that could care less about me or what I bring to the table.’ 

One of the women in the Circle responded, ‘that’s interesting because I was feeling like you were thinking the same thing about us.’

Other people in the group then revealed that they were imagining the same thing.  The man was shocked by this response and was eager to ask what had the group simultaneously respond to him in the same way.  

Ultimately he discovered that his history and the insecurities that he had developed over time, had him judging and coming to conclusions about others before ever being ‘seen.’  

In the practice of Circling, being ‘seen’ translates to being understood, appreciated, or acknowledged for one's true self, process, or unique gifts … that which lies below the surface.

Unraveling these perceptions in a communal space, that could just as easily represent the places and spaces in our day-to-day lives, offers invaluable insight.

Circling certainly isn’t for the faint hearted but it can help one understand why they’re attracting or NOT attracting what they desire most in life -- the woman/man, the job, opportunity, or simply the connection we ALL long to feel with others.

Circling facilitates freedom from constrictions of past experiences and interpretations around conflict, decisions, or stories.  Individuals can then find support and passion to design their future and their role -- giving them the power to reformulate and harness a vision for their lives.

This practice also reveals that all of us are going through an internal process that pretty much mirrors everyone else’s.  Realizing this can give us permission to relax into our own skin vs. being in a constant state of internal analysis – judging, desiring, or trying to control the outcome of each interaction.  

This opens up a whole new space for presence, connection, and attention to the things that nourish us in any interaction. 

For me, this feels like freedom.  And what I love even more is that there are no rules or requirements to the practice of Circling, other than to share and receive your own truth. 









13 Again.

I discovered my love of writing when I was 13 years old at summer camp. Un-edited streams of consciousness poured onto the multi-colored stationary that my grandmother had given me before I left. I wrote to everyone I could think of, never pausing the race between my heart and hand to consider grammar or my recipients’ reactions.  

When I got home, everyone told me it was if they had spent the summer with me.  They all hated the bully on the upper bunk, felt my pain when I lost the big race, and couldn’t wait to hear about the epic ending with my summer crush.

It wasn’t until years later when I fell in true love, that I found myself without words for the first time. I stumbled between vulnerability and pride, revealing and retracting.  I wrote many letters that screamed my truths, but they were too potent for an unbearable ending and were left un-sent.

The generosity and tone of my writing fluctuated based on the freedom of expression I felt at various points in my life.  It was always easiest to get in touch with that 13-yr old, bright-eyed and wondrous girl when I was traveling, creating, or in love. 

That voice became bounded and less playful when I imagined myself writing to an audience with judging eyes.  It felt as if I was preparing to sing from the most pure and wild places inside of me, and the mere thought of rejection had me running off stage.

It would take me an hour to write one paragraph and when I looked back, it was always the first version that I liked the most.  I just couldn’t trust that everyone else would feel the same. 

I began to carefully choose my audiences and words, both in my writing and in my life.  I hungered for company and relationships that allowed me to feel both free and safe … rarely were they one in the same. 

The lonely holes in-between had me hunger for experiences that allowed me to touch, taste, and feel the places where I felt most alive, and most ME.  And with each heartbreak or success, I became less tolerant of limiting spaces and relationships.

I became more willing to endure the discomfort of change, so I could get closer to the quality of life and experience of love that conceivably existed. 

And now as I write, I do so believing that my words will land with an audience that is also willing to touch, taste, feel and CREATE what is possible for them. 

 So forgive me in advance for any grammatical errors or disregard of judgments … I’m just here for love.