the art of quiet service

part one: a talisman arrives

Today, a dear friend gifted me a talisman from Gandhi. It came in the mail. What a wonderful afternoon surprise.

This is Gandhi’s talisman, written shortly before his death in 1948:

Whenever you are in doubt, or when the self becomes too much with you, apply the following test. Recall the face of the poorest and the weakest man whom you may have seen and ask yourself, if the step you contemplate is going to be of any use to him. Will he gain anything by it? Will it restore him to a control over his life and destiny? In other words, will it lead to swaraj (freedom) for the hungry and spiritually starving millions? Then you will find your doubt and your self melting away.

I’ve been drafting this post for a couple days, looking for the kindest tone to inspire us toward the universal call to service. I’m so grateful that Gandhi is willing to lend a hand.

Please let this love note be delivered straight to your heart. If it misses, forgive my aim. I’m exploring an idea here and I’d love your feedback.

Contrary to what’s sometimes on display, a yoga practice is a determined effort that stills the mind’s ceaseless prattle. Not necessarily stretching, and not necessarily playlists, though either or both if they relieve the mind’s restlessness.

Truly, any practice that brings you to a place of quiet is yoga. So let’s let the term yoga be and simply consider the fine art of living.

In the fine art of living, we may become, at once, stable and peaceful. We’re players in life’s game and our manner of play is graceful, loving, authentic— seemingly without effort. Let’s agree this kind of ease takes practice. This is most clearly on display when the game gets rough. How do the best players maintain grace when rocked by trials and tribulations?

I decided to ruminate a bit on the art of living, the essential skills of the game, and maybe even the purpose of it. This week, I’ll give you my hypothesis.

I suggest an artful life requires 1) a secure place to be, so we can 2) pay attention, and 3) imagine new possibilities that inspire us to 4) forgive the old ones.

And the purpose, very generally? To serve others. We do it in our unique ways but we’re made to contribute.

Over the next several weeks, I’d like to explore these skills along with the way they nourish and refine our purpose. This feels like the right time because the messages in the wind these days tend toward confusion. Folks want respect, love, justice, and peace but their demands are occasionally disrespectful, unloving, inequitable, and enraged.

These are important messages but not, perhaps, very artful. I’ll quote Gandhi again:

You must be the change you wish to see in the world.

It’s a true blessing to make contact with the difficulties of our lives and the lives of those around us. It’s a wonder when we realize we’d prefer something different. It’s courageous to announce the preference.

The art of quiet service, I believe, is learning to appreciate our blessings, wonder, and courage so we might respond more selflessly to life’s twists. In other words, having confirmed our needs, we can move in a way that encourages dominion, love, kindness, and freedom for those in despair. We may include ourselves among the desperate.

Please recall, every moment is a fresh beginning. Let’s feel the freshness of our eyes and the warm hearth of our hearts. Let’s be like little children… Beginners.

We all have this softness. We learn when we’re ready to absorb.

Next week, I’ll share some thoughts about building our place to be— our safe foundation. I hope you’ll share your thoughts too. Thank you for coming along with me.

Read more about the fine art of living at my site and if you’d like to talk, please reach out to make an appointment. Together, we can build artful practices to stabilize and inspire you.