This week on Sit, Walk, Work, I led a guided meditation centered on spaciousness and impermanence—two qualities that shape not only our practice, but the way we live every day.
We began with the breath. Each inhale and exhale was a reminder that no two moments are ever the same. Impermanence reveals itself here: every breath is similar, yet completely unique. It’s the same truth that shows up in daily life. A difficult conversation with a partner or coworker may feel endless, but just like the breath, it changes. Tension softens, moods shift, and what feels permanent in one moment often dissolves in the next.
From there, I invited you to set a wise intention. In meditation, this means choosing the energy you want to bring—curiosity, peace, kindness. But it’s no different outside of practice. Before stepping into a meeting or starting your day, pausing to set an intention can shape everything that follows. If you begin with the spirit of curiosity, even a frustrating situation can unfold differently.
Next, we worked with the spaciousness that arises in the pauses between breaths. At the top of the inhale and the bottom of the exhale, stillness exists. These pauses may feel small, but they reveal something vast. In daily life, we encounter similar pauses: the red light on the commute, the line at the grocery store, the waiting room before an appointment. These moments, which often stir frustration, can become opportunities to breathe and find space.
We then widened attention beyond the breath to include sound. The hum of a fan, the chatter of voices, the silence itself—all come and go without our control. Life mirrors this. The ping of a phone notification or the sudden noise of traffic feels urgent in the moment, but it too passes. Seeing this in meditation makes it easier to hold distractions lightly in daily life.
From sound, we moved into the body. Sensations—comfort, discomfort, warmth, pressure—are constantly shifting. Even chronic pain or restlessness isn’t fixed; it vibrates, changes, and moves in subtle ways. This practice of noticing without resistance helps us respond differently to discomfort, whether it’s an achy back, a restless night, or the stress of a long workday.
As the practice deepened, I encouraged you to meet whatever arose with equanimity. Life doesn’t always feel balanced, but meditation teaches us that balance isn’t the absence of discomfort—it’s the ability to remain steady while it moves through us. Think of an argument at home or stress at work: instead of pushing against it or wishing it away, we can rest in the knowledge that it too will change.
We closed with gratitude and loving kindness. Gratitude doesn’t need to wait for the extraordinary; it can be found in the warmth of morning coffee, the silence before the day begins, or even the simple gift of breath itself. From gratitude, we moved into offering ourselves compassion: May I be happy. May I be peaceful. May I be safe and protected.
And here’s where practice meets life most clearly. Loving kindness isn’t confined to the cushion. I often bring it into meetings, silently repeating: May you be peaceful. This simple wish changes how I listen and how I respond. It’s a reminder that just as I need kindness, so do others.
Meditation shows us that everything—breath, sound, sensation, thought—arises and fades. Impermanence is not something to fear; it’s what allows space for growth, healing, and renewal. Spaciousness is not empty; it’s the opening that lets kindness flow through.
So this week, when life feels tight or overwhelming, pause. Notice the breath. Widen your attention. Remember that everything shifts. And choose to meet it all with love.
May you be happy. May you be peaceful. May you be safe and protected.
💬 Let’s Reflect Together
The next time you’re stuck in traffic or waiting in line, how might you use that pause as a chance to practice spaciousness instead of frustration?
When conflict arises at home or work, what helps you remember that the moment—and the emotion—will change?
Have you ever noticed how even discomfort in the body shifts if you pay attention to it? How could that awareness change the way you respond to pain or stress?
Share your reflections in the comments—I’d love to hear how impermance is alive in your practice.
