Inviting Myself in….
Shells in the Sands Series #10
The intention for this series is to share cherished thoughts and reflections of life in bite-size pieces. I have been an avid journal writer since my early teens, and most of the original writings were initially captured in my personal journal. I have chosen the most pertinent ones to share with the world through this series. This joy is similar to picking out beautiful shells while walking on a sandy beach.
On Tuesday morning, during my walk, a sense of heaviness swept over me. Guided by the awareness that “all suffering is contraction,” I invited myself to explore the source of this contraction, which manifested as the physical sensation of heaviness. It didn’t take long to trace it back: I was feeling apprehensive about the upcoming back-to-back travel — one trip to Saint Paul starting on Wednesday and ending on Friday, followed by another to Colorado lasting the entire next week. I was also questioning the value of the first trip, as it involved two full days of travel just to deliver a two-hour workshop.
As I inquired into this inner dialogue, I asked myself, “Which part of me is speaking?” It was the part of me that loves the comfort of familiar surroundings and the certainty of routines. Recognizing that this part wasn’t the best fit for the task ahead, I invited her sister — the part of me that thrives on adventure, surprises, and discovering new environments. The moment this adventurous part took charge, my inner landscape shifted, and the heaviness was replaced by a sense of buoyancy and lightness. I began to feel excited about the upcoming travel!
This is an experience of inner leadership. A key aspect of leadership is to harness the strengths of each team member. Inner leadership operates similarly, but here, the team members are different parts of oneself. I became fascinated by parts work through my study of the Internal Family Systems/IFS framework. Coupling IFS with the Daoist Yin/Yang framework, I’ve come to understand that each part has a seemingly opposing yet potentially complementary counterpart, as demonstrated in the example above. Depending on the task at hand, wise leadership involves inviting the right part to take charge. For instance, during long stretches of work-from-home days, the part of me that loves routines is well-suited to lead; however, when change is the dominant theme, it’s time for the routine-loving part to step back and allow the adventurous part to take over.
The most beautiful part is in the synergy: I often find myself appreciating my daily routines more after travel, while the disciplines of daily routines help to ground me while in adventures.
“And I think self-compassion has to do with this ability to understand and even to cultivate a sense of humor about all the ways you just don’t want to be here.” — David Whyte
Of course, this shift of leadership is not a done deal, but a continuous invitation. This is the fascinating thing about being human: nothing is as automatic as a straight line; it’s always a dance through the mess.
During my three-day travel, the routine-loving part of me just wanted to get things done. I’ve arranged trips before where she took the lead, and it felt like staying in a box — an even tighter box than my daily routine at home. Beyond accomplishing the tasks I was traveling for, I’d retreat to the hotel, ticking things off my to-do list while waiting for the time to pass.
With the new awareness I’ve developed, I was determined to let the adventurous part of me take charge and see where she’d lead me. It turned out to be fascinating. The first thing she did was create scaffolds to help me orient myself in the new environment. She recognized that the routine-loving part of me was scared of the unfamiliar, which is why she wanted to stay in her comfort zone. The adventurous part was compassionate toward this fear and set up effective scaffolds to create a sense of security. These included morning meditation, setting goals for the day (both work-related and for exploring the local area), and affirming the useful routines that carry over, such as eating and sleeping habits.
Once the scaffolds were in place, I felt completely at ease, and the sense of excitement carried me right out the door. I ended up having a fantastic day: delivering a well-received workshop, touching the waters of the Mississippi River, enjoying a two-hour walking tour of the city under the most beautiful weather, and capping it all off with dinner at an authentic Chinese restaurant. The adventurous part certainly did a great job guiding my day! While the routine-loving part might still grumble and list all the reasons she didn’t want to be here, as David Whyte’s quote suggests, the adventurous part created such a powerful experience that it might just change her mind!
This experience gave me a new perspective on the saying, “It’s lonely at the top.” While “the top” is often associated with power, I’ve come to see it differently — more as the “peak quality” of each moment. “The bottom” might be driven by a sense of obligation, like thinking, “I have to do this because it’s expected of me.” It wasn’t “lonely” because it was crowded with others’ expectations. In contrast to the bottom driven by obligations, the top is driven by invitations. It’s about the life force seeking full expression, about inviting myself to explore the full potential of each moment. It feels lonely because only I can truly gauge that quality. The worldly standards are irrelevant “at the top”. Yet, if I learn to embrace this loneliness and fully respect the potential for peak quality in each moment, I see so much more aliveness in my life, just as how my trip turned out. A trip is a microcosm of life.
As for my initial doubts about traveling two days for a two-hour workshop? It reminds me of a story about a couple living in different cities. Their romance thrived on the man catching an early flight, delivering his partner’s favorite breakfast, spending a day together, and then flying back home — all within the same day. I delivered a two-hour workshop to a receptive audience, then treated myself to a beautiful exploration of the city and quality reading time along the way, plus an exquisite visit with a dear friend the night I arrived. It turned out to be quite a fulfilling experience after all, didn’t it?
