Lifelook offers a fresh way to live more attentively, blending timeless philosophy, modern science, and everyday wonder into a living reflection of life’s unfolding.
Here, slowing down becomes a way of attending — moving as change, recognizing it not as something to overcome, but as a living field we participate in, shape, and are shaped by.
Through stories, frameworks, and quiet provocations, Lifelook invites you to wayfind a life of clarity, courage, and gentle abiding, one conscious moment at a time.
What is Lifelook?
Lifelook is the way we choose to live through our encounters. How we employ our perceptions and values in an examined, intentional, and integrated perspective on living. It's how we attend our days.
It grows from mundane mornings, triumphs and missteps, and quiet returns to what matters.
It’s the shape of your seeing, the way you meet life’s beauty, absurdity, and unpredictability. It's how we hold truth with uncertainty.
It’s the values we return to when things get strange. The quiet principles that show up not just in what we say, but in what we do, in how we treat ourselves, friends, and strangers. It's how we handle the undone, how we sit with uncertainty, how we hold silence, how we press forward when clarity hides, how we question when certainty hardens.
It develops out of direct, lived experience through our conditioning and active deconditioning, learning and unlearning, questions, wonderment, curiosity, and care: the way we notice what matters.
We all have our own lifelook. The practice is to notice it. The gift is to live with it, consciously. Being aware of being aware encourages a soft urgency to try and figure it out understanding that "knowing" is ever only partial, and the best bits remain hidden.
Choice Colors the View
We may not choose what arrives, yet we always choose how to attend, how to respond, and how to carry meaning forward.
Lifelook draws from the wisdom of Stoicism, the flow of Taoism, existential clarity, and insights from modern psychology. Every act of presence makes a choice—one that colors perspective and shapes the quality of each day.
How we choose to spend our time, where we choose to allow attention, and what we choose to care about most all become brushstrokes in our lifelook. Each mark deepens our awareness and brings us closer to recognizing that awareness attends to itself.
Lifelook remains a practice: attend with care, respond with presence, and carry meaning forward. Moment by moment, you shape your lifelook through what you choose to bring.
Why Lifelook?
Thanks for asking.
Lifelook began with a series of questions I couldn’t shake:
What if consciousness is more than a product of brain stuff? What if it's the field in which experiences emerge, the field we live within? What if values are more than ethical traits, they're tools for presence and alignment? What if meaning doesn’t arrive fully formed, but emerges in the moment we choose to attend?
This project lives at the intersection of philosophy and daily life. It draws from Stoicism, Taoism, Existentialism, psychology, neuroscience, spiritual insights, storytelling, and bedtime conversations with my children. It doesn’t promise clarity. It suggests rhythm. A way to move as change rather than brace against it as something separate.
I’m building Lifelook for the curious, for those who ask more than they answer. And yes, for the agents and editors seeking voices that invite readers not to escape life, but to step more fully into it.
Lifelook is a framework. A scaffold. A way of looking—and living—that grows clearer the more you practice it.
What Shapes our Lifelook?
Most of us live with ideas we’ve inherited, borrowed, or patched together. We say we value kindness, or resilience, or honesty but haven’t always examined what that means in real time. Lifelook helps us do that, to reveal what’s already there.
This is more than having answers. It’s about shaping our orientation through different questions.
Lifelook helps us move with uncertainty, not master it. It reminds us that clarity can arise even when confidence hides.
To begin to see our seeing is to begin to know ourselves.
It evolves through experience, reflection, and relationship. It holds memory and momentum and yet greets each moment anew. Values, perception, cosmology, and care all move through it. It grows in rhythm.
What Lifelook Offers
- A way to reflect without fixing
- A rhythm for navigating uncertainty
- A field to meet your own values
- A sense of direction without rigidity
- A sense of humor to resonate our way toward life's generous harmony
Lifelook Is Already with You
You don’t need to build it from scratch.
You already live into it.
The work is to return to it. With clarity. With attention. With care.
Where is Yours Already Living?
These reflection prompts may help you begin to clarify your own lifelook:
- What do I return to when life feels unclear?
- Which small actions give me a sense of meaning?
- What values show up in how I treat others? Myself?
- What is this in service to?
- What gifts is Nature trying to bring forth through me?
- What am I reluctant to question—and why?
- Am I prioritizing pleasant coherence at the expense of brave or good discomfort?
- Where is my own resistance most clearly felt? Is it good friction? Needless friction? Pulp fiction?
Where Mine Began
Inspired by a bedtime conversation with my six-year old son, it began with a simple question. A question that pulled something unnamed to the surface. He asked me, "what's our book?" as we read our bed time stories. I didn't have nor want to have a ready prefabbed answer, but realized perhaps I could more creatively show a way toward his own "book" cultivation. And, while I didn't start out on a full blown writing project, here I am, fumbling my way toward something.
I realized I had been living a philosophy—quietly, daily—but hadn’t named it, hadn't fully examined it through the art of storytelling. I'd eased off the gas a bit perhaps, and hadn't pressed on it with the rigor it deserves. Writing became my way for clarifying what I had already been living. My attempt to articulate the implied.
It’s one thing to imagine you think something; it’s another to wrestle it onto the page. As Joan Didion once said, “I don’t know what I think until I write it down.” That’s pretty true for me, and maybe for you, too.
So I write in the cracks of the day—early mornings, lunch breaks, or the quiet hour after another of those lingering bedtime questions.
This page, this book, this site are all part of this incomplete, and beautifully imperfect process. From here I can attempt, with sufficient attunement, to live it, albeit incompletely.
Attending The Days - blog
Attending the Days grew out of a square of quiet on my desk—pause, notice, scribble, carry on. Over time the pages leaked online. Now the blog works as a low‑stakes lab where I test ideas, keep the ones that still breathe next morning, and retire the rest without ceremony: my creative flows flavored with failure. No productivity hacks or color‑coded trackers (though I admit that'd probably help). Just a daily handshake with my good friend Moment.
If you’ve ever stared into nothing longer than it takes a video to load, or watched a four‑year‑old negotiate with a dust mote, you know the current I’m following. Those ordinary moments that refuse to fade? They're trying to tell us something. This space listens for those small uprisings of meaning and asks what they want.
Inside you’ll meet lived‑in reflections, sturdy philosophy, and the occasional friendly nudge toward clarity or pressure on meaning. Each post orbits three companions—Perception, Aware Action, and Alignment—because clearer sight, deliberate movement, and an inner compass make decent company in all sorts of weather.
Whether you’re polishing a first résumé, navigating the mid‑career maze, pivoting at mid‑life, parenting with wonder, chasing clarity through complexity, or simply trying to keep both eyes open, bring your questions and thoughts becuase they brighten the room.
If Oliver Burkeman’s dry grin, Rupert Spira's gentle insights, or James Hollis' straight talk ever made you nod mid‑sentence, you likely already have a chair at the Attending table. The coffee’s lukewarm, glitter glue clings to the carpet, and you're ready to lean over and have a closer look. Join me and Attend the Days.