Hi everyone,
 

The first bloom of Spring arrived in my sphere today, one tiny cherry blossom pecking the air in pink. I took that as a sign to resume my newsletters, as I've been working deep in the backend of my studio, preparing wonders to come.

 

Today, I'd love to distill the topic of contentment and let its blush spread through the petals of this moment. 
 

These weeks, I've been burrowed in routine, after spending 2 months traveling in the Middle East. I'm a child of contrast, so I love that banter between movement and stillness, the unknown and familiarity.
 

On a very ordinary day, as I was stacking some papers on my desk, a quiet voice burbled up, like an oil bubble from the deep sea. 

It said: I am content with my life. 

I stopped and absorbed that feeling, letting it round out inside of me. It was like something warm, delicious, and molten moving through, dissolving any sense of lack in my system, unifying me with the present. 

 

Contentment is such a humble thing. Even the sound of the word is understated. It's not as exciting as happiness, nor as sexy as purpose. It doesn't carry the gravitas of meaning, nor the cool edge of success. 

It's like the prune of personal growth, being sold on the bottom shelf. 
 

Yet the more I live, the more I think contentment is where it's at. 

 

By contentment, I mean: I am satisfied and at peace with my life as it is. It is a quiet, rooted acceptance. 
 

Through my years traveling around the world, I've met many people who are wealthy, successful, and purpose-driven. But only a handful who are truly content.

How many people do you know who are genuinely content with their lives? 

Contentment seems to be the real hidden gem of living.
 

 

Sometimes I wonder if discontentment lingers, not because we lack, but because we’ve never been given permission to be content. 

 

As if satisfaction signals settling and complacency. As if being at peace with what we have means we’ve lost our edge, no longer reaching, no longer moving forward. 

 

I am satisfied and at peace with my life. How many times have you heard this phrase? Is it even socially acceptable to say? 

 

Here’s what I’m learning: contentment can exist alongside problems and unfulfilled dreams. It can hold space for pain, drive, and uncertainty. It does not mean settling, but finding steadiness and fullness within the unfolding. 
 

Don't get me wrong. Discontentment has its place, and it is a valuable signal to make some changes. As they say, without the itch, there'd be no scratch. But I think we allow ourselves far less contentment than we could.

Maybe this is why the poetry of Mary Oliver and Rumi feel like a balm. Their words break the trance of discontentment, if only for a moment, allowing us to step into the quiet fullness of the present.

They say: 

I know you have problems in your life, but hey, look at this snail climbing this trellis of trumpet flowers. Isn't it amazing? 

I know life is uncertain, but do you see how everything is unfolding so miraculously, and how you are part of this unfolding? 

I know you ache for more darling, but do you see how this moment is whole and complete, perfect the way it is?

 

 

The thing with contentment is that it must be cultivated. This is why it's so rare. We focus on happiness, which feels more fleeting to me, but not on contentment-the underlying fabric that holds it all. The thing that really fills your cup. 

 

How do you cultivate contentment then?

You first simply allow more of it in. You write yourself that permission slip to be more content with your life, knowing contentment doesn't mean subscribing to a boring life, but a richer one. 

 

Then, contentment grows when you weave a deepening noticing with widening self-acceptance. This means seeing more of what is already there, while embracing yourself for what you are- both magic and mayhem, contradiction and coherence. 

When I meet someone who is genuinely content, I feel this beautiful ambrosial bloom about them. They are anchored, at ease, as if steeping in the elixir of the imperfectly perfect. 

There is a quiet strength in this. Perhaps contentment is the ultimate power and boundary, then, in a world that constantly pokes and prods at our sense of lack. Perhaps contentment is also a deep form of love. 

At first, it comes in glimpses—a fleeting moment of gratitude, a tinge of wholeness. But over time, something shifts. Slowly but steadily, it weaves into the weft and warp of your being, settling in like warm sunlight on a late afternoon. 

Until one day, you are stacking a pile of papers on a very ordinary day, with a handful of problems to solve, and something catches you off guard, a voice bubbling up from the deep sea of your soul. 

It bursts, saying: 

I love and am at peace with my life. 
I'm satisfied with the way it is unfolding. 
Everything is perfect the way it is.

Thank you for receiving today.

Be well,
Dandan

PS: If you'd like a structured path to cultivate this contentment, check out my online program and community Unravel, which is bustling with beautiful energy. Come join us- it's not too late to make this your best year yet!
 

www.dandanliustudio.com