As I set up my calendar for the month, I choose a quote I’ve found that speaks to me. I write it in my planner and leave space below it where I write phrases I hear or read that month that spark something in me. I found this practice centers me throughout the month, and helps me be more present in my conversations, meetings, and readings. For September 2026, my quote was, “The intimate truth of our mutual tender existence.”
September ended with all the emotions. As I typed that sentence, my first thought was to clarify the emotions were not bad. Then I thought, how awful that my first instinct was that emotions would equate to “bad.” And are emotions “bad” if they are authentic and shared in a connectional way?
The more I practice mindfulness, somatics (being more aware of the sensations in one’s body and what they tell us—often before our brain understands), and my 2026 noble intention “vulnerability,” the more I realize how connectional emotions are, both to myself and to those around me… and how much work is done to not reveal them, to hold back the intimacy of them, or apologize if they do arise publicly, like with tears. But yet our mutual existence is made tender (bearable and meaningful) through felt, intimate experiences together.
Here are the quotes, lyrics, and phrases that caught the attention of my head and heart this month regarding “our mutual tender existence.”
- Whisper goodness into my bones
- The trees will not ask, “How are you really?” and the wind doesn’t care if you cry
- We’ve got an emotional backlog sitting in our hearts
- Grief is as individual as love; There’s nothing to do but experiment
- Love any way
- I’m new land craving to be built upon
- That by whispering “yes” instead of screaming “no,” an ineffable grace began to fill the space of our shattered hearts
- We are linked, not ranked
- Free myself into my ordinariness
- You can stumble over it, or let it wash over you
- The space between “no longer” and “not yet”
As I felt my way through September, I realized that the first emotion I noticed was superficial. The deeper more intimate emotions required time, and in some cases, excavation.
I first felt grief from layoffs at work including that of a favorite work friend. I later realized my grief stemmed from enjoyment of a trusted relationship at work forged through meaningful conversations over a decade together on a project we both held dear. Then anticipation bubbled up as we both shared our relationship would now move beyond the workplace.
Heading into a two-day client conference I managed, I first felt anxiety—as I wanted everything to go smoothly for a mission that truly changed people’s lives. Then excitement bounced around inside me as I thought about our remote team being able to unite and work together in person for the first time all year. Appreciation came in waves as I saw team members help not only meeting attendees and our client, but each other. And the laughter, oh the delightful laugher.
I felt proud when a friend said, “I don’t have to explain to you, you’re an ally.” But bewilderment and anger quickly pushed it out of the way as I took in all they shared about an unfair experience and overwhelming situation. Helplessness settled in as I realized I couldn’t fix the situation or help her not hurt—and I oh, so wanted to coat her wounds with a loving salve.
The warmth of gratitude coated my heart during a call with an expert I admire as she bravely shared a personal goal with me, which quickly turned to giddiness when she offered to align her goal to support a quietly held goal of mine. Shazam! The joy of collaboration with a friend. And while a little whisper of fear appeared as I thought, “Wow, this is real and my goal is going to happen!” … it quickly faded due to our effervescent enthusiasm.
The intimate truths of our mutual tender existence?
My body sensed first – warmth, buoyancy tightness, energy – then my heart felt the emotions, and my head followed by naming it.
Each initial big emotion changed.
Sometimes the emotional shifts came quick, other times quietly.
Being present with and vulnerable to another person is emotional – and that’s a good thing, because it confirms the connection of our mutual tender existence.
