Tillitonse - A Transformational Journey Together

 Multiple Roles. One Juggler So there I was. Early morning, post-yoga glow, walking down a quiet flight of stairs with another practitioner — let’s call him the Enlightened Fumbler. First, his yoga mat slipped. A bit clumsy, I thought. Happens. Then his water bottle fell. Slightly more concerning — hydration is sacred. And just as I was about to mentally wish him a better grip on life,  clatter!  — the mobile phone dropped. The universal symbol of fragility and panic. I bent down, handed it to him, and smiled. He mumbled a flustered thank you and carried on down the stairs like this was all perfectly normal. And that’s when it struck me: This is all of us. We’re carrying way too many things — Our roles: Parent. Partner. Team leader. Volunteer. Friend. Committed daughter. Dutiful son. Sometimes unpaid Uber driver. Our aspirations: Be calm. Be productive. Be kind. Also, get those taxes done. Our emotional cargo: Worries, half-dreams, quiet regrets, WhatsApp notifications. A...

  THE LIGHT YOU FORGOT YOU HAD Let’s be honest. Even the most luminous among us occasionally flicker. A few months ago, I was sitting in a training program — not as the wise one with a flip chart, but as a humble participant with a slightly leaky pen and jumbled notes. It was the end of a long week. I was ready for my gold star and exit snacks when my teacher — a warm, yet firm type — turned to me and said: “Sanjay, why are you not teaching? Why have you stopped?” It hit me like an unexpected WhatsApp call. You know that moment when someone says something kind… and inconveniently true?  That was it. I’d somehow let six months pass without leading a session — distracted by other tasks, wrapped up in self-talk (read: excuses), and honestly, I’d just fallen out of the groove. But in that one compassionate question, something clicked. It wasn’t a shove. It was a gentle torch held up when my inner candle had gone a bit dim. So, I did something radical: I. Started. Again. ...

  Does Fear of Criticism Hold You Back? Over the last year, I’ve been working with a thoughtful, wise, and quietly competent leader—we’ll call her San. Now, San is the kind of professional we all want on our team:  Clear-headed  Mission-driven  Will-do-whatever-it-takes (without complaining about the Wi-Fi)  Peers admire her  Bosses adore her  Honestly, she could teach a course on how to be "that" person who gets things done and still remembers your birthday. But every now and then... she’d quietly  step back . No, it was subtler—more like the whisper of a hesitant foot on the brakes. San avoided situations where there was even the  faintest  risk of being misunderstood or judged harshly. But if a situation felt like it might even  sniff  of criticism? Her inner compass said:  “Abort mission.” The Invisible Edge It’s that almost imperceptible boundary where clarity and commitment meet a strange, quiet hesitation. A pl...

Never Search Alone is a structured, community-driven job search methodology developed by Phyl Terry , author of the book Never Search Alone: The Job Seeker’s Playbook . It flips the traditional solitary job hunt model into a collaborative, transparent, and emotionally supportive process . Here’s an overview of its core ideas and methodology: Core Principles of Never Search Alone (NSA) Don’t Search Alone Job search is lonely, especially in mid-career or senior roles. NSA recommends forming a Job Search Council (JSC) —a small peer group of 3–6 people who meet weekly to support, guide, and hold each other accountable. Values-First Job Search Instead of chasing titles or companies, NSA encourages aligning your job search with your core values and what truly energizes you. Embrace Emotional Truth Job hunting can trigger anxiety, self-doubt, or imposter syndrome. NSA creates space for you to acknowledge and process emotions so they don’t derail your confidence or focus. T...

  “You must go to Bir.” That’s what I told a friend visiting from South Africa, eyes lit up like a Diwali sparkler. Bir — a small Himalayan town I’ve spent time in over the past year — feels like a secret portal to another way of being. There’s the buzz of youthful energy, the hush of monasteries, snow-capped mountains in the distance… and somehow, in that mix, I always feel lighter, freer, more  me . Naturally, I waxed eloquent. Possibly even poetic. He nodded along with genuine interest. Then I flipped the script: “So how’s your time in Chennai been?” And that’s when things got interesting. He’d spent a month here — in  my  hometown — and spoke of hopping local trains to corners of the city I’d never seen, meeting communities I’d never heard of, and sampling foods I’d need Google Translate just to pronounce. Chennai — which I’ve occasionally (and unfairly) dismissed as “a bit boring” — had become a playground of wonder and novelty. I was floored. When I s...

The Lens We See Through  Yesterday, at a gathering of my social voluntary organization, a senior member gently chastised me for not continuing my leadership role for another year. He emphasized the importance of sustaining efforts over time. As he spoke, I felt a sense of defensiveness rising within me. My instinct was to justify my actions, to explain why I had chosen to step away. I started to do so...But then, another voice within me nudged me to simply listen instead. So, I did. I just listened. After a moment, I responded with, “I can see your perspective.” Not “I agree with you,” but “I can see your perspective.” As the conversation continued, he shared something interesting: “You know, I’ve been part of one committee for the last 13 years. That’s how I’ve been sustaining my contribution.” This morning, as I reflected on that conversation, I was reminded of an insight:  We see the world not as it is, but as we are. For him, sustained commitment over a long period is like...