Most of my shells start out looking like nothing special. An ʻopihi pulled from the rocks is often dull, chipped, sometimes downright ugly — the kind of thing most people would step right over on the beach. But I've learned that the most ordinary-looking things often hold the most hidden beauty, if you have the patience and the care to bring it out. The tumbling, the polishing, the slow hours on the lapidary wheel — that's where an overlooked shell becomes something a person wants to wear close to their heart.
I've come to believe that life works the same way.
I try to live a little outside my comfort zone, because that's where the growth is. The easy, familiar path rarely changes you. It's the unfamiliar one — a new shore, a harder conversation, a piece I'm not sure I can pull off — that turns me into more of who I'm meant to be.
I believe every problem has a solution. Not always the one I wanted, and rarely on my schedule, but a way through is always there if I stay patient and keep my hands moving.
I try to lead with an attitude of gratitude. The more thankful I am for what's already here, the more good seems to find its way to me. I believe in intention — that what we focus on and put out into the world has a way of coming back around. Call it karma, call it the universe, call it manifestation; I just know that a grateful, open heart draws more to it than a closed one.
I also try to give freely and hold my expectations loosely. The more I give, the more seems to come back around — and expectations, I've found, have a way of setting you up for disappointment. So I give without keeping score, and let the rest take care of itself.
"Your ego is not your amigo."
That one came from my yoga teacher, and I haven't been able to shake it. The ego wants to be right, to be impressive, to rush. The work — and the good life — asks for the opposite: humility, patience, presence. When I set my ego down, the shell tells me what it wants to become, and my job is simply to listen.
Every piece I make carries a little of all this. It began as something overlooked, it was changed by patience and care, and now it gets to be beautiful out in the world. That, really, is the whole philosophy — small enough to wear around your neck.
— Aaron