Spying the Divine

Listening for What’s Quiet, Sacred, and Still Possible

A couple of days ago, I was listening to the Rich Roll podcast, where he was interviewing Chip Conley of the Modern Elder Academy. I’m a fan of the Modern Elder Academy, even though I haven’t attended any of their events yet. I simply appreciate the idea of a place dedicated to offering tools, practices, and support for navigating midlife challenges, a place to help people thrive in the second half of life.

Photo by Mihály Köles on Unsplash

During the interview, Chip mentioned something he calls Spying on the Divine, a name he gives to practices that cultivate awe. Listening, I was struck by the reminder that in the acceleration of daily life, it’s easy to overlook the subtle miracles unfolding all around us: a kind word, a moment of unexpected courage, the fragile beauty of someone daring to hope again. Spying the divine is the art of training the heart to notice these hidden moments.

In therapy, adopting a “spying the divine” posture invites us to become secret agents of wonder and awe. We listen not just for problems or deficits, but for the quiet movements of dignity, creativity, love, and meaning that persist even in pain. We look for the overlooked, the tiny moments where someone made a choice aligned with their values, even against the odds. We honor the unseen labors of healing already underway.

Rather than positioning ourselves as experts on what’s going wrong, we can become curious witnesses to what is still right, still active, still sacred in a person’s life. Therapy then becomes less about fixing and more about revealing, revealing the forgotten sources of life, connection, and possibility that may have been lost from view, but were never truly gone.

Spying the divine asks both therapist and client to become companions in wonder, helping each other catch glimpses of the beauty still moving through the world, and through themselves.

How might you get started? Here are a few narrative stems you might find helpful for therapy, journaling, or personal reflection:

"If I were secretly spying on my own life with the eyes of compassion, today I would have noticed..."

"One small, almost invisible way that beauty tried to reach me recently was..."

"When I thought nothing good was happening, I now realize that ___ was quietly taking place."

"If my purpose had a secret hiding place, it would be hidden in ___."

"The sacred showed up in my life last week disguised as ___."

These days, it’s easy to forget that the world can still be a mysterious and beautiful place. Taking a moment to spy the divine might help us rekindle awe and wonder in our everyday lives.

Maybe today is a good day to start.

Part Two: The Architecture of Storyworlds - New Video up at Liminal Lab

In Part Two of Chronotopes in Narrative Practice, we dive into the architecture of storyworlds, the metaphorical landscapes shaped by time and space that people inhabit when they come to therapy.

You'll learn how chronotopes like The Wasteland, The Waiting Room, The Fortress, and The Road shape experience, identity, and possibility.

Rather than pathologizing these experiences, we explore how noticing and naming them can offer new maps for movement, dignity, and change.
Through examples, reflection prompts, and a powerful closing activity, this session deepens your ability to see therapeutic work not as fixing problems, but as helping people navigate and reimagine the terrains they live within.

If you're inspired by this approach and want access to the full Chronotopes in Narrative Practice training and many other resources for therapists, students, and community workers, join us on the California Family Institute Patreon

Your support helps us keep creating accessible, future-shaping content for the next generation of narrative therapists. Thank you for walking this journey with us.

Peace.