~ A Joy Warrior's Journey
Not all days are made for playing outside.
Some days, if you have any sense at all,
are better spent examining the stitching
on the quilt, trying to decide whether the pink
flowers or the blue ones are your favorites.
If worse comes to worse, you could play
Tease the Dog. But for my part, the quilt
is the thing. Hide there. Grab a nap.
Dream of sunshine. That’s the way, I say,
to spend a winter day.
Shelter. It’s what they give; it’s what they do.
Humans, birds, insects, fungi, squirrels.
Who doesn’t matter at all. Only the need.
Show them that and whatever they have
is yours for the taking. Here, tuck yourself in,
they say. Let me keep you from the storm.
I was sipping my first cup of morning coffee,
watching the gentle flicker of the flames through
the wood stove’s door, gazing out the window
at the waltz of the spruce boughs and the snow.
As usual, my thoughts drifted to my loved ones,
my family, my close friends. A year ago, the soft
realization came, this one’s husband was still here,
this one’s son, this one’s long-time friend.
May peace fill the emptiness that they left behind.
I rose to take my empty cup (May they be comforted.)
to the sink, and peering through the window above it
saw, as if in a dream, a flock of mourning doves
perched on the branches of a tree and the wire,
motionless as the snow fell around them.
Imagine yourself in a land not all that far away,
beneath wondrous clouds that wear,
from time to time (depending on
their moods and the singing of the sky)
every color of the rainbow and some
that even the rainbow hasn’t yet worn.
And here, in this one special spot, almost exactly
in the very middle of nowhere, magical wands
rise from shimmering drifts of new-fallen snow
that stretch to the most distant edge of the horizon.
(You know, the edge that dreams float from at sunrise
just before they melt into the sky.) And from this
near-center of things, the wands beam waves
of warmth and encouragement and sunlight
to all the sleeping seeds who dream beneath the layers
of the earth envisioning the forms they’ll wear
when they dance in the soft winds of spring.
And if you are very quiet as you walk here,
in the snowy near-middle of nowhere, you can sense
the going forth of the wands’ beams, and you just might
feel their quickening touch whisper across
some dream seeds of your own.
You never know.
Happy New Year, my Friend!
Even though this is my first Sunday Letter of the year, I’m happy to tell you that I have no intention of telling you how to make good resolutions or how to set goals.
But I do want to share with you a practice that has been especially helpful and meaningful to me for a few years now. I think of it as a kind of guiding light that shows me the way.
What I do is take some time at the year’s start to think about a quality I most want to develop or express in my life during the coming year, and then to pick a word or brief phrase to represent it – one that will act both as my reminder and my guiding light during the coming year.
You may have heard about this practice; it’s becoming more and more popular as people discover the power of it to keep themselves focused on an ideal that has genuine meaning for them.
To give you an idea of the kinds of things people pick, here are a few words-of-the-year that I’ve seen people adopt:
Productive
Learning
Healthy
Persistent
One Thing at a Time
Why Not!
Friendship
Loving-Kindness
Sobriety
Honest
Brave
Finishing
Fun
Grateful
Creative
Forgiving
Centered
At Ease
The phrase “Why not!” was my guiding phrase for the past year and it nudged me past the boundaries of my comfort zone, inviting me to try new experiences, and to be more confident and daring. It taught me to have faith in my ability to handle the unforeseen and to be more at ease about putting myself in unfamiliar circumstances.
I’m keeping my choice of a word private this year, but I can tell you that already it has begun to impact my life and to show up in surprising, interesting, and even humorous ways.
Choosing a guide word for the year ahead has been much more powerful for me, and easier, than making ponderous, almost guaranteed-to-fail resolutions. It has flexibility to it. It allows me complete freedom in choosing how to let its influence play out in my life.
To select a word or phrase to guide you through the year, think about what would enrich you the most, or what would bring you a heightened sense of well-being or mastery or satisfaction. You can think about what aspects of your life you’ve neglected, or about the kinds of things that would give you a good stretch, or provide the greatest sense of achievement, or fulfillment, or joy to your life.
That’s the biggest clue, by the way: pick something that makes you smile inside, something that says, “Yeah! I want of more of that!”
Don’t get all tangled up in having to choose the perfect word or phrase. Sometimes you don’t nail exactly what it is you were trying for with your first effort. But stick with whatever word or phrase you do choose for a couple weeks anyway. You’ve probably come close enough, and if a more precise word or phrase comes along, you can adopt it when it announces itself to you. Nobody’s watching or keeping score.
Once you’ve chosen a word or phrase, think of a way to remember it every day – jot it on your calendar, for example, or write it on your mirror or with invisible ink on the palm of your hand. Then play with it. Let it sing or chant itself in your mind. Remind yourself of it in the morning as you begin your day. As your day ends, look where it played out in your life, the ways it influenced your attitude or your choices. See what synchronicity it brings you. Notice the ways you noticed it. Think of it as an invisible friend traveling along with you as you go about your day, nudging you when choices and opportunities come along.
Think about it. See if a particular guide word or theme is calling to you. Keep listening as you go about your day. And when you hear it, tuck it in your memory. See how it plays out in your life.
It’s a lollapalooza of a practice.
Wishing you a superb week as you begin this New Year!
Warmly,
Susan
Image by Larissa K at pixabay.com
The bears, I firmly believe, have it right.
The only sensible response to this cold
is to sleep until the strawberries ripen,
or are, at least, in flower.
Until shoots of fresh green appear, or brave crocuses
push through a sweep of lingering snow,
eyelids ought to be closed and dreams
of sun-warmed meadows set free.
Now and then say a prayer for the tiny birds,
no bigger than a child’s closed hand, who brave
a cold so deep that creatures ten times larger,
a hundred times, cannot endure its chill.
Watch them dance from branch to branch,
from tree to tree, scattering their chirps
like seeds of joy, as if all life were play,
regardless of its hardships.
Maybe that’s the secret these winged ones
came to tell. All is play, made for our gladness,
even when the winds are harsh and cold
and snow falls.
Wherever you are, move back
a quarter mile, float until you’re maybe
twenty feet above the ground, higher
if you like. Notice the lighting of the scene,
the bright tones, the shadows,
the reflections. Stare at the colors,
the way they contrast and blend.
Then let yourself hear the soundtrack
of it all, the way it captures the mood
and makes the whole of it look
like the opening scene of a movie.
Imagine you’re the star. Zoom in
until you see yourself there, ready
to make your next move. What
will it be? How will it feel, with
this vast panorama surrounding you
and this music playing in the air?
Look how the weeds lay here, bent,
leaning, and yet catching the light just so.
The Yes creates such haphazard beauty,
unintended, yet inevitable, I suppose–
an expression of its nature, a variant of its song.
And look how it’s hidden, right here
in plain sight. You could walk by and think it
was no more than a tumble of weeds.
But I think it’s a gift, waiting for an artist’s eye,
or a lover’s.
Here at the beginning of the Year of Magic,
we gather with those of the same feather,
those who know the power of their dreams.
We sit in silence, facing the East, the birthplace
of all the tomorrows, building our visions,
the electric currents humming beneath
our feet, feeling the strength of fellowship
here on the wire at the start of this sacred day.
We read the shapes and colors of the clouds.
We listen to the breathing of the air and hear
the songs of nascent dreams chanting
in one another’s hearts. And when we are filled
with the knowing, we fly off, one by one,
to begin, to do the holy work, to sing the Yes,
to claim the fresh hours as our own.