The solstice, Yule, Christmas and the New Year have all come and gone. Moments for reflection. Clear out the old. Welcome in the new.
The newspapers and my Facebook feed are full of “new year, new you” messages.
The spiritual community was ablaze for a while with images of planners and resources to get the most out of 2020 through intention setting and journalling; valuable tools to help us shape and create our path forward.
I began reading a motivating book about claiming your goals, your dreams, powering through and letting go of the limitations which we set ourselves.
With my mind I want to get on this train. I’m ready. I want to embrace the poweful energy of new beginnings. I want to set intentions and step up!
My body has other ideas. I’ve had a major crash this week health-wise. For the first time in about three years I’ve needed to use my stick to walk. Managing daily tasks requires monumental effort. I am not sleeping well. I wake up in pain every morning. In addition there’s a sense that what I want out of life is changing.
I still want to serve, to create, to embrace the spiritual geek within me. I still long for our own home and for adventures.
I feel that the way I’m going to travel there is different.
My word for this year is “patience.” I chose this because I have tended to deal with life’s circumstances with a hefty dose of denial. Rather than working with the grain and pattern of situations I ignore them or attempt to grind them down through sheer dint of my will.
This is exhausting.
I have tried this approach for most of the last decade. Setting goals. Making plans. Yet something in me means that inevitably I find intention-setting becomes a stick with which I beat myself. When my body is craving rest and a slower pace I feel I “ought to” be trotting along to catch up with the pack. If this was a physical race I literally couldn’t keep up right now. I wonder why I’m still trying to do so emotionally and mentally.
This journey for me is becoming one of being “un-intentional”. I know where I am headed. If anything my core desires are clearer now than they have ever been. But the intentions I have are for a long span of time, they won’t be achieved this week, or month, or maybe even this year.
A spiritual director I worked with once suggested a “God box”. This was somewhere were you put the things you hoped for long term. She suggested I write down the things I wanted and place them, prayerfully, in the box. Over time, she said, I would be able to revisit it and see my prayers answered.
I’m going to do this again. Gently. Share my secret wishes with the all that is, make a promise to myself. Accept that the path is different now.
There may be beautiful surprises waiting if I make space for the unintentional.