At the close the last month, at the turn of the year, we crossed a threshold. This one significant in what we share. Time passes for all of us. My hope for you is that in this threshold there was a pause. That standing in between an ending and a beginning of a year, that this moment of time was generous in quiet, strong in presence. That in this pause you found reprieve and renewal: quiet to reflect on all that you lived last year, on what you’d like to hold close, on what you’d like to let go of, too, and energy to name your intentions, your hopes and dreams for this year.
I certainly looked forward to a quiet start. I always love the turn of the year, the clean page of the notebook, the morning when the day stretches forth with possibility, the freedom in it all. In the spirit of when I last wrote to you, I looked forward to rest to restore energy and clarity to the brimming hopes and dreams I hold for this year. This was not necessarily a reflection of the fullness of my house – my children still had a full week off of school – but rather of the break that can come from a week without obligation other than to each other. My intention for this week was a singular one – to be together – and the simplicity of that was a form of quiet. The close of last year was just this: a happy blend of planned family events, unscheduled days, and of course, time outside and time together. Then, on the first night of the first day of the year, my daughter’s voice quivered in the darkness of our bedroom, “Mama, I vomited.” Surely, the evidence was right there with her, and at midnight, my husband and I hopped up to wash and change and calm her. So began a night filled with runs to the toilet and days of unease in caring for a sick child.
This was not the start I’d imagined, which was also an end to our winter holiday together. With my daughter sick, I was just trying to get through and the freedom of a new year felt impossible. No way did I have time or space or energy to reflect on new year’s intentions; I barely had time to check my email. Time, these first few days of the year, were marked by the rhythms of care and the lingering fear of what else might drop.
In truth, the none of us enter the new year unscathed. And the distance between expectation and reality, even of this threshold time, can be deflating. Our intentions for this year are born of the truths of who we are and of our lived experience. And this – who we are, how we have survived and thrived – does not change with the turn of a calendar. Your intentions and your hopes and dreams for how you would like to show up and what you would like to reach for this year can withstand the winds of a day.
I began this week feeling a little untethered; still rocked by uncertainty and dazed by the unexpected timelessness of last week, tired, frankly, from a week of sickness. I dove into this week with the wild determination to make up lost time.Gradually, as this week unfolds, I’m settling to possibility that my intentions for the year are born of my intentions for today. That moment to moment, these intentions unfold alongside all I cannot predict or control. The days that my child gets sick or I oversleep or a work project absorbs all other plans are not blips. These unruly and unpredictable moments are as much a part of me as are my intentions, my hopes, my dreams. The year – which is no more to say than my living – is not all dreamy, blue-sky days; there will be clouds, and to ignore those moments, denies me the whole of my experience and places in unnecessary conflict my hopes and dreams with my lived experience. Both are true to who I am and to how I show up this year.
So, before you dive back into your intentions, can you give yourself a pause, even if its five minutes between meetings or before bed? In this threshold moment – the turn of the year or getting through the day, even – what are you most proud of? what would you like to acknowledge for yourself? what would you like to let go of? After a pause, another breath will carry you forward. After a pause, you can return to your intentions, your hopes and dreams, hand in hand with your day.
on definitions
Intention. A form of commitment, as I use the term here, to yourself and to your values, hopes and dreams, intention is rooted in the concept of stretching out and of giving attention to; intention can be both an act of presence and of hope in some future action or change.
Hope. One meaningful definition that I draw on when using the word hope is the definition and research of psychologist Charles Snyder: a blend of a person’s perceived agency (or “goal-directed energy”), and pathways, or planning, to accomplish specific goals.
Dream. I use this word broadly and it is that intersection of action and goal that gives hope to our dreams; dreams, lived during our resting hours, give meaning to our waking ones.
in practice
As we close one year, and begin another, I invite you to join me in this reflection. This is one form of the pause, and it can be a useful exercise not only at the turn of the year, in setting intentions for another, but in any transition: to see and acknowledge the changes that you live through day in and day out and to continue to live and direct your live in alignment with your values and priorities.
Find a quiet and open space, and take some time to answer the following questions. As you reflect, I encourage you to handwrite as you are able and to write freehand. You may choose to distill this reflection into goals at a later time, however, the purpose of this exercise is simply put on the page your heart and mind’s reflections.
- What would you like to affirm for yourself today at the close of the year?
- Read through your reflection and harvest a few affirmations for yourself, for example – I am here. I survived. I learned from my mistakes. I am deserving of the blessings of this year. I am worthy and beloved. Write them down in your journal.
- In reflecting on intentions as a commitment, both of attention and action, what are your intentions for yourself this year?
- How do your affirmations from last year inform intentions for this year?
- When your days feel off balance and you feel apart from your intentions, your hopes and dreams, how will your intentions support you?
After completing this exercise, read through your responses, and then sit with them. You may choose to close your eyes, feeling your feet on the floor, your hands light on your lap, your head rising tall. You are grounded and open. Take a breath, in through your nose, and out through your mouth. Your breath is air, light and easy, there’s no holding, only you, breathing, being in this moment. Continue to breath, in and out, in and out. Notice your breath in this moment. When you are ready, notice your head, how it rises from your shoulders, and move down your body, notice each part of you in this moment, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. When you are ready, open your eyes. You are here. Grounded in your reflection – your affirmations & intentions – in a word or phrase, how do you choose to show up today?