The final week of any year contains many retrospectives. Top Ten lists, persons of the year, 50 Greatest Country Music videos (as if). Over the years, you will find many such entries in my journals, waxing eloquent…or dramatic at least…about the past twelve months as if they can be viewed as discrete, a block of time encapsulated unto itself.
Not this year.
Which is actually kind of funny, since I can easily say 2010 has been the best year of my adult life. For this reason, anyone would forgive me for indulging in a little rearview gazing. Perhaps the greatest boon of 2010, though, has been that I am reminded each day of the gift that is the present. As one year ends, and a new one begins, I feel a seamless joy radiating from my heart. Dramatic? Probably. But true nonetheless.
A few years ago, my sister Gwen started me on a tradition of making a vision (or dream) board for the coming year. If you have never made one, the idea is to create a collage of all the things you hope to accomplish or receive in the coming year…as a means of setting your intent, of putting out into the world your wishes and desires. No matter whether you believe in the power of intention, there is something to be said for “going public” with what you want — it makes it concrete in a way that thinking alone does not. As I sat to create my vision board for 2011, I realized that this year it might be difficult to do — very few magazine photos (used to create the collage) capture what my heart currently desires. A few of these items:
- To be brave enough to keep feeling, to be open (and yes, vulnerable) even though it hurts sometimes;
- To be unashamed of tears;
- A truly heavenly breakfast sandwich;
- That the people I love find their paths converging on inner peace and true happiness;
- Lots of time holding babies;
- That those I love who are “remaining fluid” (you know who you are) find or rediscover a few things in their lives that are stable and solid and worthy of trust (fluid is good, but you deserve steadfast too);
- Enough music, poetry, and laughter to make each day resonate;
- That I remember to be grateful for the ordinary, as well as the extraordinary; for the sorrows as well as the joys; for trials as well as abundance.
2010, with all the beauty and wonder it brought to my life, is at an end. It would be ok to feel a pang at its passing, but I can’t seem to feel anything but excitement to keep moving forward. So, with a nod to the British tradition of seamless succession (at least that’s how they do it in movies!), I say: one year is gone, and a new begins. Rejoice! Amen.