It's already been a busy 2009. Despite having spent 10 of the first 14 days of January in Maui and Molokai, I have had a little time to reflect. I no longer waste time making resolutions that are rarely kept, let alone remembered by March. I find few people I know need any more disappointment in their lives. We only come to personal change when we are truly ready for it, not on a timeline imposed by the calendar.
In my humble opinion, what people seem to need instead is some real hope. Not bumper sticker slogan hope or feel good movie hope, but something tangible in front of us that we recognize and can embrace. A belief that good will win out in the end and that some meaning and purpose for our lives will become clear, despite the times, our personal setbacks, and dire media predictions of gloom that choke our thinking. We need this hope without the club of religion to guilt us or a set of rules to live by that constrict and separate us from one another and our true selves. How then can we individually and collectively cultivate this vision of hopeful goodness within ourselves and others this year? How can we make this year a meaningful year? One that feels more comfortable to the touch and less like an accident.
My ideas are nothing new, but I believe the questions are worth asking again and again. Living is an experiment, and while there's a terrifying element in that there's also a kind of redemptive quality in the knowledge that when experiments fail the scientist still values the experience greatly because s/he has learned what doesn't work-and this knowledge is key. I am inviting myself to reflect on what doesn't work or what hasn't worked as a guide to my 2009 of hopeful, good living. In this way, I acknowledge the failed experiments of my life, are grateful for them anyway, honor the benefit of the experience, and finally, forgive myself when others can't or won't, for these unworkable, sometimes painful things.
The new year is a tender time. Just released from the joy and obligations of the holidays and the surprises and frustrations that go with them, it seems ideal to pause and ruminate on our fragility and serious imperfections. Don't buy the old adage "out with the old, in with the new" and leave all the complex learning you need to do buried in the mold of last year. While we rush into the next new phase, we miss the opportunity to reap the rewards of our disasters. To actually step back and breathe, to think-yes, think deeply and mindfully about where the hell you've been, what that means, and if you even want to be on that road. Does it work?
Our unique and fascinating humanness is like an endless puzzle. Just when you think you've found all your pieces, you find another one under the couch and can't quite figure out where it fits...or better yet you can't find the piece you need at all. The picture remains incomplete. Embrace that moment of becoming in yourself, without trying so hard to get there. I and almost everyone else I know are missing it! We are all missing all the dirty, sticky, ugly, messy beauty along the way thinking we should actually be someplace other than where we are right now.
This year I hope to be quiet and listen to the sounds of my life. I hope to cultivate the vision of hopeful goodness by being more of a listener. Encourage someone else to raise their voice and pay them the respect of your sincere, attentive interest. Step up when called (as you are able) and do the thing that nobody else wants to do-be the example for positive action and change. When words are necessary, make them gentle. As for meaning and purpose, perhaps they are to be found in the hopeful goodness. One concept running into the other until it's really all the same thing. Maybe what we are looking for is contentment. And that, dear friends, is found only on the inside-so listen, mindfully, carefully, kindly to yourself. In each moment we start again, not just in the new year. There is hope all around us and in us and through us. It's just a matter of stopping, thinking, and clearing our path of what doesn't work. All that will be left is what does.
Peace, cw
No comments:
Post a Comment