“The very least you can do in your life is figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance, but live right in it, under its roof.” – Barbara Kingsolver
What do you wish for in 2017?
What do you really, truly want?
Who do you want to be?
I’m not asking for your tepid, realistic wish. I’m not asking for a shrug of the shoulders, or for a normal expectation that you already expect will be fulfilled next year.
Your Big wish. Your Giant wish. Your Move-Across-The-Country kind of wish.
Your May-Everything-That-Does-Not-Align-With-This-Wish-Fall-Away-Easily kind of wish.
* * *
2016 was my year of big change. After several years of ennui…. 2016 began, and I suddenly was teaching yoga for the first time, publishing my first book, and starting a new life in Texas.
2016 kept me nimble. 2016 kept me humble. 2016 kept me centered —present to the undercurrent of my emotions.
In June 2016, my manifestation of moving to Austin came true. I gave two months’ notice to my job, and in those months I was able to slowly say goodbye to my 26 years spent in Chicago.
My life in Illinois was more beautiful than I ever gave it credit for, and upon leaving I was finally able to SEE that with a new crystalline clarity. I kissed that life goodbye on my own terms.
2016 kept me genuine. 2016 reminded me that humans still want authentic connection. In our anger, our despair, our fierceness – we still want to be seen, and we still want to know that our personal upheavals are universal… even as the entire world seems to crash around us.
(Yes, I’m referring to the 2016 election. But that’s a blog post for another day.)
2016 kept me confused. I’m not sure what I’m “doing” with my writing anymore. I see people posting long soulful spouts of authentic writing on Instagram and facebook, and I see them getting popular, and I think “Wait… I could be doing that!”
But I’m not sure what feels real to me anymore.
I’m not sure why I bounce between these intense periods of full-tilt passion and aimless meandering. And I’m not always sure how to bounce back.
I guess that’s what 2017 is all about.
* * *
In 2017, my resolution is to tap into my intuition. To recommit to an intuitive, creative flow. I want to learn how to listen into my heart before I get siphoned away into seeking help from outsiders and experts.
Somewhere inside of me, I know what I want. And I know my next step. But that knowingness feels muddy, and I often resort to scrolling numbly through social media, looking at all of the feel-good advice and success that others have to show.
No more of that.
Every creative revelation, every beautiful piece of writing, every synchronistic moment and wow-I-just-foretold-the-future dream has sprouted from that place of free-flowing intuition. And while I feel disconnected from it right now, 2017 is the year I will tune into it again.
So I dusted off my copy of Sonia Choquette’s The Psychic Pathway and began to reread it. A yellowing CVS receipt from August 2011 fell out of the pages, acting as a bookmark from the last time I looked at the book. On the receipt I purchased 1 item of Ghirardelli chocolates at 11:48 AM on a Tuesday.
It’s time to tune back in to whoever I was in that moment.
* * *
May you hold the fiery embers of your wishes in your heart –
even if the wishes change their shape,
even if they leave curled-up scraps of withered cocoons behind.
May you honor every wish you’ve ever held,
even (especially) the ones that never came to life.
Even when the remnants of your dead wishes haunt you like flags shivering in the background.
Make a little room to surprise yourself.
May you step into your light and be brave enough to let everything else go –
may it all fall behind you in a shedding, in a goodbye so peaceful and abrupt
that you barely have time to retreat into smallness.
Even if it means dumping your partner (finally).
Even it means taking the deep breath you didn’t know you wanted (thank you).
Even if it means sweeping emotional tumult (grateful underneath).
Even if it means the pieces of your life that are “Just fine, thank you very much” start to crumble away (cheer their collapse).
May you stretch a little braver, expand a little further, and act a little bigger –
all from the hot glistening holiness of your heart.
May you panic less.
May you chat with the Universe more.
May you keep your eyes open for the tiny daily miracles.
May the new year bring you everything you need,
and may it especially bring you
everything you didn’t know you needed.
Peace, Miracles, and New-Year-New-You vibes,