Thanks for reading here at The Nature of Things… this week I am getting vulnerable and publishing a poem of mine after the reflection. This poem and the reaction to it from a few close confidants are part of the impetus for creating this substack. I am grateful you are here. Please join the community by subscribing.
Most years I reflect upon a “word or phrase of the year” to set a theme or tone. Based on what feels most present for me I turn some words over in my mind and heart for a good while and then arrive at what feels true.
As I leaned into this I realized it was really a revolutionary practice for me given that I used to be heavily into aggressive goal setting and dabbled in the New Year’s Resolution camp for a while. Until I realized the whole thing was a scam and setup for a self-abusive mindset and behavior that never left me any happier (or more improved… as if I needed to be “fixed” when the clock struck midnight during the turning of a new year).
It has been a number of years since I fell down those rabbit holes and yet something still felt like it was missing. Even with a theme I found myself trying to justify what I really want.
While still deeply in the messy middle, I can say the last year has taught me a great deal about naming and asking for what I actually want and need (not what I think I should). And it is a lot harder than it sounds.
First there is the discerning what I really want. Then the tumbling of that gem around to rub all the BS and old habits off to be certain it is what I want.
Once it feels clear, then comes the mental wrestling match and waves of emotion and judgment about the whole thing.
Do I deserve to have it?
Is it too silly/frivolous/privileged, etc.?
What will others think?
Can I have this?
What if I really want it and don’t get it?
Wouldn’t it just be “easier” to not want it and proactively avoid disappointment?
It’s a whole thing…
Then if I emerge from this mental circus with my want still intact, I still have to be brave enough to ask for it, claim it, do whatever it takes to move toward that thing.
It explains why it can feel so hard to want what I want and then take action to create that.
Maybe you can relate?
How my phrase of the year took on a life of its own…
As I was in the “tumbling over” phase of my phrase for this year, I had the joy of doing a virtual retreat in the breathwork community I am a part of (if you don’t know Amy Kuretzky’s work you need to.) The idea of turning tenderly toward my longing came up for me and in a mini-mastermind session I had this idea validated for me.
I got to thinking about what does this really mean? If I could explain it in an image, it would be the way time stands still when I see a magical moment in nature.
Time stands still. I drop what I am doing, physically turn toward the magic (often with my camera in tow) and breathe deeply. I let it sink into my bones. I embrace the awe and wonder of it all. My cup is full.
I want more of that. Not just in the peak experiences but in everyday life.
So with a hat tip to this notion, I skipped the phrase and wrote a poem instead.
I hope you enjoy it.
Turn toward your yearning
Now is the time To turn toward your yearning. The whispers that have lived in far corners of your heart Afraid to be heard Staying hidden Scared of being pushed further away Of having their fragile innocence shattered By the fears of unrelenting expectations along a path prescribed by a world that represses and eradicates magic Every chance it gets. Today emerges the chance to Trade tenacity for tenderness Replace forgone conclusions with childlike curiosity Peek through the brokenness and crack the door open To the possibility Of beginning again Of forging a new path Turning gently in the direction Of this voice And walking there.
And now for the daily practice of walking there.
Beautiful. Takes courage, commitment, patience, and grace to turn toward and stay there. Thank you Paula.