Word for the Year: Tuesday's Reflection

Happy New Year!

Do you have any new year rituals? 

Along with starting a new journal and diving into closet and drawer cleaning, I listen for a word to guide me in the coming year. My word in 2018 was "devotion," which was a reminder to maintain my morning devotion practice, but also to pay attention to where I devoted my time and energy. In 2017 my word, actually words, was "sacred yes, sacred no," words that continue to challenge me. 

This year's word is:

                Spaciousness or Space

In recent years I have developed a fascination with the prairie. I have always loved being near BIG water, and the prairie inspires some of the same feelings--a feeling of openness and yes, spaciousness. There is room to stretch, to grow, to see beyond. I love the diversity of the prairie, also--how it changes with the seasons and how it supports such a wide range of plant and animal life. And, like water, there is always movement. The wind touches and talks with the grasses and wildflowers, and all I have to do is listen. (NOTE: You may not be able to play this short video, but if you do, you will hear the wind through the grasses.)

Being in the season of my 70's, I feel the need for greater spaciousness in my life. Yes, I want to continue to grow and stretch and to stay open and vibrant, but now I also look to the spaciousness of the prairie in an additional way. 

I need more open space in my life. I need to give myself space for restoration, space for stillness, for renewal of spiritual energy. Space to refuel. To focus. To maintain. To open to the movement of God within the space of my life, the span of my life. 

I am aware that I need to wrap myself in space between projects or big tasks or events. I am no longer as able to jump from one big thing to the next big thing. A writing friend said she thinks of surrounding herself with a moat when she needs to either prepare for or recover from something major in her life, even when the event itself is pleasurable and welcome. Although the moat imagery feels a bit restrictive and confining to me, I appreciate how it is a symbol of self-protection, self-care for my friend. Self-designated retreat and reflection time. 

Imagining myself standing in a prairie, I breathe. I unfold, and become present to the whispers of the Divine. The compelling calls of sacred yes, sacred no become clearer, less complicated. And in creating intentional spaciousness for myself, I believe I can be a more spacious presence to others.  

The days between Christmas and New Year's were spacious prairie days for me. The excitement and richness of Christmas and family time had become part of memory, and the pull into new year intentions and organization had not yet moved onto a To Do list. Instead, I spent lots of time reading in the snug, wrapped in a shawl. I had saved the new Louise Penny book just for that time and read it slowly, savoring it. I slept until my body, rather than my phone alarm, told me it was time to get up, and I went to bed when I no longer registered what was on the page in front of me. 

And now here we are in the new year and already what were blank squares on the calendar are filling with tasks, yes, but also delicious opportunities and interactions. I am overflowing with ideas for the coming months. How easy it would be to ignore my word of the year, to fill the available spaces. So how do I transform spaciousness from a concept to a spiritual practice? 

I am not exactly sure (that's why it is a practice!), but here are some thoughts.

1. Maintain my morning meditation time. There is always room for that, even when I don't think there is. I know from past history that when I bypass this morning time, there is less time in the day for everything that presses on the day. How that works I don't know, but it does.

2.  Stop and breathe deeply and slowly or do a couple T'ai Chi moves when I finish one task, even if it is just making the grocery list, before starting the next task. That pause gives me time to listen to my heart. 

3.  Create blocks of spacious time on my calendar. The advice of many writers is to make writing appointments with yourself and put them on the calendar. I have not had much luck with that in the past, but perhaps instead I need to mark the calendar with blank spaces. Give space priority and authority. 

4.   Pay attention to how spaciousness feels. The last few months I have tried to leave my garret at 4:00 --turn off the lights, leave the laptop behind--and move to the snug for some feet up reading time before I fix dinner. That feels spacious to me, as does quiet conversation with a friend or walking in the neighborhood, when there aren't icy sidewalks.  I feel a sense of the spacious, also, during stretches of writing time; time when I can fully immerse myself in the writing.  

5. Develop a closer relationship with "sacred yes/sacred no." Take my time to weigh when to exercise "yes" or when to adopt "no". 

This morning I read the following in a chapter about Mary in Jesus Approaches by Elizabeth M. Kelly: 

                  You are creating the space inside you for a

                   a child to grow, but don't actually meet the

                   child until he is born. It requires real faith--

                   that this child is growing and developing

                   and you continue to nourish your body as 

                   best you can, so that it remains a hospitable

                   place for the child...Giving Christ the room to

                   grow in us is actually quiet and hidden, but it

                   doesn't mean that nothing is happening. Even

                   when it is quiet and seemingly empty, it is

                   often those times that the Lord is working and

                   growing in you the most.

In spaciousness I meet what is growing within. 

An Invitation

Have you discovered a word beckoning to you for this year? I would love to know