Here it is the middle of January. Already. I have been writing about intentions, and yet, I don't seem to have any. Sure, I want to write more and eat less. Exercise more and eat less. I want to disperse more possessions and acquire less, (and eat less!) but these not unfamiliar notions are vague and uninspiring at best.
I am impressed by my friend who last year set her intention to walk an hour every day, and I am intrigued by the writer Susan Hill who decided to read for one whole year only books she already owned. (Howard's End is on the Landing, A Year of Reading from Home by Susan Hill). Or how impressive is Nina Sankovitch who read an entire book every single day and discovered a way to cope with and grow through grief and loss (Tolstoy and the Purple Chair, My Year of Magical Reading). And then there is the memorable and entertaining decision to cook every recipe in Julia Child's iconic French cookbook in one year, which resulted in a bestselling memoir and a movie starring Meryl Streep no less. Finally, yesterday I read about a Madison woman who was preparing to turn 60 last year and set 60 goals for herself, including climbing 60,000 feet, practicing the piano for 60 minutes for 60 days, reading 6,000 pages, identifying 60 birds in Costa Rica and doing 60 push-ups at one time. I am almost grateful I am past 60 and not tempted to follow her example, but 65 looms!
On the surface some of these intentions seem gimmicky, and yet, underneath there seems to be a desire for transformation. Were these women of intention aware of the potential for inner growth that could result by meeting the challenges of one's intentions? And just what did they learn and how did they change by keeping their intentions? And how did they arrive at their specific intentions?
I can feel an idea forming; an idea that has its origin in several seemingly unrelated circumstances. Bear with me.
#1 In December I walked a labyrinth, and one of the messages I received as I stood in the sacred center space was, "Do what expresses your essence." I also heard "Do and Be who you are." I was so struck by the word "do," for this last decade I think I have been focused on "being" and what that means. But twice I heard the word "DO." No direction about what to do was offered, of course.
#2 This summer a woman I know, but not well, was struck with a dreadful cancer and was in the hospital for quite some time. I knew I wanted to DO something, but I was unsure of what that should be, could be. I decided after some time for discernment to write to her every day while she was in the hospital. I continue to write to her occasionally even now. As I wrote to her during those weeks, I felt I was doing one good thing. I was offering a measure of reflection, a daily meditation. I was extending wishes for healing. I was opening to connection. For at least those moments every day I held her in my heart.
#3 I have a wonderful antique desk, my Lady's Writing Desk, which has been the setting, the container for hours and hours of writing over the years. Journals and essays and teaching plans and yes, letters. Lots and lots of letters. Its location in this house, however, has never felt quite right to me. When I did sit there, I felt shoved in a corner, boxed in, and my energy felt blocked. And guess what? I have written few letters since living here; something I had always enjoyed in the past. Well, dear reader, I moved my Lady's Writing Desk, and the pleasure of writing letters, the desire to write on paper, instead of a screen, has returned.
Therefore, here is my intention for this year: I will write a letter every day. I don't have this all figured out yet, but I know this is something I can DO and need to DO and that DOING it is an expression of my essence. I know deep in my heart that when we live our essence the Sacred, the Divine, is more visible and is felt and known more.
I will start today. Day #1 of my intention. Letter #1.
I am paying attention not only to when I use the word "intention," but also to times when I wish I had used it. I recall years ago when I struggled with "forgiveness." I said "I forgive," but I didn't feel it at that point. How much more honest it would have been if I had said, "I intend to forgive."
Forgiving is a process, and I had not yet done the inner work to arrive at a clear and clean forgiveness.
I was fairly sure I would get there. Everything in my heart wanted to be there, but it wasn't fair of me to state my forgiveness when I didn't feel it yet. Eventually, I arrived at that holy place, but how different it would have been if I had first said "My intention is to forgive fully and completely." An intention holds within it an obligation to do your very best to fulfill it. An intention is not an empty promise. An intention is a direction, a movement forward, an expression of one's heart, an opening to one's essence.
When has the word "intention" created an opening in your life? I am impressed with one example I read in a friend's blog and invite you to be inspired by her story. http://coachnotes.wordpress.com/2012/01/10/happy-new-year-and-hooray-for-daily-walks/
Light Blessings to you as you explore your intentions for the new year.
For the last couple months I have not consistently taken time for morning meditation and devotional time, even though I know how life-enhancing that time is. With the new year, however, I re-instated my intention to set-aside time for morning centering prayer, study and journal writing time.
All was well till Friday morning when my normal routine was up for grabs--a first thing in the morning electrician appointment, a date to celebrate a friend's birthday, and the usual list of To Do tasks. About 20 minutes before I knew the doorbell would ring, I was dressed and ready for the day and I wondered what I should do now. Empty the dishwasher? Answer some emails? Pay bills? Fold towels? When several possibilities float effortlessly to my awareness OR when no ideas are present, I know it is time to clear the space. Close my eyes and take a deep breath. Find my rhythm and allow the whisper of my inner voice to be heard. "Sit with your journal and your devotional materials." Of course.
My current study book, a book I am sure will be on my "favorites" list for 2012 is Awakening the Energies of Love, Discovering the Fire for the Second Time by Anne Hillman and what do I read? Referring to legends passed throughout the generations, Hillman says ".... they intended our lives--propelled us and set us on our Way.
Intended! How I love the way language flowered in the minds of my ancestors! How the ancient Latin, tendere--to stretch, to grow, to strive--exploded into bloom! It brought us intent...intention.....and tendency...And although we may discover that 'stretching' and 'growing' is not without intensity or tension--it is also not without tenderness and our yearning to tend--whether a fire or a child to another person." (Note: the italics are the writer's.)
Wow! How's that for synchronicity? The day before I had written my first blog post about "intention" in my new blog and here it shows up in my morning study material --material I almost didn't read in favor of doing other things. I wonder how often I miss these kinds of gifts because I haven't cleared the space.
Intention is a key word for me and Hillman has given me much more to consider. I so often use the word "tend," especially "home tend," and yet had not connected it to "intention" nor had I thought specifically about how intention is related to stretching and growing. I could feel little ah-ha sparks of energy as I read those words. My intention is to stretch, to grow, but I do understand growth and stretching is not without tension and intensity. Shadow and light. Ah, this journey of intentions promises to offer unanticipated adventures and unknown depths. I will need to remember to be tender with myself and those around me as well.
Where are your intentions leading you?
Earlier this week the question of resolutions came up while exercising and one of the women said, "None I care to share." We chuckled in agreement, but later I thought about my lack of resolutions this year. Heaven knows, I could repeat the same resolutions from over the years. "Lose x number of pounds." "Exercise x times a week." The usual suspects.
Instead, the word that comes to mind this year is intention. My intention is to live a more compassionate life. My intention is to be mindful in action and in thought. My intention is to deepen my spirituality and to grow closer to the person I was created to be.
It is with these intentions resting in my heart that I begin this new blog--a continuation really of my earlier blog, The Sacred Sixties. Through writing I clear the space and in that reflective opening, there is room for new insights and understandings.
How easy it would be to revert to the usual pattern of resolutions. "This year I will write in my blog x times a week." Instead, my intention is to develop this blog as a spiritual tool, knowing that it is only through frequent and mindful use that a spiritual practice bears fruit. And with this intention comes an invitation to you. I invite you to clear space for your own spiritual growth and to share your thoughts as we move though this year. Perhaps we will each develop a new spiritual practice. Light blessings to you in this new year.
