Word for the Year: Thursday's Reflection

Two notes before today's reflection.
1. I've discovered that many of you have not been able to add a comment to a post. In fact, I haven't been able to reply to comments that have been successfully posted. Apparently, this is not just a problem for my blog, but many others, as well. I have been told the problem is being addressed. We'll see! In the meantime, my apologies and my thanks for reading my blog.

2.  Many of you know that both our grandaughter Maren and our daughter Kate have had surgery this week. Maren's surgery on her foot was scheduled for Tuesday morning, but a clinic snafu postponed it to this morning. In fact, she is having surgery as I write this. She will be home later today. Kate had surgery yesterday for swallowing issues and what was intended to be a 4-5 hour surgery turned into eight hours. It went well, but was more complicated than anticipated. She won't be home for a few days. Mike is a busy loving father and husband! Bruce and I feel blessed to live close-by and to be able to respond to whatever is needed. Thanks for all your prayers and good wishes. 

Now....here's today's post.

On Tuesday, January 14, I described the collage I made, hoping it would reveal my word of the year. I hoped (expected?) that when I completed the collage the word would magically reverberate in my mind and heart. Well, that didn't happen.

Some of you suggested words for me to consider--and what good words they are.
                  Flow
                  Vibrance
                  Resonance
                  Bridge
                  Connection

Before making the collage on Sunday, I wondered if my word was "unknown," for I entered the new year with a sense of unknowing. I think Kate and Maren's surgeries were driving that, but, also, the fact that I had not worked on my memoir all of November and December, and I was uncertain about re-entering that process. Much of December I had the flu and as I recovered, I admit I enjoyed the slower pace, the open space for reading and doing not much of anything. Was it time to pull back from some of my activities and plans? Was it time to settle into a life with fewer involvements?

During my morning meditation time soon after making the collage, I wrote in my journal about what I saw in the collage--vibrant color, richness, movement, variety. I wrote,
               I don't think the variety is a distraction from
               any one thing I am supposed to do. I attend to 
               my relationships and am grateful for the wide 
               circle of friends and family in my life. I am 
               not someone who flits from one thing to another.
               I complete my tasks, my projects. Generally.
               Variety speaks to my interests, to opportunities 
               that keep appearing, to a real fullness in my life
               right now. 

                             Fullness

That's it. I knew it in a flash. Fullness is my word for 2020. 

Living with fullness does not mean rushing around and filling every minute with activity nor doing everything I have done in the past or am currently doing. Instead, I think it means living with a sense of abundance and awareness of the richness in my life. In order to do that, I need to be aware of when I feel overwhelmed or more drained than energized. Discernment is still necessary. Staying awake to the sacred in my life is key. 

Note the presence of an empty bench in the collage--a reminder to maintain space for stillness. In this case the blank page in my journal led me to "fullness."

                 When we arrive at where we're supposed
                 to be in life--where we know that we have 
                 finally come home to the fullness of ourselves--
                 there will be no desire to leave it, only the need
                 to plumb it.  
                                         Joan Chittister
                                         The Art of Life

An Invitation
Is any word whispering to you? I would love to know. 

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