It has been a long time since I wrote a post. The New Year seems like a good time to share some thoughts.
I’ve been pretty deep in my cave, studying and immersing myself in a subject I haven’t explored in over 15 years.
And I’ve been drawing. And dancing. And cleaning. And doing magic. A lot of magic.
New Year’s Eve was spent with dear friends. Five of us. Sharing memories of 2013 and our intentions for 2014. It was peaceful, heart-centered, and just what I needed.
New Year’s day was spent with one of my best friends immersing ourselves in sacred conversation and laughter. Our intention was to do a new moon ritual and make vision boards. We hadn’t seen each other in a while and had both grown so much that we just had more to share than we had time for and did neither the ritual nor the vision boards.
I’ve been reflecting on the last few years, a lot.
I’ve watched old friends find new loves, people go through major and surprising transformations, the world change and stay the same…
My own life has seen huge shifts but they have been on the inside – my outer world looks largely the same.
I don’t know that the New Year is anything other than a marker – our delineation of time is ours alone. Nature is seamless and flowing, not chopped into compartments.
But it’s good to have symbols that make space for reflection and ritual.
While I don’t do resolutions, I do like to have a New Year intention, a word, that can hover over this coming year and shine as a reminder of my wholeness.
Over the last few years I have seen my surface grow calmer as something very deep in me has stirred and shifted. I have lost interest in the material world and the world of other people’s rules and expectations.
The more I turn inward, the more I discover the riches of my own fire. Lost riches. My magic and playfulness and inventiveness and deep connection with nature. And my wildness.
My intention for the New Year began to surface months ago: Reclamation. And it has led me down an interesting yellow bricked road of a wondrous nature.
The immersion in study that I mentioned earlier has been in my cultural heritage. In my heathen roots of the Norse people.
I have discovered a spiritual view of the world that I have held since I was a child. And the more I learn, the more astonished I am, the more hot I feel, the more alive I become.
It is deeply validating and giving me a framework for my own unfolding – my own reclamation.
The process brings with it an extraction – of myself from the grips of everything that is not true for me – everything that does not fit – many of these things being ideals and rules generally held by the larger world in which I live.
I’ve realized that since about the age of 4 or 5 I have been trying to figure out how to be something else, something besides my self. I am (according to the larger world in which I live) too wild, to unconventional, too connected, too free, too fiery, too independent, too bold, too weird.
And what makes me uncomfortable around people is not people, but the awkwardness of very subtly trying to be something I am not.
The magical friend I spent New Year’s Day with said “I figured out that being comfortable being myself means I only spend time with people who can love me as I am”.
It seems simple enough, yes? But how many of us do this? How many of us don’t make ourselves smaller than we are to fit into social boxes of convention and rules? How many of us live our truth, boldly, without withholding for fear of fall-out or backlash? How many of us surround ourselves with people who can love us, truly love us, as we are? (not tolerate, but celebrate)
Over the years I have pulled away from the bigger world, become more of a hermit than I have been since I homesteaded 500 acres in eastern Oregon so very many years ago.
And while I am still in my cocoon, gestating the changes that have been moving in me, I know that my next steps are to present my truth more fully so that the kindred folk in this world can see me, can find me.
I am very blessed with the loved ones I do have, don’t get me wrong. I have been very fortunate in the quality and depth of my relationships. But I do not fully have my tribe – I never really have. And I come from a tribal people, it’s in my blood.
When I first came upon the word Reclamation, I thought it was about reclaiming my magic and the parts of me I had forfeited in childhood. I had no idea I would be reclaiming so much more.
One of the beautiful things that has come from this process, this gestation, has been a snipping of ties with expectation and time. I feel this process will take as long as it will and I will learn what I am going to learn and then do whatever is next when it’s time to do whatever is next. My age, my circumstance, the outside world, has very little influence anymore.
I’m kind of in awe of the energy in my life, in my body, right now. I feel excited and humbled and enlivened and so very, very curious. It’s an incredible adventure.
Along with the changes I am going through has been the unexpected gift of letting go of any notions about how anyone else should do things. I feel more celebratory of others just doing their lives their way. I feel a spacious love in my heart that just wants to wrap the whole world up in a big warm hug and say “Yes! You are beautiful and sacred.”
These days I cry more easily and feel more deeply and love more potently, just like how I was before the outer world cracked through my magic.
There is no big lesson here, no “message”. I just wanted to share, from my heart to yours, what has been going on for me. Maybe something here touches you. That would be beautiful. But it is enough simply that we have connected for this moment. There is beauty in that.
Thank you for taking time in your life to spend a little of it with me today.
I hope this New Year brings much wonderful to you. Blessings.