Morning, for another hour. Sitting cozy in the living room with a fire crackling and some very grand Viennese waltzes on public radio. Belly full of Irish Oatmeal with pecans and maple syrup. Texting New Year’s wishes with Cheshire and another friend. Working though resolutions and a late holiday letter. Dithering really. Trying very hard, and succeeding very well to allow for the simple joys of the day to wash over me.
One overarching resolution rises to the surface, although my articulation of it falters: to allow. To allow without pushing. To allow and embrace what comes. To allow and accept. To allow and open to the bumps in the journey and the smooth parts too. To allow in the present without reference to regrets from the past or expectations of the future. To plan, to be sure, plan Julia’s school work for today and tomorrow, plan returning to Italy, plan to learn Italian, plan to see friends and movies and theater, plan Mindful Circle and plan on writing, plan on healing my body and becoming strong. But to do so without thought of success or failure, without expectation and grasping.
Is this a resolution or a fantastical wish? Or both?
And one more. To be grateful for all of it. Good, wonderful, fantastic, sad, frustrating and down right heart breaking. To feel the privilege of every breath.
And then to comment on this picture. My favorite photo of the last year. Taken at the Museo Egizio de Torino, Egyptian Museum of Turin. These two little vessels found in some ancient tomb. Most of that wonderful museum is serious and impressive, the best Egyptian tomb collection that I have ever seen, possibly in the world. But when I set eyes on these two little vessels, found in some noble tomb, I laughed out loud. Such silliness. Such idiosyncrasy. Such character. So, so, so different from everything else! Were these done by a master burial potter? Or his 9 year old off spring? Did they really belong in the tomb or were they snuck in to delight the maker? Or were they lovingly placed by a kind uncle? Or were there hundreds and hundreds of this style vessel once made and then lost because of accident or intentional destruction? Perhaps the answers could be easily found. Perhaps not. If I could have a little vessel like one of these, it would delight me, possibly for the rest of my life. But for now, even without any answers, I come back to the picture over and over merely to feel the delight and smile.
Happy New Year.
[I have finally started blogging on Mindful Circle, the website for my mindfulness workshops. Please check out the website and the blog if you have the chance. http://www.mindfulcircle.net/blog]
This week, that between Christmas and the changing of calendars, is time this year for a re-set, time to put amendments into practice, time to change or dedicate self to the same. Time to practice resolutions while being released from much of the daily grind. Julia and I could stay inside for days at a time without missing a single appointment. Although there have been years when we have travelled the week, and so many Facebook friends are posting pictures of just that, we lie fallow in our snug house, slowly cleaning up from a week of a houseful of young women, slowly getting Julia back on the schedule of school work that keeps her regulated during our everyday. We don’t even expect our biweekly dinner guests tonight due to flu at their house. We slip outdoors for errands—pick up meds, deliver the letter canceling old insurance, check out library books, CDs and DVDs, and buy bananas and salad greens—and return to tea, a fire and poppyseed rolls. I have such gratitude for the simplicity of these few days.
Quiet holidays. Tonight, Julia and I are home. We’ve been in all day. No rushing around. No therapy. No school. And especially, no shopping. As is my preference, I’ve done as much my gift buying online. I am no fan of the frenzied holiday stampede although I admit the need to examine with eyes and finger some potential purchases.
I am stopping at my French cafe on the way to a Mindful Circle workshop. I have time to eat my favorite pain aux raison and sip a cafe au lait. As expected the woman behind greets me like an old friend and seems to remember that the last time I came in I had to settle for another pastry. I practice my few French phrases and indeed she corrects my pronunciation. The very center of my pastry is still warm and the baker is still bringing out the fruits of the morning’s labor.
Chasing Joy 