Only Two Days In

Last year felt like it lived me instead of the other way around. Like the year grabbed me by the hand, took off at full tilt, and never let go. On the doorstep of 2020 I had one recurring thought.

I don’t want the year to get away from me.

I found myself saying it over and over again.

I don’t want the year to get away from me.

I don’t want the year to get away from me.

Did I mention that I don’t want the year to get away from me?

In preparation for the year two-thousand and twenty, I’ve spent a bit of time mulling over how to develop a rhythm that, like our breath and our beating hearts, makes time and space for inhaling and exhaling, for emptying out and filling up. I’ve reminded myself of what and who matter, starting close in and moving out from there. I’ve recommitted myself to the habits and practices necessary to live fully engaged in the year ahead so that I am better able to generously offer what I can, and graciously bow out of what I can’t.

Only two days into the new year, I can already see how easily we fall into familiar habit patterns and ways of responding to what life brings our way. With only two days under my belt, I can see how the year can grab us by the hand, take off at full tilt, and before we know it, year end fireworks are going off and the ball is about to drop in Time Square.

Let’s not let that happen.

Words To Hang Our 2020 Hats On

Yesterday as I wrote about 2020, my first thought was to come up with ONE word for the year. One word that would capture my vision, hopes, and thoughts for the year ahead. One word that would help me make choices in line with the person I want to be, and the difference I hope to make.

That’s a tall order for a single word.

The more I tried to come up with one word, and one word only, the more restrictive it felt, kind of like when you can’t catch your breath. That is when the idea of a collection of words took hold, and as the list of words appeared on the page I began to breathe a little easier.

As I look at the word cloud created from my list, and now displayed nearby for quick reference, it is clear that I will need every one of them. I already know that there will be days when I won’t be able to muster a speck of fierce if my life depended on it, and on those days will be grateful that grace is there at the ready. Some days I will embody those words, and on others only aspire to them. Keeping them close at hand might just help me embody more and aspire less.

We human beings are complex creatures, and the lives we live are equally complex. Every day we make choices that, when cobbled together, create the life we have, and it is hard to imagine summing up a life in a single word.

Going Deeper

If you want to take a deeper dive into today’s post…

Find a bit of time and space to create your own collection of words on which to hang your 2020 hat.

Create your own word cloud. (I used Word Clouds (simple, free, fun).

Hang it nearby, refer to it often, and see what happens.

Putting It Into Words

It feels good for 2019 to be in the rearview mirror. At least it does to me, and so it seems, to most of the people I know. Yes, there were many moments of joy, causes for celebration, and plenty of love and grace to go around, but there was just something about last year that called upon us to dig deeper than we sometimes thought we could.

It was a year that left us ready to begin again.

There is no doubt that this new year will once again call upon us to dig deep, to endure, and to show up, again, and again, and again. Rather than a list of things to do better, I find myself searching for the words with which to travel through this year.

Words that will serve as touchstones for my choices big and small, day in and day out.

Words that describe who I want to be and how I want to show up in the world.

Words like this…

Time-Frame

A recurring thought as I look ahead to a new year is that it not get away from me before it even starts. It is so very easy to allow my days to be in charge of me rather than me of them. There is a distinct difference between being in charge of, and being in control of. In charge implies that I’ve built a framework within which life can organically play out, making room for both the planned and the unexpected. Control on the other hand, suggests attempting to desperately hold on to all the moving parts. Of which there are too many to count.

Having had the unexpected privilege of building a custom home, I was able to observe first hand the process of framing the house. This wooden framework is later hidden behind the walls within which we live and work and play, but it is what makes all that living and working and playing possible. It creates the shelter within which we live. It defines the different rooms and areas we inhabit, and creates a kind of order within even the most chaotic of days can occur.

Our time can be likened to a kind of home as well. It is the shelter within which we live, and to hold up to all that life brings our way, it too is in need of a solid framework. One that creates and defines distinct spaces for who and what we care about. A structure that both protects us from taking on too much, and enables us to love, help, and heal the world that is within our reach. Which, I believe, is why any of us are on the planet in the first place.

Putting such a framework in place doesn’t happen by chance. First and foremost, it requires our intention. How do we intend to spend our days? What gifts do we intend to offer to the world? What and who matter to us, and based on that, what impact do we intend to make and how will we do that?

Along with intention, creating our framework requires our attention, not only to details, but to the bigger picture as well. How can we bring our attention to who and what are right before us, and yet not lose sight of the larger view? How can we commit ourselves to what is ours to do, and refrain from jumping in to what is not?

As Annie Dillard reminds us, How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. The timeframe of our lives is unknown to us, which is all the more reason to build a solid framework within which to live whatever time we have.



Stewardship

A month before Tom retired this past June, we booked an Airbnb for three days at the Oregon Coast for what we came to call our Pre-Retirement Summit. The first morning we pulled our chairs out onto the deck, and French Press coffee in hand, settled in to capture our individual and shared vision for our future. It was time to chart a new course.

Summit: Day One

About midway through that first day, looking back over what we’d heard from one another, It became clear that what we were really talking about was stewardship. In the time we have left on the planet, how do we want to care for and make meaningful use of who we are, what we have to offer, and the various resources at our disposal? It seems to me a good question to ask periodically at any point in life, and for us it was a great exercise, as it always is, to carve out time to look at the bigger picture.

As this new year begins, we are working to be mindful of the priorities established and the commitments made at our little beach getaway, but it is hard work. It would be much easier to just allow the days to unfold as they will, do what is right in front of us, and allow being productive to substitute for being purposeful. But that is not stewardship, which is the only thing that will help us stay our course.

Beach Sunset

Lighten Up

It’s finally here. The last day of the year.

This is the day for one last glance over our shoulder, taking note of what we’ve accomplished and experienced, how we’ve grown and what we’ve discovered, what we’ve contributed and what we’ve been given.

This is also the day to leave behind what we don’t want to carry with us into 2019. We get so used to carrying what we carry that we just drag it along with us, never counting the cost.

Let’s not do that.

The new year is beckons, and there’s no room for excess baggage.

Old Year's Resolution

New Year’s resolutions have been around for thousands of years, and while many of us seem to make them, not so many of us seem to actually accomplish what we set out to do. Or not do. Whether you are a fan of making some sort of promise to yourself as the calendar turns over to another year or not, there seems to be a cultural expectation that we make one. 2019 is looming large, and it can be easy to consider the current year a done deal. Too soon to set our resolutions for the year about to begin, and too late to make any for the one about to end.

But this morning it dawned on me that there are still 38 days left in 2018, and in order to have a sense of contentment and satisfaction about ending this year well, I’ve decided to start a new tradition: An Old Year’s Resolution.

When the shotguns go off in our little valley at midnight on December 31, 2018, what would I like to be true?

What would I like to have accomplished?

Done?

Not done?

Grabbed hold of?

Let go of?

If I had the courage, what would I do before ringing in another year?

In his poem, Start Close In, David Whyte writes:

Start close in,
don’t take the second step
or the third,
start with the first
thing
close in,
the step
you don’t want to take.

An Old Year’s Resolution is a chance to start close in. To take that first step. The one we’d rather jump over and get on to the next steps. The one we’ve known we need to take, but haven’t found our way to do actually take it.

What is the step I don’t want to take? I’ll take that one.

What is the step you don’t want to take? Maybe you’ll take that one.

There’s still time.

38 days to be exact.