Intentions for a New Year
Ok… so this is a perhaps overused topic … and I am choosing it nevertheless because all the other subjects that arise in my mind these days — loneliness in winter, mortality and vulnerability, fear of the unknown, our harsh and cruel social/political landscape — seem too weighty and sad. I have been traveling through what feels like difficult territory lately, complete with post book publication “blues,” health concerns, and despair at our culture’s polarization and animosity, and I would frankly rather talk about what I see as possible in this moment. That is all we have, after all. So, I offer you some of my deeply felt intentions that call to me now, “resolutions” that seem to be workable as I look at the path ahead…. I hope you hear their call as well.
to treat my aging body with kindness for just moments each day
to give something of myself to the world each day … could be a smile to a stranger, a tutoring session for some junior high kids, or playing the piano
to spend a little time each day reading something I love
to bring to mind each day of one of the “resources” in my life - those elements (people, animals, places) that afford comfort and safety in our perilous world
to remind myself not to believe everything my mind tells me
to be generous - to myself and at least one other person
This body we inhabit, which is NOT who we are, is a precious and imperfect thing that asks to be tended with care. It carries us through life with its many bumps in the road. Frailties, sickness, and handicaps of all sorts… We can help it grow and thrive by bringing our loving attention to its various parts, like the sore legs, aching shoulders, fluttering heart, and cranky stomach…. This unfolds in mindfulness practice as we send kindness to whatever part of ourselves is struggling. Love does heal, after all.
In this fragmented world we often feel alone and separated from our fellow beings. Living in the city most of the time, I’m acutely aware of this, and I often try to reach outside myself and offer something of value, creating a sense of connection with my fellow humans. My favorite thing to do is to smile randomly at people I see as I walk the city streets. Also, when I consciously apply my skills and goodwill to work in service to others, I discover that I’m closer to being an integral part of the human race! And finally, playing the piano … sending music out into the air … feels like I’m offering my blessing to the world. While it looks quite private, it is in fact giving something beautiful and changing life’s energy outside myself.
I’ve recently found refuge in reading in the evening before I turn out my light. A thoughtful biography of one of my favorite writers, Henry James, and Alexander Hamilton, the great tome which inspired the astonishing musical play, and Homer’s Odyssey, are recent choices. These books are generous and abundantly intelligent, they feed my mind and heart, and inspire me to continue pursuing my writing, a “career” now somewhat dormant because I’m promoting my recently published memoir. Good books, whether they be novels of romance, volumes of history, of poetry, or a unique memoir, are good for the human soul. They make us bigger and better people.
“Resources” are those people and places which afford us a sense of being o.k., of being safe and secure. I learned this from a wise somatic therapist who shared what she understood of the “window of tolerance,” that zone humans need to occupy if we’re going to live with and recover from from traumatic and terrifying situations. Humans always function better when they feel safe. During these confusing and scary times, I find these resources: my dog Peaches, my cat Jackson, my grandmother’s baby grand piano, my meditation practice, the roaring Pacific Ocean, my grandchildren, knitting a scarf, my Buddha statues, cooking a lovely roast chicken, just to mention a few …. My intention is to remind myself each day of at least one of these resources, to bring it back into my heart and feel calm and secure.
Our brains are tricky organisms - they do so much for us: allow us to learn amazing things and often to stay out of harm’s way. They help us to imagine the unimaginable, solve incredible problems, dream great dreams, and create beauty from nothing. They also tell us terrifying and unhelpful things: that we’re unloved, unappreciated, we’re on the verge of certain fatal death or failure, our bodies are no good, we’ll never measure up to the dreams we have for ourselves, the chaos of our modern world is more than any of us can possible cope with, we’ll soon be forgotten and our lives will become meaningless…. You get the idea. Bad - untrue- stuff. I thought I had a difficult time with the “inner critic” when I wrote my book — and now I see more of this carping, unkind judge hovering over me as I navigate some disappointments, human frailties, and the like. I attempt to face this head on and see it for what it is - untruth, the mind fabricating angst because it is obsessive and needs to keep working at something. Can we just all agree that the next time our brain says “no” to our dreams or our heart, we counter that with a “thank you for your opinion, but I’m kind of busy living my life right now”?
I love generosity. My grandmother taught me a lot about giving, and I try to practice this on a daily basis. It can look very simple - giving sincere thanks to anyone who helps us - or more involved, like finding a way to make a significant difference for someone we care about... Or how about offering our own bounty to those less fortunate? Random giving of gifts is always a pleasure, I find. Listening carefully and lovingly to someone can do the job too. Generosity has many faces. Think about choosing it once a day, even in the quietest of ways.
Our lives are ours to build on each day. Let’s not drift, but pay close attention and make it all mean something.