December 31/January 1 - Out with the Old and In with the New
Well, folks, here we are at the end of another year. I swear I don't know how days can sometimes feel like years and still fly by so quickly. My blog every day during December intentions kind of fell by the wayside. I'm sitting here tonight, looking out the window of the 21st floor of a condo building. The traffic lights on the downtown streets look like airport runways. The town is gearing up for a big football game so there are more than the usual number of people out there ringing out the old and ringing in the new. For the moment, however, where I am, all is quiet except for the hum of the air conditioner. Bella has fallen asleep. I alternate watching her on the monitor and looking out across the city.
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That's as far as I got last night.
Maybe I wasn't ready to say goodbye to 2014. Perhaps I didn't feel ready to embrace 2015.
I was clearly in that in between place.
Like a trapeze artist who has let go of one set of hands but not yet grabbed the bar coming in her direction - that place of suspension. One can drop into the net and make a graceful exit from the bouncy net (I used to practice this maneuver from the top bunk) or she can do a mid-air, twisting somersault before the bar gets to her. Last night I felt like a cartoon character running even after the rug has been pulled out from underneath. Where the legs, just keep going around and around but he's not going anywhere.
But here's the thing. I didn't feel pressured to find my footing. I embraced the silence. Later, when the clock struck midnight, I watched out the window as fireworks lit up the sky welcoming in the new year right outside my window. Fireworks are beautiful. Fireworks are loud. The plate glass window shook with each kaboom and whistle. In an instant the calm I had experienced in the preceding hours was shattered along with the night's darkness. No easy transition there.
I guess that's what the birth process is all about. Most babies are safe inside their mother's womb, until suddenly twisted and turned and thrust through a small portal into a whole new world full of lights and noises. Welcome to the world, little one. It's going to be one hell of a ride. I suppose there are those quiet, gentle births where the lights are low and lullabies play in the background. New babies are wrapped in striped blankets and suckle at a waiting breast. The result is still the same.
In order to fly across the abyss, or live the life a baby is born to live, or begin a new year there's always that "no turning back" moment.
Last year I wrote :
Today, with a little help from someone I don't even know, I don't feel so stuck. Dare I say I feel energized? I feel hopeful? Only time will tell. For right now, in this moment, I can honestly say, I feel ready. How cool is that?
I hope the year ahead will be full of delightful surprises. May you know joy and feel peace. May you dance in the rain, laugh out loud, and be often in the company of children. May you be surrounded by good friends and good books. May golden sunflowers line your path during the day, and twinkling stars illumine your night. May love be always in your heart.
Happy New Year,
Merry ME
----
That's as far as I got last night.
Maybe I wasn't ready to say goodbye to 2014. Perhaps I didn't feel ready to embrace 2015.
I was clearly in that in between place.
Like a trapeze artist who has let go of one set of hands but not yet grabbed the bar coming in her direction - that place of suspension. One can drop into the net and make a graceful exit from the bouncy net (I used to practice this maneuver from the top bunk) or she can do a mid-air, twisting somersault before the bar gets to her. Last night I felt like a cartoon character running even after the rug has been pulled out from underneath. Where the legs, just keep going around and around but he's not going anywhere.
But here's the thing. I didn't feel pressured to find my footing. I embraced the silence. Later, when the clock struck midnight, I watched out the window as fireworks lit up the sky welcoming in the new year right outside my window. Fireworks are beautiful. Fireworks are loud. The plate glass window shook with each kaboom and whistle. In an instant the calm I had experienced in the preceding hours was shattered along with the night's darkness. No easy transition there. I guess that's what the birth process is all about. Most babies are safe inside their mother's womb, until suddenly twisted and turned and thrust through a small portal into a whole new world full of lights and noises. Welcome to the world, little one. It's going to be one hell of a ride. I suppose there are those quiet, gentle births where the lights are low and lullabies play in the background. New babies are wrapped in striped blankets and suckle at a waiting breast. The result is still the same.
In order to fly across the abyss, or live the life a baby is born to live, or begin a new year there's always that "no turning back" moment.
Last year I wrote :
Instead of moving ahead into the future of what might happen, I feel stuck in the past with a sack of rocks on my shoulder that I want to put down. I know the future holds people and lessons and hopes and dreams that could easily fill up the sack, if I'd just lay the rocks aside. Actually, it's not the putting them down that's so hard, it's the leaving them there. Like I don't know what to do or feel when the weight of them is not there.
Today, with a little help from someone I don't even know, I don't feel so stuck. Dare I say I feel energized? I feel hopeful? Only time will tell. For right now, in this moment, I can honestly say, I feel ready. How cool is that?
I hope the year ahead will be full of delightful surprises. May you know joy and feel peace. May you dance in the rain, laugh out loud, and be often in the company of children. May you be surrounded by good friends and good books. May golden sunflowers line your path during the day, and twinkling stars illumine your night. May love be always in your heart.
Happy New Year,
Merry ME
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