Wholehearted Instructions for The New Year
Wrap yourself in fierce tenderness. Perhaps a hand-knit shawl, a sweet song, a hug, a dog’s face sniffing and licking your tears, or the trusting hand of a small child.
Nourish yourself with teas, soups, brisk outdoor walks, and lengthy meditations.
Write yourself a letter from a beloved ancestor, perhaps a grandparent, an inspirational person, or even a pet that has gone before, encouraging, supporting and seeing you well in these times. Calling on deep respect from the elders to you.
Write yourself a letter from a being that has yet to arrive here, yet sees your life, from the future and what will be transformed to sustain the life to come. This is the future looking back at you with wonder and awe for existing in these times.
Weep, mourn, grieve for the enormous losses of these times, allowing grief to move through you in waves, that ancient cry of lament that eventually leans into hope. In the Judeo-Christian tradition, lament begins as an individual expression and finds its way into a communal expression. We are not alone in our grief. We can be a refuge to one another.
Hold fast to hope when discovering your resiliency. Allow what emerges from this space, giving it room to breathe and grow as your own personal lotus.
Find your people. Those who won’t bypass suffering but name all the things from a place of love. Rejoice. Cherish old and new blessings in this space where all who wish to do this work can find refuge.
Speak revolutionary love into systems of oppression, weaving poetry, music and dance into new systems of mutuality and reciprocity.
Embody everything. Flee from nothing.
Dream. Vision. Plant Seeds. Water the Garden. Tend the Soil. Bear the Fruit. Compost.