I had my new year already -months ago. So what is the lesson?
We like to mark time, chop it into manageable chunks that separate one moment from the next: here, on this side, the world is one way; there, on the other side of that narrow, almost invisible line, that hoped-for chasm of change and difference, the world changes, is different. It is newer, freer, happier, brighter.
We hope that our burdens are lighter, our grief is lessened, our joy magnified. We yearn for new possibilities, to find an array of different, spread before us like a banquet. We imagine that we step over that magic, nearly invisible line that marks one place to the next, with a sense of mindulness and some ceremony.
We mark that magic demarkation with celebration, and say "The before was old. This, now, is new. And into this new, into this vast expanse that is spread before me, all clean and unmarked, I will find and create and do and be and sing and love and experience-- differently. Better. More."
What we don't often stop to realize is that we have this power within us all the time. Like Dorothy and her shoes, we have the power to go home any time we want. We don't need to destroy the witch or bow down to magicians and madmen. We have the chance, no matter the day or the hour, to say "On this side, life and the world are one way. Now, in this moment, this time, from here on out, it is different. It is new and filled with possibility and potential. It is so, because I choose, I decide."
So here we stand, on the edge of a new year, ready to jump, to leap, to shed the old year like we do our winter coats when we finally come in from the cold.
My wish, my prayer for this new year: blessings and joy and wonder and love. And most especially, that we remember that a new year, a new day, doesn't need a calendar. We are given the chance to renew, to reclaim, to begin again always, when we give meaning to the day, when we decide. We are at Sinai always. We are blessed and redeemed always.
The very moment we decide, that we chose it, we will be carried through, from one moment to the next, to an endless expanse of possibility and promise.
Love and light, to all I hold dear... ♥
I write, mostly to keep my head from exploding. It threatens to do that a lot. My blog is the pixelated version of all the voices in my head. I tend to dive into what connects me to God, my community, my family and my doubt. I do a lot of searching, not as much finding. I’m good with that. I have learned, finally, to live comfortably in the gray. I n the meantime, I wrestle with God, and my doubt and my joy. If nothing else, I've learned to make a mean cup of coffee.
About Me
▼
Workshops
▼
Poet in Residence
▼
Monday, December 31, 2018
Tuesday, December 18, 2018
Red Sky Riot: for Angela
She tried to capture the sky
A royal riot of red and blue.
It was not hers to capture
The colors slipped too quickly
Into a subtlety of gray.
She tried to tether a song
With a thousand parts of harmony.
It was not hers to bind
The sound burst and rose
And she could only rise with it.
Heart unbound.
Soul set free.
Amen v'amein.
A royal riot of red and blue.
It was not hers to capture
The colors slipped too quickly
Into a subtlety of gray.
She tried to tether a song
With a thousand parts of harmony.
It was not hers to bind
The sound burst and rose
And she could only rise with it.
Heart unbound.
Soul set free.
Amen v'amein.