Lady New Year

and the unprecedented times

Today we woke to rain pelting the roof, an unwelcome sound in January for a snow-loving family. The good snow conditions of the past week have been swept away, a frosty mist hovering over the landscape. Pine boughs and tree branches sag under the weight of their current icy cloaks. It feels a little dismal and dark, and it’s also quite beautiful—somehow both of those things can be true. The land is soggy, plants are holding more than they truly want to right now, and still the ice sparkles—even in muted light.

Ice on the bushes this afternoon.

We could say the same for many people right now, too. There are new unwelcome sounds to hear every day (news headlines, social media ads, the comments section, those terrible TVs at gas stations, etc). What seem like great conditions (or at least tolerable ones, if not “great”) get pulled out from under people and communities on the regular (think: health insurance; homeowners insurance; layoffs; any action motivated by war mentality). The mists of ‘unprecedented times’ hover over everything basically all the time, leading to plenty of sagging and staggering as we try to do our part to hold up the weight of the world. We build the kind of resilience we don’t want to need. And still we laugh, we sing, we build a fire in the hearth and cook another meal. We find the sparkle that only shadows can highlight. We see the light in the darkness and remember the dark cannot overcome it.

Lady New Year
What makes January sing
with beauty & meaning & light?
Perhaps a fresh dusting of snow
does the trick, or frosty sunlight shining
on crunchy footprints toward her heart's desire.
Or maybe she finds her voice in the drops
of water that pool at her feet, unwanted thaw
coaxing the sort of surrender that leads deep 
into the heart of what makes the world true:
acceptance of what is, flaws and all, somehow 
existing inside the beauty that remains.
This may seem aspirational, but mostly 
it just means a growing okay-ness 
with being who she has always been 
unbecoming and becoming anew, 
continually creating the path 
back to the core of herself. 

“You must look closely in this dark month. Examine the backs of your hands and the movements of your fingers. Place your thumbprints on the edges of old bowls. Immerse yourself in ceremonies of the ordinary. Do not seek large issues. In January one needs ritual, not philosophy.” —Kent Nerburn

It can be really hard to look closely, especially this time of year, especially when things are harder than we want them to be. Westernized culture tells us that we should be setting lofty goals and committing ourselves to a new beginning to “make it our best year yet!” or some other similar saying (that often comes with a ten step list and/or a program with a price tag). “Year in reviews” are everywhere as the calendar flips over. The message that swirls around is that you’ve got to plan ahead, take the long view, get your ducks in a row, be ready to conquer the next twelve months. January in mainstream America tends to be about going big or going home. Clean the slate. Overhaul your lifestyle. Live your best life, starting today. Raise your vibration so you can manifest your dream life. These aren’t necessarily bad things to put energy into. However, these are large issues.

What if instead we took Mr. Nerburn’s advice and chose to place our attention on things like the edges of old bowls and the backs of our hands? What if we didn’t try to “crush” or “slay” any goals and instead chose to hold a mug and contemplate its delicate heaviness, the way fingers fit around its curves, how the steam rises in air that is colder than comfortable? What might we see in the lines on our faces as we brush our teeth or the cracks in those old bowls as we wash them by hand? What would get uncovered if we took time to notice the simple joy of building a fire in the hearth or taking the first bite of something good to eat? What if we peered deeply into the ordinary actions of our days and discovered what rituals already exist inside them?

There is power in ceremonies of the ordinary.¹ That power isn’t flashy or quick moving or even nice to look at sometimes. It’s certainly hard to sell as a product. [Can you picture it? “How to examine the backs of your hands in ten easy steps-start today!”] But it could just be the antidote to your typical new year.

I mean, that might even be unprecedented.

Might as well stay on trend with the times.

Look closely in this dark month. Get acquainted with lady new year, however she shows up in your life. Take her cue and keep creating that path back to yourself, and by doing so, the path that leads us all back to each other.

1. Portions of these paragraphs are from Collisions of Earth and Sky.