Dear January –
What a strange month you’ve proven to be. An enigma, wrapped in paradox, tied with ribbons of curiosity. You flung open the door to a new year, and then you paused. You stopped, you started, you spun around around a bit, you had me feeling stuck, you sped by. You confused me and you dropped off some amazing bits of clarity as well.
You asked me to change some of my habits and experiment with new arrangements, and then you had me bouncing back and forth between two paradigms until I felt like a well-flipped pinball. I got far less done than I’d hoped, but you reminded me about my rhythms and kept me inspired.
You delivered several strange cryptic messages by phone (I suspect you were in cahoots with Mercury on those tricks); you lost a ring, and brought me a hole (cavity); you made me cry and kept my heart tender.
But you also brought me a tree goddess to work with, and helped me get acquainted with my yearly goddess. You proffered a color for me to work with this year; you arranged for me to win two fun surprises online; and you also delivered a new coffee maker and a new sidewalk. You’re definitely started manifestation on my guiding word of 2015 – MAGIC.
We celebrated Universal Letter Writing Week and Thesaurus Day, and you kicked off the annual Season for Nonviolence and brought the Full Ice Moon.
You wrapped me in wonderful tangled nighttime dreams, including my mother giving me a solar plexus clock and being in circle with magical woodland animals. You inspired me with a tale of stories written on kites and read by the sky, and you delighted me with finding an old journal filled with treasures.
You invited me to play with a group of wonderful women as we all work our way through the book SoulSpace and clear our homes of what no longer fits and re-dedicate them as the sacred spaces they truly are. You helped me purge tons of paper, clean and straighten dozens of drawers, tackle closets and cabinets, and lighten my spirit along the way.
You encouraged me to do some visioning, invited me to do lots of writing; and you made me feel old, but tempered it with understanding there is wisdom that comes with that.
I feel unsettled, unsure if I got everything you meant me to and now you’re headed out the door. But I am grateful for all you gave me, and especially appreciate you left me with a final little bit of magic – this quote by Rainer Maria Rilke. I think it’s perfect.
“I beg you to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart, and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”
Thank you January – I see what a gift you’ve really given me now.