How am I spending the bulk of these last days of the year? In my new flannel owl pajamas (awesome Christmas present courtesy Mike’s mom), sipping eggnog, and meandering from morning to night. After a year that started with a whimper and ended with a bang, I’ve finally slowed down and regained some equilibrium.
At the beginning of 2015, my magical friend Angela and I spent a wonderful day, eating soup and salsa, sipping bourbon, savoring pie, dreaming dreams and supporting each other in our new year imaginings. I remember her saying that the new year kick off didn’t really feel like a rah-rah kind of thing to her. Instead, she said, the opening sound of 2015 was more like “Meh.”
I completely agreed. Then I had some more pie—this pecan-chocolate concoction Angela makes, for which any sensible person would hand over her hope chest.
Both Angela and I accomplished a lot this past year, including her launch of a new website and lots of growth and launching in my business, including my new online Discover the Book You’re Meant to Write course at the start of December.
But for me, honestly, 2015 started and ended with the need for a nap. It did include many peaks and wonders, and I often felt blindfolded, lost and sweaty on the climb to get to them. In my Chinese astrology, I’m a water ox, and that sounds about right for me and the past twelve month’s efforts.
As 2016 dawns, the feeling I’m getting is different than last year’s. It’s still not rah-rah, but it’s also not meh. I’d probably call it a sound hybrid of “Hmm” and “Om.”
The image that comes with those sounds is a deep well, filling with refreshing, clear water. And the word that comes with that is reserves.
What I’m mindful of right now are my reserves—that is, how I will store up resources to nourish me through this new year.
So for 2016, I’m not really interested in resolutions.
When I hear “resolution,” I hear a simultaneous gavel slam. I think debates and law, right and wrong, black and white. Rigidity. Resolutions always seem to back me into a corner rather than pushing me forward, as they’re purported to do.
By definition, a la Merriam-Webster, resolutions are about “finding an answer or solution.” I’m suspicious of certain solutions and their neglect of the complexity of being human, absence of compassion, and ring of dogma. So no resolutions for me.
Instead, for 2016, I’m interested in reservations, that which I will arrange for myself for the year to come.
With that in mind, your FHP activity for the week, should you choose to accept it, is to make a list of your own New Year’s Reservations.
To give you a little inspiration for the task, here are mine, so far:
- I reserve my energy, time, and talents for efforts and endeavors that I enjoy.
- I reserve the right to say no, to protect my mind, body, and heart from whatever might harm me.
- I reserve the strength to say yes to that which will set my heart on fire.
- I reserve three days of my workweek to be free of meetings with people, so that I can preserve my energy and focus for other tasks.
- I reserve myself at least one table-for-one moment each day in which I will sit down, breathe, ask myself what my body needs and respond accordingly.
- I reserve at least one table-for-whoever’s-present moment each day in which I practice gratitude and say thank you.
- I reserve my weekends to be free of work.
- I reserve the hour before I sleep to be free of screen time.
- I reserve my mornings for creative, pleasure-writing
- I reserve the right to change any of the above, because I am a creative, evolving being, and change = growth and life.
When I read my list out loud to myself, it felt good. Not wahoo! But a steady, clear, reassuring yes. Which is just what I need.
If you take on this FHP activity, please feel free to share one or two of your new year’s reservations here in the comments, or in the Café. I’d love to know how you intend to build your precious reserves for the year to come.
Thank you for being here, for reading, and sharing this word communion with me.
With much love and bright new year’s blessings from me to you,