The full prompt: What activity brings you the most joy? (Author: Lee Currie)
This is a tie between writing and being with my dogs. Both things have at their heart connection and pure love. My writing practice in the past year has moved beyond judgement and conditions (mostly) to a place of satisfaction and contentment, and my experience of my dogs has always been that simple. I can write for hours, lose all sense of time, am reluctant to stop, feel like I always have so much more to say, wake up in the middle of the night with ideas, am writing in my head as I am walking or doing yoga or even meditating, wake up excited to start working–this is love, this is joy. And my boys, all three of them, even the one who is no longer with us–all I have to do is think about them or look at them, sleeping or playing or barking at the trash truck or whatever they happen to be doing, whatever they did good or bad, and my heart softens, sometimes melting completely, sometimes breaking with so much love, so much joy, and even sadness because it’s all so beautiful and temporary.
The full prompt: What was something you planned to do in 2012 but didn’t? What was it, and why did you not accomplish it?
I planned to heal my body, my relationship with it and with food. I thought that with awareness, this would come easily. I would notice what I was doing, gain knowledge and understanding, be able to stop numbing out, disconnecting, smashing myself to bits, forgive myself and be able to change. I was so wrong. The habitual patterns, this way of being is so old, so deep, so sticky. There are layers and layers of resistance, of grief and longing, and it’s about so much more than just my body–it’s everything. This is going to be much harder than I thought, but it’s why it is one of my primary intentions in the next year: sanity, wellness and balance.
Your Most Intense Emotions
The full prompt: What made you dance in 2012? What made you weep?
My purpose becoming clear made me dance. As I take each step forward, as I do the work without attachment to the outcome, without knowing why or where exactly it will lead, the rightness of my longing, the ways in which I can make a difference in the world, have the potential to ease suffering, is becoming more and more clear, and I am becoming more and more certain, confident.
My blog doing well made me dance, the kind and gentle readers, the times people shared my posts or left heartfelt comments, the times when I knew what I was writing mattered, wasn’t just helping me but rippled out.
The possibility and opportunities that occurred made me dance. So many good things happened, and I can see that so many more are on their way.
Finding out that Dexter had cancer, that it was incurable, that he wouldn’t be with us for much longer made me weep. And it continues to do so.
Things that I won’t share here made me weep, things I won’t write about on this blog because they belong to other people, are their mistakes and confusion and grief, and it wouldn’t be right to tell you about it–and yet, these are things that caused me deep suffering, ongoing pain. It is so hard when someone you love dearly is making bad choices, generating so much trouble for themselves, is hurting people, doing damage, wreaking havoc and causing mayhem, and all you can do is watch and try to keep loving them.
The full prompt: It’s easy to focus on our mistakes—to reflect with 20/20 hindsight and berate ourselves for what went wrong. Bring your awareness to a mistake you’ve made over the past year. Unveil one positive lesson from that mistake. How can you actively use this lesson moving forward?
I was too busy, pushed too hard, wanted too much, did too much, overcommitted and overextended. In fact, I am doing it right now. This isn’t sustainable, and there are consequences. I disappointed people, some things were left half done or abandoned altogether, stuff literally piled up, was messy and unkempt, I denied myself the care necessary for health and wellness, I broke promises, I was distracted and because of that mistakes were made, I didn’t always do my best work and sometimes I failed completely.
I suppose what I learned is that I have limits, that I can’t do everything, that I will have to let go of some things, surrender to others, and that there is time, there is good reason to do so. In the coming months, my intention is to learn what balance looks like for me, what health and wellness mean, and to start living towards that.
The full prompt: What new hobby or interest piqued your passion this year? Or did you think about an old passion in a new way?
Making art. I used to tell myself not to bother because I wasn’t any good, thought that to be creative you had to first have talent, to know exactly and for sure what you were doing, your goal and your method. This year I realized that creating something just feels good, and I don’t ever have to share what I make, it can be a process and practice that is just for me, for the pure joy of it. I can also see how the way to get good, to find my “thing” when it comes to art, is to make a lot, to keep showing up, being open to what arises, and in this way I will eventually stumble upon my artistic voice, my style, my thing.