I know, it’s backwards: One Truth and Three Wishes. That’s not typically how this works. It’s supposed to be the other way around, three truths and one wish, but there is only one thing that I know for sure today, one thing I can be certain of, and the rest is wishes.
One Truth: I am tired. I know I say this a lot, but this is different. This is deep in my bones, head to toe, all the way down, all the way in and all over, every part of me depleted: body, heart, mind, spirit. I want to put clean sheets on the bed, clean pjs on my body, turn off the ringer on the phone, shut down my computer, and do nothing but sleep and eat and snuggle with my dogs for days, and if I have any energy at all, that will be for walking and reading. It sounds so dreamy.
It has something to do with the time of year, the end of a teaching semester, the ramp up to the holidays, the lack of light, the cold, everything turning brown and gray, dry and brittle, the promise of snow, a long season of goodbying with Dexter, the coming of a new year, the reflecting and planning and reverbing and emerging. I want to hibernate, to sleep, to rest. I am tired.
Then early today I read a poem from John O’Donohue, and it touched into what I was wishing, longing for, craving–for you kind and gentle reader, for me, for everyone. So here it is, broken down into three wishes.
1. Wish: “May all that is unforgiven in you be released.” Wouldn’t it be wonderful to walk into the new year unburdened by old grudges, ancient angers, bitter resentments, those old stories about unfairness, betrayal and hurt? Holding on to them, feeding them, keeping them warm and alive has only generated more suffering. I would be much lighter, much happier if I could let these go, surrender them to the wind.
2. Wish: “May your fears yield their deepest tranquilities.” I can also imagine the great relief I would feel if my fears softened, if panic and tension were to ease, if I could surrender to what is, sink into the comfort of reality with an open heart, have confidence in my natural, fundamental wisdom and compassion. I am wishing for this.
3. Wish: “May all that is unlived in you blossom into a future graced with love.” This one especially. I keep reading the line, over and over, feeling every part of me say “yes, please.”
To Come Home To Yourself
May all that is unforgiven in you
May your fears yield
their deepest tranquilities.
May all that is unlived in you
Blossom into a future
Graced with love.