1. Truth: Our sweet confused Christmas tree is sprouting buds, thinks it’s spring. Eric hasn’t watered it in a few days, and is planning on taking it down today, maybe even before I get home from work, but she doesn’t know that. It feels like a metaphor for something, reminds me of the way we all continue to move forward even in the face of certain death. And when it’s over for us, we become compost for the next thing that will arise. It makes me feel both so small and so expansive, both so sad and so filled with love.

2. Truth: I’m cultivating patience. If I’d picked a word for last year, that would have been the right one. It was the quality I kept coming back to, the thing that both confounded and comforted me. I had to learn to be content with how long things took, to surrender my irritation when things didn’t work out how I wanted. I’m slowly (slowly, slowly) understanding the wisdom of allowing space and time, of letting go of my agenda.

3. Truth: I have to go back to work today. In this way, in particular, I am practicing patience in the moment. I’m allowing my longing to do something different and the discipline of doing what I said I’d do to coexist. Patience is about being able to stay with what is happening, even if it’s not what I want. It helps me to maintain my effort and enthusiasm in the face of obstacles. It’s an antidote to anger, which is really just a mask for fear.

One wish: May the light of wisdom and the warmth of compassion enable patience to arise.

I tried to find the origin of this image, and my best guess is it was made by this artist, Susann April

1. Truth: This year was a fallow period. Fallow is a farming term that means “plowed and harrowed but left unsown for a period in order to restore its fertility.” After “the election” last year, I spent time in shock, disbelief. When I came out of that, I was too distraught to concentrate, there was just so much wrong. After the dust settled a bit, I dove into educating myself, reading and taking classes, paying attention. With a fresh perspective, I suddenly was afraid to say the wrong thing, embarrassed that I’d been so ignorant, and didn’t know exactly how to make the shift from writing about my personal stuff to what’s happening in the world, or about how they might be connected. I got confused about my work, about what I had to offer. My weekly Something Good posts were easy to modify, and I could still find things to be grateful about, but everything else felt…weird, awkward.

2. Truth: I’m ready to be more present, more vocal. I’m going to make mistakes. I’m going to put my foot in it. I’m going to fuck up. Some people won’t like me anymore. And yet, I’m no longer going to let any of that silence me. My path is one of discovery and devotion, and after a time of contemplation and confusion, that previous truth still stands.

3. Truth: I’ve changed, and I’m more myself than ever. My world view has shifted two clicks to the left, and yet after much deliberation and effort, I find myself exactly where I was. The things that mattered to me still matter, the things I teach are still what I teach, and my mission is still exactly the same: to ease suffering, in myself and in the world.

One wish: May we remember that our worth isn’t always about our doing. May our practice and effort be about being more present and authentic, which also means being more vulnerable. May we cultivate a strong foundation of sanity and compassion in the ways that feel right to us, thus encouraging wisdom and love in others.