On the longest night, my girls and I sat around lit candles. We wrote on paper what we wanted to transform, eliminate, let go of. It is known as the Burning Bowl Ceremony. In the past, I was happy to write all that icky stuff I wanted nothing more to do with and then wanted nothing more than to invite every happy, abundant blessing into my life for the coming year.
But this year is different. I did write some of those thorns in my soul, and many of those thorns were those happy, abundant blessings I’ve been wishing to happen for many years, but haven’t. All the expectations and hopes and dreams. All the things I want and have wanted. I burned them. Done with anticipating their arrival. It does not matter.
Truth is, my biggest fear of the past few years: my life will not get any better than it is right now– and to ease that fear I’ve made up lots of fantasies of my wonderful future that would indeed make it better. I’ve imagined them to the point where I can feel them, and believe they will happen. And then the car accident. It showed me I don’t really know what’s coming, and therefore I don’t need to tell a story about the story- past, present or future. The story, finally, and at once, by itself is enough.
The story unfolds each moment, and I find I am more awake for the moment. The story about the story is no longer between it and me. I now want to hear what is here, right now- and the future isn’t here yet. It never is. The moment, however always is.
So, future fantasies, into the fire pit, you go. My husband’s grandmother said to us on our wedding day something that seems fitting now: “In life there will be differences, but you learn to toss them up and catch the falling stars.”
I’m here, catching those stars, whatever they may be.
Happy New Year, which for me begins this Winter Solstice, 2011~ the coming of the Light.
The Soul Reporter