Staying close to the mystery and less planning

[I am currently in Italy with my husband and his family for the Christmas holidays. This is an update of an article that I wrote a few years ago. I hope it offers some inspiration and insight into your own New Year dreaming process.]

It is the eve of the last day of the year. In these peaceful days between the celebration of Christmas and new beginnings, many people in my circles are reflecting on the year that has almost completed, and dreaming and planning the year that is about to begin.

I notice some people have given themselves a hard time for all that they set out to achieve in the last year but didn’t. For all the “good” and “positive” ways they wanted to be in the world but weren’t.

If this is you, I want you to know that you are loved beyond what you have done or haven't done. There is nothing you can do or not do that earns or loses you unconditional love

There is time enough for everything your spirit needs to experience in your life. Our human minds live in years, months, weeks, days, hours and minutes. Our spirits live in an eternal moment.

As part of New Year dreaming and planning rituals, some people are searching for the word that will guide them in. Some are dreaming into what they would like the year to look and feel like. Many are setting their goals and intentions and planning the steps they will take to reach their goals.

I've seen a lot of beautiful and inspiring tools out there designed to help you plan out and live your most fabulous year yet. I love the idea of them but often they trigger a sense of overwhelm and resistance in me: There is so much to analyse and think about, and so many rituals and practices to do and think about doing.

Where does just being and experiencing life fit into all the intentions and goal setting and planning and rituals I could complete to make my year fabulous?

Do I have to plan for spontaneity and serendipity to make sure I have time for these experiences too?

This was yet another year that didn’t turn out as I had hoped. I started the year pregnant and in March my dreams of being a mother bled from me. I was swallowed by a grief bigger than I could have imagined. This coupled with extreme stress from my day job overwhelmed my nervous system and I struggled with extended bouts of stomach pain for most of the year.

While life didn’t turn out as I had hoped (again), there have been great gifts in my illness and healing that I may not have experienced otherwise: I have discovered the grace of Kundalini meditation and yoga, neurological integration system to support healing and rebalancing, the awakening of the most beautiful yearning to be a mother, and to have known and cherished the feeling of being pregnant, carrying life within me even with all the horrendous morning sickness despite the pregnancy ending with no baby to be held physically in my arms.

I would never have chosen this journey through grief and illness. I’m still grieving the loss of my baby and what feels like was my last chance to be a mum.  But I am open to the idea, as I have been before, that maybe the vast intelligence of this world knows a bit more about what I need to experience in life than I do, including things I would never choose, and it knows how to bring me experiences so I don’t have to go out of my way to make everything happen in my life.

There is magic in deep dreaming with your heart. It brings us closer to what I call the Divine but you may call God, Higher Self, the Universe, Love or something else. It opens us to possibilities that we could never think of. If we listen deeply and patiently we hear our heart's true yearnings and callings and we are shown a way through life that may be far different than we could think of with our human minds. Everything unfolds in perfect timing; it's just often not to our human mind's timing.

The group energy of this time is one of reflection and dreaming.  As one human year ends and another one begins, I naturally feel pulled towards reflecting upon my year as well, tenderly, kindly and with gratitude (where I can feel authentically grateful) for its blessings.

I am also dreaming into the possibilities of my life and wondering what magic and mysteries it has in store for me today, tomorrow, next week, next month, next year. After a year of feeling like being in the mud and muck and a holding zone, I am feeling like next year could be radiant.

I am inviting inspiration, for the Divine to create and express through me in its own way, in its own time. I am waiting and watching with open hands ready to catch and follow the thread as soon as it appears knowing that at any moment I may also have to let it go.

I am inviting in magic and mystery because I want to live a life beyond that which I could simply think or plan alone.

Staying close to the mystery of this world is the best plan that I can have.

With love and courage,

Kym xx

 

A story about falling and its lessons

A story about falling and its lessons
"What you can plan is too small for you to live." — David Whyte

For the last six weeks I have danced with an illness that has required me to pull back from boxing, social activities and even walking. I have walked only 10 to 12 kilometres once each when I planned to be walking significantly more by now. Sometimes even this was too far and I had to pull back into rest and stillness. It felt like one step forward, one step back.

Then on Sunday, in one single moment, every thing changed. Unexpectedly, I took a giant step back into a stepless place.

I just finished writing my newsletter, put my computer aside then stood to walk upstairs to fetch my sheets to launder when disaster stuck. The toes of my sleepy left foot curled under and the full weight of my body came down hard on the top of my foot that was touching the ground where the sole should have been. Pain roared instantly and I knew that my foot was badly injured — that it could even be broken.

Standing on my right leg only, I pulled off my ugg boot, looked at my left foot and gasped in horror. On top of my foot was a huge, dark lump, the size of a small chicken egg getting larger by the second. I needed to ice it and elevate it immediately.

I managed to hop to the freezer to grab an ice pack, hop to the bench to grab the phone then hop over to the couch and raise my foot up above my heart. Then the shock kicked in. I phoned friends for help, sobbing that I’d done something really bad to my foot, rang the after hours medical clinic for an appointment so I could avoid spending hours waiting in emergency at a hospital, then lay on the couch shivering from the shock as I waited for my friend Tracy to arrive.

As I waited, I wondered how this would impact my pilgrimage: would it be better if it were broken or just soft tissue damage i.e. which would heal more quickly? Will it heal in time to walk in September? What if it doesn’t heal in time? How would I feel if I had to postpone the pilgrimage?

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