Transformation wasn’t the intention I set for 2016, not consciously at least. I was riding the wave, drifting along, ready to bat my oar against whatever the ocean sent for me. Waiting for lightning strikes at every turn. Prepared only for the day the sky fell, not for the torrential downpour that besets this city every week. I try to do everything with intent now. No more riding the waves, hoping I won’t capsize.
No more piles of old trinkets I’m saving “just-in-case.” No more clothes stuffed into drawers because “there’s nothing wrong with them, even if I’m not wearing them.” No more stacks of old beauty products hiding under the bathroom sink.
No more extra weight.
You don’t realize how much these things weigh on you until you start to get rid of them. Then you can see how much space you’ve made for everything else you wanted to do. Read. Cook. Exercise. Create.
When you make room to stretch out a bit, everything starts to come easier.
My husband suffered a concussion on Christmas night. When I watched him fall, the world seemed to dissolve into itself. Nothing was solid. For those few hours, the space between each atom seemed infinite compared to their proximity. Everything around me, the air I breathed to the cold tile floor I knelt on, might as well have been a hologram.
And yet, the alchemical processes of this year left me a sturdier personality than the one I knew before. My feet stayed firmly planted on the ground. The amethysts dangling from my ears whispered soothing words to that part of me which sleeps by day and roams by dream. By the grace of the universe and the symbolic power of the “LIFE” shirt my husband wore that night, he was released from the hospital within two hours. He went back to work yesterday.
I’m thankful every hour for this blessing, and for my newfound ability to handle crises with (if I do say so myself) grace and poise. I’ve come out of this week in a more organized state than I went into it. The Christmas gifts have found their proper places and are not strewn about the living room floor. Errands have been completed. New books have been started. The dog still gets a walk and a tooth brushing every day.
This isn’t to say I haven’t struggled. I’ve suffered the physical symptoms of stress and relived that moment where his head hit the wall multiple times daily throughout this week. But I’m still moving forward. No more coming to a grinding halt when the going gets tough.
This year, I am going to set an intention. Last year’s transformation has brought forward the importance of balance in the months to come. I need to organize the empty spaces, formerly occupied with negative thoughts and useless baggage, fill them with brightness and love, pour new life into the garden of my mind and soul.
Happy New Year, everyone.
madi's blog. 