The new calendar year has just arrived and, for me, this time of year is one of quiet. I give myself space to do less and "be" more. I resist the tendencies of our culture to impose some ego-based notion of high-achieving standards on myself. In these colder and darker days, like the deciduous trees around me, I tend to turn my energy inward, get slow, and allow something fresh and creative to gestate. I notice how my mind wants to stare down this delicate newness with its habitual demands that my life be something better, bolder, brighter. This is particularly true if I am feeling vulnerable, my mind buzzing with self-doubts or self-judgments. However, I know that if I am to have an inner compass guiding me in the coming months, I must get quiet. It is from the quietude of my depths that the greatest wisdom will bubble up (like all truly creative things do) and my mind, even though it believes otherwise, cannot muscle it out of me.
One new place of quietude has come, ironically, from taking on more responsibility and adopting a crazy-cute, small dog named Scout. Two to three times a day, Scout goes for a walk. In daylight, we walk on mystical, nature paths along the Delaware River. In moonlight, we walk among the dark, smalltown streets of Lambertville, New Jersey. Mostly, I let the sounds around me be the soundtrack for these walks. Sometimes I listen to the late John O-Donnahue, poet and writer on Celtic spirituality, who speaks of the soul in the "Anam Cara" audio series. He says the soul needs quietude and solitude to reveal its wisdom to us. The soul, he says, cannot bear to be sought out and looked at directly.
I'm reminded of the deer that I chance upon on my hikes. The soul, like the deer, bolts beyond sight if chased down. However, if I become still and silent, this same deer will allow me to take in her beauty. The same can be said of the soul.
So, what is the soul?
John O'Donnahue does not define the soul. I prefer not to define it either. Soul is simply a word that is pointing us toward some unnameable part of ourselves that is the conduit of wisdom and connector to this sacred life. I believe that it is from the depths of the soul that all inspired thought is born. Quietude is the threshold through which this inspiration comes.
And what do I desire as I look into the new year, or even a new day?
I want to be inspired.
So, instead of making a New Year's Resolution, I invite in a New Year's Inspiration.
To find out if this is right for you, try this simple experiment.
First, close your eyes and say the word, "resolution." Notice what sensations arise in your body. Next, again with your eyes closed, say the word "inspiration." Notice what sensations arise in your body and how they are different from the word "resolution." Like me, you may notice that these words produce very different feelings.
I notice that resolution sits like a solid weight in my lower belly. My attention moves downward and I feel grounded, serious, and in touch with the grit needed to commit, make changes and put plans into action. The word inspiration flutters around my chest. My attention moves upward and I feel delighted, curious and with an inward smile that says, "Surprise me!"
What I experience will likely be different from what you experience. What is important to note is that these words resonate differently inside of you. So, which of these words points you towards what you need and want right now?
Both words have value. Being resolute is crucial in many aspects of our lives. But, because I have a tendency to get caught up in notions of better-ing myself, creating a list of "have-to's" that are thinly disguised self-criticisms dressed up in a glittery new year's gown, I decided to drop this ritual of "making a resolution" long ago and replace it with a ritual of quietude and an invitation to inspiration.
Just so's you know, nothing new and inspired has come to me yet this year. For some time now, I've been guided by the simple phrase "No Struggle." So, in keeping with this wisdom, I am not forcing an outcome. As long as I continue to make space for the quiet within, what will come, will come on it own time.
So how does this sound? Do you light up inside when you think about finding times to be quiet, in meditation or on nighttime walks or in bubble baths? If yes, then give this gift to yourself and gently send the direct gaze and relentless drive of your mind on holiday, while you open up to a New Year's Inspiration. I'm fairly certain its waiting to spring up from your soul to guide you.
I'd love to hear what comes to you, whenever it comes to you.
Love and blessings,
Kirstin
Meet Scout--newest, and possibly cutest, member of our family.
P.S. This is from "Anam Cara: Wisdom from the Celtic World," an audio program produced by Sounds True. As you read it, imagine a sonorous and loving male voice with a strong Irish accent reading it to you… it is even better that way!
"And this is one of the lovely recognitions of the Celtic mind: that the world of the soul is a secret and sacred world and that you can't shine in on that world a light that is aggressive or that is too bright. The fascinating thing about modern life is that there is such spiritual hunger in it. So many people are awakening and something marvelous is coming ashore. But sometimes the intensity and hunger with which people chase or try to hunt down the spiritual means that they will never actually arrive there, because the soul was never meant to be seen completely with a brightness or with too much clarity. The soul is always more at home in a light which has a hospitatlity to shadow. In olden times, in Ireland, before electric light came, there was the whole candlelight tradition and the lovely thing about the light of the candle is that it makes wonderful openings in the darkness and it befriends the world of the dark. Now in modern life, we have a neon kind of consciousness and much of the spiritual world is now completely pervaded with the language of psychology. And, too often, the language of psychology has a neon kind of clarity to it that is not able to retrieve or open up the depth and density of the world of soul. In a certain sense, one of the recognitions of the Celtic world is that maybe rather than trying to find our souls or really care for our souls, that we could let the soul find us; and that the soul has a wisdom and special light in it which can completely guard and protect your life. And in a certain sense, when you're soul awakens, your destiny comes to meet you in a new and adventurous kind of way."