It is 3 p.m. on the last day of the year--an extraor- dinary year--and I am sur- prised when I look to my left, just outside my office window, to see swollen buds, highlighted in warm afternoon sun, on the Norway Maple out front. I have lived in this house more than thirteen years, and I don't remember ever seeing this. It is a spring-like sight; it is not something I expect to see in the "dead" of winter.But this isn't the dead of winter, is it? I forget sometimes. How everything is constantly in motion, constantly changing (and always for the better, yes?). That each moment, everything is new. All of a sudden I love this notion.For years, decades in fact, I clung to constancy, the familiar, to sameness. "Traditions are wonderful, but so is change," I said to a friend yesterday. Today, I feel excited by the change in the air. I am not "prepared" as "usual" for the onset on this turn of the year this evening. I still have Christmas gifts to wrap, the checkbook to balance, the month's bills to pay, the inevitable disarray that accumulates during the holiday swirl yet to put in order. But it's fine, and all is well. It is different this year, and I welcome the difference. I feel myself and my life expanding beyond the edges of myself, itself, and I am not daunted, not disconcerted, but rather, enlivened and inspired.I still don't know whether it is Love's Freeway which is leading me into this expansion, or vice versa. Either way, I know it is fair to say that I have cleared the Way for Love, and Love has rushed into and through the space I have made. And just when I think I may have mapped that terrain, it grows more broad, more deep. I find myself at the top of Cathedral Rock in Sedona, Arizona, receiving messages--infusions--from the pillars of red rock up there. The Earth has claimed me as Her own. I no longer walk upon Her, but newly realize myself as part of Her. I move like never before in concert with Her movements. No wonder my fear partway through that climb to the top was replaced by a giddy jubilance on the way back down. No wonder I feel seduced and enticed by the prospect of change, of the new, of the unknown that is coming to be, rather than unsettled by it. No wonder I am peaceful, joyful, energized, and full of Light. No wonder I find myself graced by this gift of a true love.
My beloved is in Paris tonight celebrating with friends while I do the same here in Boston. But we are not apart. We are radiant particles of Love Itself touching all in their orbit, abiding reminders of the grace, the beauty, the perfection of Love's Way. We have remembered and have acknowledged our remembering by way of our "Yes!" We have placed ourselves in the center of the River and so are enjoying the deepest, freshest water, the swiftest current, the grandest views, the greatest flow.
And the "Yes!" breeds yesses, of course. Sedona has opened the door to Love's Freeway--stay tuned for more details about that. And as I write, Love's Way is winging its way to Jerusalem. Pays Basque and Costa Rica are next, with who knows what other expansions before, beyond, and in between.
Humbled and grateful, I leave this year understanding like never before what it means to accord with Love's Way. I am reminded of the difference between trying to swim, fighting to stay afloat in the water, versus being a part of it: without movement, without resistance, the body will simply float. Resistance, panic is what makes the body sink. It gets heavy. It forces separation from that from which it is not truly separate. It creates opposition, struggle, acting upon versus acting as, of, from.
The maple buds have now lost their spotlight of sun but keep on with their shaking, their dancing in wind as if electric with the force of their own becoming...
Tonight, rereading a New Year's Eve writing that I penned almost a year ago now, I am reminded. Reminded about the power of the word. Reminded about creation. Reminded about how a clear space leaves room for plenty.
I have never been much of a fan of goals lists. In fact, I don't think I've ever written one. But this New Year's ritual of mine that I started, oh maybe 10 years ago, is a gem of a one, and grows more potent every year. More potent because with each year, I have become more and more clear. More potent because with each year, I am closer to my Self. More potent because with each year, I am living more true to my place, my purpose, and giving full honor to my word. So when I say something, I mean it. I follow through. And when I write something, ditto.
So what did I write last December 31, and then put away and forget about? What has been cooking in the background all year?
I wrote about a year of grace. Grace upon grace upon grace. I wrote of unprecedented professional success. I wrote of freedom from unrequited love. I wrote of romantic passion taking center stage. Of a year of deep appreciation, presence, generosity of mind, spirit, hand, eyes, tears, and heart well beyond what I have been capable of in the past. Of being more alive than I've ever known--ebullient with the infusion of lightness, play, humor. I wrote of a dream of a French chateau and finding a lover there: dark-haired, arresting, self possessed, together and put together, smart, wealthy but not snobbish.
"My arms are filled," I wrote, "my heart happy, my hands and lips and teeth and eyes contented, yet ever ready for more and more delight... I am in Love. And in love. And to be sitting here writing this with my Beloved here in my midst feels: well, what do I say? So completely "of course" - "normal," like it's always been this way, that I've been living this dream come to life, alive. But also, it feels like a cross between a miracle and a theft. How is it that I have been so graced? I know, of course, how. Not by deserving, I can tell you that. I am mine, and [she is hers and] we are each other's, simple as that. Life takes care of Life, takes care of Its own; it has always been this way, and always will be. Have I ever known this as deeply as I do after a year of graces on the Freeway?... I could spend the whole hour tonight just saying thank you, and never say it enough."
So there it is: a year ago, without thinking and without stopping, I wrote. I wrote from a chair and a moment I will inhabit...in about three weeks' time. A moment I have not yet lived, per se. But the intention was cast, the life set in motion, and I have fulfilled already what was written.
Is it magic? A miracle? No and yes. It depends on one's perspective. It is ordinary, a matter of course to one who understands that this is how Life works. Namely, by creation. By declaration, into a clear and receptive space. Michael Losier, one of the "names" in Law of Attraction literature, calls what I have done deliberate intending.
We are intending something every minute of every day. What shows up around us informs us of just what that is that we are intending, if there should be any question about it. The simplest way I know to speak about this is to say: we see what we are looking through. We receive what we give. We attract what we are."I am glad for the utter discernment that has guided me in all ways true to my heart," I wrote. "I see kindness because I am kindness. I see generosity because I am generosity. I am embraced because I embrace. I am loved big because I am a great big love. But that's way too flowery: simply said, I am giving Love Its way with me...and that leaves me humbled and enriched beyond compare... I sing, I laugh--I roll with laughter. My heart is happy. And my purpose fulfills itself on my every breath. I Love. I Love. Love loves this. I am living true to the mission of Love's Freeway whose great success is its own testament, and I can't be more pleased about that."
Am I bragging? Strutting like some puffed-up bird? No. Please don't mistake this for that. I am one voice, speaking from among the masses to say it is a marvel, this Life. It is a grace of graceful and exquisite design. I am living proof of that.
But even as I say this, I realize: there are many who would disagree, point their fingers to all the proof against my claim. And I understand: each of us is right. Life is the mold; we pour into it whatever we choose and create the proof of our choices, contentions, understandings. It's just how it works. Everyone is right--we are all right--and surrounded by the proofs of our con- victions.
That I created this year as written is not extraordinary. It is in fact ordinary. Still, I am no less stunned by the beauty, the joy, the radiant light of what I have made. And my gratitude--to Life, to Love--knows no bounds.