It has been quite a year, hasn't it? It feels like so much has shifted, lifted, dropped back, vanished. So much has been asked of us, to hold, carry and trust the vastness of uncertainty laying in front us teetering on the verge of chaos. The constructs that shifted, lifted and vanished have left exposed layers of realities that are suddenly visible and ready to impact us all. In so many ways, this is such a great opportunity, a once in a lifetime, capable of inspiring curiosity and change kind of opportunity, but of course nothing that shakes, uproots and reinvents is easy as you may have noticed.
Despite it all, we've arrived here, at this moment, and despite the loss of innocence, laughter still invites us in to visit, hope calls on us with it's new improved update, (the angle we had missed) and the feeling of connectedness can still unexpectedly envelop the boniness of the loneliness just
previously felt. I keep learning to make room, to be open to the grief and the sorrow while also holding my gaze on the unfinished serendipity of life. I keep remembering to find gratitude and compassion for the defenseless vulnerability that is the experience of life. Compassion and gratitude for the fear, the doubt, the helplessness and for the ground zero where nothing is known and everything is possible. I keep reminding myself that nothing is finished, bound or set to the degree of Forever. It's all being made, right here, even as you read this word. Worlds collide, coalesce and merge, finding the fit that makes sense right now, only to change again when the fit no longer fits.
I invite you to try this as we near the end of this year. I wonder if you would like to join me in jotting down a few ideas, a few suggestions that could be useful to remind us of our vulnerability, of our resilience, our strength. Something to remind us of what we have experienced and managed to live through on this monumental shape shifting, ground breaking whopper of a year.
Whenever you're ready, find a quiet spot, take with you some paper and pen, but feel free to
use any media that you feel will express what you want to say best. Make this space
comfortable and inviting for you. Now take a few deep breaths through your nose,
slowly in, gently hold for a few seconds and exhale slowly through your nose. Breath this
way for a minute or two. When you're ready, begin to write a letter to yourself in the future.
Be frank, find openness and allow yourself to listen to the loudest voice inside. You know,
the one that is most familiar and often accepted as representing us. Slowly, however, maybe
you can begin to listen for the voices that are quieter, the ones that are easier to disregard
and ignore. Remember you're writing to yourself in the future. What would you like to let
yourself know about this time, maybe something about what you have dealt with this year,
what you have learned, the difficulties and also the gifts inherent in this time. I wonder
if you could write a reminder to this future version of yourself. What would you let yourself
know, what would you like to be reminded of, what would you like to pass on.
Once you've finished this exercise, place the letter in an envelope and address
it to yourself. You can seal it with a sealing wax and stamp if you have access to one or seal
it in a way that will maintain its contents confidential and only accessible to you. If you're
not certain where you will be a year from now, address it to a permanent address of
someone you trust. Give this letter to an entrusted person that will mail it in a year's time
and ask them to please create a reminder/alert of this for themselves so they can then
drop it in a mailbox.
I wonder what will happen when you read the messages from your past. You might find how much you had forgotten all that you have lived and all the ways in which you've grown. Use this to remind yourself of the compassion that is needed to embrace all that you have been and in the ways that it has created this future version of yourself. Compassion I find is the only way to take it all in.