It is hard to even get a sense what something is, or was, while it is in the process of passing.
I’ve never really understood the end-of-year lists, summaries, the summing up. How can we say what was? We don’t know yet. That will require time.
So this is just a quiet exiting, a way of clearing out the conduit, because passage into the new is happening whether we think we are ready for it or not.
I want to say goodbye this year with thank-yous in my thank-you heart.
Goodbyes with thank you.
Not that this was a fantastic year or anything. God knows it was full of hard, challenging things. For me. And probably also for you.
These thank-yous are not a negation of the hard. The hard is legitimately hard, and all the emotions that get stirred up when it comes to the hard stuff, these are legitimate too.
These thank-yous are here because this is how I want to exit right now: acknowledging what was sweet, adjusting my eyes so that I can get better at being someone who finds the treasure.
One year ago today.
A year ago, on New Year’s Eve, I was on a plane to Detroit.
My mother had just gotten the first piece of a chain of terrible diagnoses. Incurable, etc etc.
I hadn’t been there in several years.
I remember the plane ride, and also I don’t. I remember writing.
A year ago today I was in a love story with The Spy, except even then I knew he didn’t trust me, and because of this, he’d sometimes wind up in the crazy. We fought, a lot. We loved, a lot. We wanted completely different things.
It was big and tumultuous and exhausting.
A year ago I was still completely heartbroken about the loss of [business dream] and being stuck with the chocolate shop that I never wanted.
A year ago I was feeling wildly passionate about dance in general and with west coast swing in particular, and feeling the intense frustration of wanting to figure it out.
A year ago I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but I knew a lot about what I didn’t want. I was waiting for clarity, and listening.
Goodbye and thank you, 2014.
What did this year have for me?
I know that much of the treasure from this year won’t be visible for some time, it will reveal itself slowly. I will look back and laugh. I will whisper retroactive thank-yous, just as I say thank you in advance.
So this is just an initial foray into treasure-finding, treasure-seeing.
Starting with thank you, ending with thank you, because that’s how I’d like to start doing things. I’d like to know what this is like.
I’d like to start a year without grimacing, without shooing the year out, without a muttered “don’t let the door hit you on the ass, buddy” as it exits.
Instead I am ready to look for some thank you moments here…
Some thank-yous from the experience of losing my mother.
Thank you: for two sweet visits.
Thank you: for getting to see this (albeit medicated) side of my mother who was just all sweetness.
Thank you: for the support of my brother and my friends and everyone who supported me in a variety of ways while I was going through this.
Thank you: that this is done and not dragging out any longer.
Thank you for peacefulness. Thank you for goodbyes. Thank you for all the ways my mother kept me company (yes, in spirit, what a phrase) while I was away on my forty three days of wandering in the desert after the funeral.
Some thank-yous from the experience of a painful breakup.
Thank you: for everything that was revealed, even if I didn’t want to see those aspects of him, or of myself.
Thank you: for the knowing that there cannot be someone in my life who doesn’t treasure me, not if I treasure myself, and that is my plan. There is no room in my life for people who don’t trust me, no room for people who say hurtful things.
Thank you: for this clearing out.
Thank you, new beginnings. Thank you, love-more trust-more. Thank you, reminder that I am always okay, that I can’t lose anything that is truly mine.
Thank you, for making it so beautifully obvious what I need and what I don’t.
Thank-you for so many marvelous things…
- A thank you for my beautiful two weeks of quiet contemplation at the Vicarage.
- A thank you for dancing my way through San Jose and Palm Springs on a wild, wonderful secret op.
- A thank you for all the Alphabet Rallies.
- A thank you for waltz brunch.
- A thank you for all the things I no longer feel sad about. Now I feel clear about what I want. Not sad. Just determined. That’s big.
- A thank you for time spent with my wonderful uncle Svevo, both here and in Eugene.
- A thank you for Operation White Out with my friend Luke (the noir gunslinger), and how we escaped the evil clutches of Blakely’s henchmen and had a Grand Adventure when that was exactly what I needed.
- A thank you for meeting the beautiful boy, and for the magical thing that realizing you like someone and then realizing they like you back.
- A thank you for a heart full of joy and sweetness.
- A thank you for new windows in my bedroom, now winter is much more bearable.
- A thank you — endless thank-yous — for the six weeks of Operation Tranquility Recovery Magic on the road.
- A thank you for all the people who read what I write here, who are reading right now, who hang out on the Friday Chicken, who glow love for what is here. This is a wonderful form of companionship, and I appreciate it.
- A thank you for the dance community.
- A thank you for friends who are understanding about how ridiculously busy I have been.
- A thank you for the people who lovingly remind me to stop doing.
- A thank you for the realization about Shmita.
- A thank you for all the things I let go of to get here.
Thank you, everything that brought me to this moment.
Some of those things were not very fun. The sprained ankle that took forever to heal. The deep sadness and regret about the chocolate shop. Neglecting to take care of myself in very basic ways.
I am going to trust in the superpowers of Nothing Is Wrong and This Moment Is Treasure.
I am going to invoke the quality of ILLUMINATION from December of the 2014 Fluent Self calendar, with its superpower of bringing light to the corners. And I am going to add to it the word ANCHOR. That’s the January 2015 word from the new calendar (you’ll be able to get yours soon!).
ANCHOR. With the superpower of Calm Steady Trust is mine when I need it.
Let’s illuminate things and be beautifully anchored. Let’s light things up and see how we already are beautifully anchored.
Let’s bring light to the thank-you and anchor the thank-you and live the thank-you. I’m ready for that.
When I look back in a year, if that is something I get to do, I want to remember what it was like to be someone practicing living through thank-you. I want to laugh delightedly and say, “Oh right, I forgot that this was something I had to learn!”
Thank you for last-year me and next-year me, and for the sweet simplicity of knowing that I can talk to either of them whenever I want, that we can glow love forward and back whenever we want to, all the time, we’re doing it right now.
Come play with me.
If you are in the mood for a thank-you moment, you can leave a thank-you here.
If you are not in the mood for a thank-you moment, that’s fine too. No forced thank-yous here. Everything in its right time.
If you would like to leave hearts or pebbles or flowers, I like all of those things.
If you would like to whisper goodbye to 2014, that works too.
Goodbye and thank you, goodbye and thank you.
I will see you on the other side, and it will be different because of how we entered it.