I haven’t felt quite ready for the new year. I’ve been dug deep in, first, the warm hug that is Christmas in our house (feel so very lucky to be able to say that) and then the slowness of the pause. The pause. The week between Christmas and new year is the best of weeks. Feels like it could and should go on forever.
My friend and yoga teacher, Erica, used to talk about the pause at the end of the out breath before the new breath comes in. For ages I didn’t get it at all but nodded along as though I did (don’t we all do that?). Until one day I did get it. That pause was momentary but at the same time felt like it could last all day. And such peace in it.
That’s the past week for me. Peaceful. Paused. Slow. Restful – despite there being little physical rest with two bursting-with-energy boys by my side – restful in my head.
So I wasn’t quite ready for 2016 to come in and I wasn’t feeling the impulse to celebrate with more than a quiet nod and some thinking. Something to do with our beautiful two-year-old wringing me out yesterday perhaps. And yet I’ve still woken up changed.
There’s freshness, a glimmer of an in-breath, a gathering of self, an impulse. I came here. To breath life into this space I had plans for but no time or energy to spare for the past few months.
This week I’m going to sit in the space at the end of the pause where the in-breath starts. I’m going to progress those intentions I’m holding in my heart, getting ready to send them out ahead of me; I’m going to settle completely on my word for this year (close but not quite there), do whatever slowly lights us all up and wakens us to the year ahead. Tonight I will sit by the fire with my man and drink the champagne I didn’t feel like drinking last night while we talk about where we’re going, while we stay right here.
Happy new year, with love.