As 2020 emerges from the cold waters, we take stock of the previous year. It feels as though time is speeding up, the older we get. The truth is, we are squeezing more from each moment, reaching out beyond ourselves, enriching the experiences we have, and walking more in-step with the world.
Looking back, I see how the path brought me here, which at the time was clouded with doubt and unknowns. And I survived, a bit greyer, but also wiser and more aware of what I can accomplish.
As with each day, I hope to begin and continue the new year, being a better person than I was the previous. To continue pushing beyond the limits and self-imposed boundaries, and reach out of my comfort zones, both for my own growth, but also to leave the world a better place than when I arrived.
So we begin 2020 slowly watching the first sunrise reach across the lake and make our plans going forward, letting go of the burdens and baggage of the past, just keeping the experiences and fragments that built the person we are today.
We scramble to remember how cold was last year? How much snow? Where is that puffy jacket?
With little warning, no fanfare, the sky settles into the land, wrapping grey arms around each tree.
The road home follows that reddish path mixed with wet snow into a hazy transition where the sky and land meet.
They become one.
Winter is where peace emerges from the landscape, free of chatter and chaos. Sound and images become more clear and sharp. Music playing since time began surfaces.
In the process of turning within to find warmth and strength we essentially expose ourselves outward to others and the universe, extending a part of our true nature, showing our roots anchoring to this earth, as we reach beyond these limitations.
Another year of growth and another chance at mending fences and crossing divides.
Three-months have passed since I stepped into a new day, awash in Minnesota morning light. This would be the first day free of layered obligations and responsibilities. Stepping into that light, I became acutely aware that the road ahead was not straight and well-lit; was no longer paved, marked with signage, and known so well that I could navigate with eyes closed.
No, that road no longer existed, that chapter has been closed. Now, I look out from the patio and an empty field begins to emerge from the light. Well, the field is free of obstacles, burdens, emotional baggage – there are no walls, no pitfalls. The field is strewn with fragments of glowing cubes shards of various sizes. And there is no sound, they emit no sounds I can hear.
These fragments are however familiar.
I left the previous life with a glimpse of an idea, a plan. Something out there reassured me that the time is right, the time is now. Everything in the past of this life, leading to now, has been in preparation of the next step, the words, sentences, and paragraphs, preparing the next chapter.
Each day arrives with less uncertainty. Fragments vibrate closer to others and become more familiar as the person I will be going forward reassembles with only what is needed. Over time I will become whole and ready to devour the next chapter.
I imagine this scene, a snapshot of any ordinary point in time, perhaps not meaningful to anyone else, is everything I need.
Wandering the path in no hurry, with no end goal, I listen.
For years I have walked this land, but there was always a burden being carried. Aware of this, my attention to where I was, where I was allowed to be, was skewed and incomplete.
The changing sky with rotating blue pockets and clouds twisting into new shapes.
This early May was the first of the year without snow, where we could walk directly touching the earth, between the trees, listening to ravens, knowing that coyotes and bears are near.
The dogs run unimpeded chasing each other down the trails we are building, and into the forest, through raspberry bushes, pine needles, and over fallen logs.
Time slows here.
Intellectually I know that is not true, but within myself, the free being, bends and controls time, and my senses take comfort in living as long as possible in this moment. Even the trees sway more slowly and the sound of wind passing through pine tunnels is music.
With each passing year that puts more distance from the beginning, and closer to another complete chapter, the more I must write of this place, setting the foundation and stages to move completely into the space and continue the journey into the empty fields.