Christmas is officially over. I sit here, on the living room floor, perched next to the coffee table in my jeans, pulling my sweater tighter to keep the cold out and putting off starting fire. The remnants of the Christmas unwrapping still visible across the floor. One child enjoying a gift, the other still fast asleep from our final holiday gathering last night.
My tea cup is empty and the new year approaches.
And I want something more.
This past year I felt a little lost. So cynical so much of the time. Selfish. Dark. Isolated, even though surrounded by wonderful and lively people. And I needed them so badly to anchor and inspire me.
As this year wraps up, I find myself increasingly wanting to just go for it. Not anything in particular. I don’t have some secret skill or desire I have been harboring inside that I am just going to come out and announce.
No. I just want more intention.
I crave real.
I want to be present and love those around me so intensely that it trickles down and makes a difference in the world.
I want to tend my garden, spend our days outside, read, laugh from my gut, make music, eat good food, sing loud, dance barefoot, give generously, be with friends, meet strangers. Be with and love my family in a way that moves them and makes them feel at home.
I want to grow. Develop my craft and love for it, find deep satisfaction in who I am and what I do, celebrate and enjoy what others are doing also.
And I want to choose joy even when those things don’t pan out. Even when I fall back into that dark little hole and again and I feel unsatisfied.
We need those times. For if there was no time to settle into the darkness and remain uncomfortable, lost and afraid, when we finally see the light, it would not look so radiant and we may never see who we really are or believe.