Last week I stayed in a cottage by the river for the night, on my own. It was heavenly. The highlight being time to reflect through an afternoon, evening, and morning in my own rhythm that is otherwise dictated by tending to tasks based on my family’s rhythm. I reveled in taking it slow, which I am doing my best to honor in a month where it feels like it is time to rise and achieve and claim it all in the first new month of the new year.
I reflected upon the year ahead, by looking at wishes I wrote before 2021 had begun.
A few things came true, and many did not. My reaction to what didn’t manifest was the biggest blessing. Instead of thinking: you never do what you say you are going to do, you don’t have the capacity to ground these big dreams. This came through instead :
“Sometimes… one has dreams for the year ahead. The year is lived, and perhaps not all the aspirations came into fruition. This is not an indication of your failure - instead it comments on your bravery for the ability to claim grandeur. It requires vision, and in many instances it can take longer than a year to bring them to life. Honor what occurred, and be patient as the rest continues to come to form, if it will still serve you. “
Such triumph in the softness of allowing.
These words found me last night, as I was in the bath looking through an old journal, and I offer them to you.
May your healing bring you closer to yourself.
May you be in constant conversation with what is sacred.
May your life be fully ventilated.
May you feel fully expressed.
Blessings ahead on the new year, may your approach align to your own divine rhythm.