Releasing the Year
Solstice is just again behind us and, as the year begins to close and the sunrise pauses on the horizon before changing trajectory, it is a fitting time to reflect on the year that has been. In many cultures around the globe, historically and currently, this window between the solstice (winter, in the northern hemisphere, where I live) and the turning of the year is a time of release. A message that came through my feeds in the turning of last year was the wise admonition that, before we make resolutions for our future selves in the year to come, we should be sure to pause and thank the selves we have been in the current year – good advice then and, I think, all the more necessary a practice now. For hasn’t this year tested so many of us?
Reflection on the passing year leads me to gratitude. When I consider where I was a year ago, I have to admit to being more fearful then than I have been in a great many years, perhaps since childhood, really. And I wasn’t wrong, in the sense that it has been a terrifying and too often tragic year for many. It is important to acknowledge this, and not try to sugarcoat it. For some, the fear and grief of this year might make us especially eager to release it, perhaps too eager, before we have adequately reflected on what it has brought to us. One important lesson of very hard years – what my beloved and I refer to as “crucible years” – is the real goodness to be found in them . . . the support of friends and neighbors, the discovery of our own reserves of strength or determination or courage, the moments of grace or even real joy. And then, for folks like me, who (as it turns out) have been more at a distance from the year’s tragedies, we might be tempted to turn the page too quickly because we are embarrassed by our privilege – though perhaps, if we have shown ourselves to be true allies, we may ultimately experience gratitude or even joy in this apparent redemption. Relying on community, or being relied upon, can help foster connections and strengthen networks. This has been an observable trend for many I know this year, and one that is heartening for all of us to witness.
Whether we have erred or triumphed, though – and for most of us, certainly, it is a mixture – it’s important for us to pause to reflect on the year that has been. I have come to be grateful that my family – my partner, our daughter, her husband, and our dogs – celebrate winter solstice together each year, so that for us, the holiday bustle ends and the pause for reflection begins a bit sooner. My partner and I also celebrate Christmas, mostly with one another and our dog, and also with friends and neighbors who drop by, or kin we visit – but these celebrations are smaller and quieter, often also reflective. In thinking about my year I know that I have not been so courageous as some I know and admire; and I also know that, fearful as I was at the year’s start, I have been heartened again and again by love and caring and have grown in my own courage. I find that, perched here at the edge of the year to come, I am feeling much more hopeful – even as what may be hoped for is still gray and out of focus, barely discernible.
As I release this year, then, may I speak my gratitude for it – for its hard lessons, its grace, its caring connectedness. May I know my limits and give clear and authentic voice to my boundaries. May I love and be grateful to the me that is before moving on to the me yet to come. And may I find the new year ready for its new lessons, opportunities, and joys.