Good Intentions

Today, as you probably know, is the darkest day of the year.  I've mentioned before that my family has had a tradition of lighting candles on this day, and in the lighting, bringing our intentions to light the dark in our lives, and saying aloud our hopes for light and air and warmth as the sun returns.

We've turned the wheel again, or perhaps it has turned us, and merry Solstice to you.

When we started this tradition, life was good.  We were planning a family, and our hopes for the new year were very specific and tangible.  A baby, please.  As that process became more complicated, and hoping got more difficult, I lit candles for keeping our dreams alive, for learning acceptance, and yes, for the small hope that someday we might have our wish come true.

It did, of course, and six years later the kids can light their own candles and dream their own dreams for the coming light.  I love to watch them imagine themselves into the future, even if the wish is more Santa than Solstice.

My intention, though, feels like my own turn of the wheel: not moving forward so much as coming around again.  My intention this year is to have intention.  Somehow in the crush of life and kids and jobs and stuff, life has gotten to be less what I make it, and more what it makes me.  While I have no illusions of control or linearity, perhaps I might be happier, a better friend and mother, and live a more meaningful life, if I moved through it with a bit more purpose, instead of letting myself be buffeted by the winds of the many things and people and forces that act upon my life.

I'm struck by how cyclical this all is, how life is never attained, but rather maintained, and how doing it well never gets easy.  In my twenties I thought I'd figure stuff out.  I went to therapy, I read and thought and imagined who I wanted to be and then went to try to be that person.  And I got sort of close, and it felt pretty good.  The amazing thing is that it's not about doing it once, it's about doing it over and over and over again.  And then not stopping for a moment because if you do, you'll lose all the presence and awareness and wholeness you were going for, and you'll start all over again.  I suppose the Buddhists really do have it right: you can't get attached, because then you're not really doing it, you're just holding on to the idea of doing it.  It's not about the idea of awareness.  It's about awareness.  And it's the work of every moment.

Man, that's not easy.

But I suppose that if anyone ever said anything about life, it's not that it's easy, huh?

So my intention to light this day's dark is this: to carefully kindle the small flame of my intention--of the person I want to be--as I walk through the windy world.  I will step carefully, and my hands will grasp less and shield the flame more.

May your own darkness be lit by the returning sun.  I'll hold your intentions, spoken below in the comments or held close in your hearts, for the coming year.

Bright blessings all...

Comments

[Carole]

You always write so beautifully about this. My intention in the coming year is to grieve less and live more.

[Kim]

Amen.

I'll have what you're having.

[claudia]

The category of this post just cracked me up.

Thanks for the reminder about the part of this holiday season that is actually meaningful to me.

[Bethany]

This post actually brought tears to my eyes.

My intention for the coming year is to love more generously, including myself.

[Deborah C.]

That was beautiful. I would like to talk less and do more. Talking about something does not accomplish it, it just postpones the doing. Blessings on you and yours!

[Ruth]

Beautifully said. My intention for the coming year is to practice mindfulness. To do what needs doing from a place of calm awareness and understanding, rather than so often being caught by surprise, lurching from one knee-jerk response to another.

[Rachel H]

I always look forward to your solstice post. Thank you.

[Judy]

Thank you, Cate. I'll also think of you when I light my candles.

[margene]

So beautifully said. May the blessings of the light be on you and yours.

[Kat with a K]

I always look forward to your solstice post as well. My intention for this year is to work on weeding out the "stuff," both physical and psychological, and focus more on what really matters to me.

[Laurie]

It's been a year already? That certainly proves part of your point. Well stated, well constructed, wise. Thanks.

[Teresa C]

Funny how it is, excercise is the same thing. You almost get there, but you can't ever quit.

I have been thinking a lot about living more intentionally lately. I'll be checking back to see how you are doing and if I come up with anything.

[tina]

Damn good post!

I love solstice as well and my intentions are similar. Mostly to make more room for love as that seems to be the one thing that solves it all.

[Manise]

Beautiful post Cate! Thank you. My intention is to love myself more and hurt less. It's funny without being mindful that tonight was Solstice I spontaneously lit an identical looking candle to yours at dinner time. :-) It's still burning.

[The Feminist Mafia]

Oh, your beautiful solstice post. I've been looking forward to this all week. It's like a breath of fresh air. Thank you.

And thank you for helping me think about this stuff. 'Tis good thinking.

My intentions -- to accept that xifey may have been right about one thing. Perhaps I wasn't loving her. Perhaps I was loving the idea of her, and the idea of our perfect little family life.

So I intend for this longest night to also be my darkest night, so that tomorrow's sun will bring the strength I need to create peace, security, safety, and stability in my world, as well as to protect myself and my boy from the harsh winds. To take this unexpected turn of the wheel and use the opportunity to see who I am, who I am alone, who I am without the trappings, and to love that woman. To pour all of my love into myself and my child. I'm ready to emerge from this darkness and walk that path, slowly and with a full heart.

[betsyl]

i am working on accepting that i am not in control of everything, and that for some things i need to just relax and breathe and see what happens.

[marcia]

I like the winter solstice. It's a turning point to the good. It makes me hopeful. It's like bottoming out, with only one way to go from that point.

Spring solstice, on the other hand; bummer.

[Aubrey]

Thank you, Cate. My mind needed to read that this morning. My intention for the coming year to not to let my work life interfere so much in my home life, and to live the home life more healthily and more fully. Bright Day to you and yours.

[carole]

Wow. Beatifully said. Thank you.

[PumpkinMama]

I love this post. Gives me much food for thought. Happy Holidays to you and yours.

[Cassie]

Lighting our candles/lights here (and I'm thinking of you). Everything you've said is so true, and yet so hard to live sometimes. This year has been a real test, so far, and yet... it comes around again, doesn't it?

Blessings to you and the family as well.

[JoVE]

Lovely post. That intention is probably taking you a good long way to a more peaceful year already. All the best for the holiday season.

[Jo-Anne]

Beautifully written.
Thank you.

[knittingmother]

Lovely words from a lovely mommy to two angels. May your solstice wishes come shining through the coming year. ((((HUGS)))) Aren't we blessed?!

[kmkat]

As a person who is a decade (or probably two, and maybe three) older than you, I look at life differently. Although there are still struggles, my real knock down-drag out years are pretty much over. Life becomes more... calm after 50. And that is good. We over-50s don't have a lot of extra energy to waste on struggles that are, in the long view, meaningless. (It is no accident that the child-rearing and career-building years happen when we are still strong enough to endure them.)

There are fewer forces buffeting me these days, and I feel more able to slow down and live in the moment. Children are grown and mostly gone. Marriage is steady and comfortable. Work is satisfying but without pressure to advance. The total number of moments to come has become finite, although still, I hope, a few more than I can count. There are those still moments of extreme clarity, when something that has bothered me for years finally becomes clear, or when I look at my children and realize [with joy] exactly who they have become, or when I simply feel myself to be a part of the wholeness of all. Those moments are more frequent now than they were during those stressful mid-life years.

Life continues to get better if you can live long enough, keep mentally active, and stay healthy enough to enjoy it all. {{{hugs}}}