Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Maintenance :: A Calm Quiet :: Transitions :: Ah-ha!

Edited 01/08/2014 21:30

For me, 2013 was all about maintenance. Maintaining my relationships. Maintaining my job, my house, my health. Maintaining my sanity.

Last year, I had friends that got married and I had friends that got divorced. Beautiful babies were born with all their perfect little fingers and toes. Wonderfully talented, sweet people died. Friends lost their jobs and several friends (me included) were furloughed. Yet, I had friends that moved far away to take better paying positions with new, exciting opportunities.

Overall, I don't feel like I got ahead this year. But, I don't feel like I fell behind either.

I suppose that must be why it has been so difficult for me to choose a resolution for the New Year. By this time in previous years, I would have a bunch of resolutions held over from previous lists, making note of those whose ass I kicked, those that kicked mine, and those I intended to carry on forever. I would have written some witty banter about all the things I did over the past 12 months and how great doing those things with the people I love made me feel.

This year, there is no such list. There is no witty banter. This year, there is only a calm quiet. At first the quiet felt strange. Wrong, even. Then something amazing happened.

Today at the beginning of my regular Wednesday lunch yoga practice, my instructor said something that, hyperbole intended, changed my life. He said, Sometimes we get so caught up in what’s next that we forget about the transition.

And it was not until the drive back to the office after practice that I thought of something another yoga instructor said at the beginning of an early spring, late afternoon practice over two years ago. She said, Mind the gap.

Queue the choir of angelic voices, the overhead light bulb, the dinging bells and blinking neon signs. I have had my Ah-ha! moment.

For 2014, I promise to enjoy the transition. Revel in the journey. Mind the gap. And, let go of what’s next.

What does that mean? Firstly, it means putting down the phone and looking up, around, and at the world again. It also means lingering in bed a few moments after the alarm has gone off before beginning my day. It means making every bite or sip, every breath, every heartbeat count. But, most of all, it means being perfectly OK with where I am. Right. Now.