Inspiration, New Year intentions, Wisdom

A Different Take on NY Resolutions

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Sunday share has to be about the new year, right?

To have or not to have new year’s resolutions. That is the question.

me

I found a few articles about the new year (some may be behind a paywall).

“Only 8% of people stick with them (resolutions) the entire year.”- Psychology Today.

I’m in the 92% area, like most of you.

However, I make general writing goals, so I can finish manuscripts. Regarding other areas, what works better for me is to pick one word for the year.

My word for this year is NOURISH. Feeding my body, mind, and spirit, as well as others, is the guiding word for my year.

I can manage 24 hours, and afterward, I feel more accomplished.

The 13th Century poet Rumi gives us an example with his poem:

The Guest House


This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.

Meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.

Because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

Good things will come this year, as well as bad. Hold your intention close and use it for guidance and insight. Do you have a word or phrase to live by this year? Or are you in that 8%?

poetry

Into a New Year with Poetry

A steady light rain has blessed drought-stricken southern California for the past three days. This gave me plenty of time to read, write, and enjoy my Christmas chocolates and teas.

I know it’s Saturday, but given it’s a holiday weekend, I decided to do a Sunday share today to honor the year going out and the one coming in. I find the complexity and simplicity of poetry communicate feelings the best.

Burning the Old Year

BY NAOMI SHIHAB NYE

Letters swallow themselves in seconds.   
Notes friends tied to the doorknob,   
transparent scarlet paper,
sizzle like moth wings,
marry the air.

So much of any year is flammable,   
lists of vegetables, partial poems.   
Orange swirling flame of days,   
so little is a stone.

Where there was something and suddenly isn’t,   
an absence shouts, celebrates, leaves a space.   
I begin again with the smallest numbers.

Quick dance, shuffle of losses and leaves,   
only the things I didn’t do   
crackle after the blazing dies.

And to welcome in a new year: Promise by Jackie Kay.

More rain is in store for this evening, so I’ll celebrate the passing year and talk about the one ahead with my two kids, who’ve decided to stay home instead of attending parties.

A wish for every good thing in your life to come into being. Flip the page to a new chapter and discover what’s ahead.

P.S. If you noticed, I accidentally posted a poem today. I hit a ‘reblog’ button of a poet I follow, Bill Bisgood. He writes a daily haiku. They’re very good. Visit his page.