WHAT IF . . .

What if I go outside and look for the moon every single night?  Cold, rainy, mild, warm, bright or hazy I raise my eyes and search out the beautiful luminous goddess of the sky.   What if I pause and reset, breathing in the freshness of the night air, thinking about time and distance and how many souls are entranced by the same bright orb?  Wouldn't that magic then settle behind my eyes and infuse my sleep?  I think it would.  

What if I do my best and never criticize the result?  Or even if it is day where my best is not possible,  where I'm a little tired or holding my heart tenderly for some good reason, that I still don't chastise myself but say, "Well, dear, this is your best today."  What if you do the same?   What if we always give ourselves the benefit of the doubt?

What if I spend my free moments journalling or crafting or reading instead of editing my NETFLIX  watch list?  Or trapped by the mesmerizing backlight of my phone?  What if I read before bed every night? That never leaves me unrewarded and numb.  What if we each pick our favorite things--artful or banal, easy or hard,  completely without judgment except that they take us out of ourselves--and do them regularly, keeping the time sacred?  

What if I'm not ashamed of the things I can't control?  Not ashamed of my aging self (shape, gait, weight), not ashamed of no longer working.  But instead, love that I have time to garden, blog, nurture grandchildren, take long baths and even nap.  How long didn't I wish for more hours to myself?  Some doors need to be closed and the pathology of busyness is one, no matter how young or old we are.   As we age we become more inspired, more creative, more accepting and less fearful . . . go ahead and finish the list.   

What if we don't whittle our leisure time away but rather look for richer experiences?  Ones that don't involve clicking and digital distraction.  Nothing is more invigorating that being outdoors whatever the season.  Now it's bundling up and tromping in snow.  I love gathering wood for my log rack.  My husband walks trails.  There's skating and skiing and sledding (and shoveling).  Time with a child is always time well spent; maybe only the grandparent generation realizes this, but it's true.  

These are my what-ifs for February, a kind of time-out for intentions that lead to a better life.  Nothing empty, overwhelming or exhausting.  Tonight I'm starting with the moon; I'll linger when I take Mr. Wiggles out for his last break before bed.  Just a few hours from now.  It will be cold and clear, a lovely North Carolina winter night.  What are you choosing for your reset?      In peace, Nina Naomi

 

 

SETTING INTENTIONS

What better time to set intentions than during the expanding dark of winter as we head toward the longest night of the year.  January is when we make resolutions:  exercise more, eat healthier, go off-line, work harder, call mom . . . . Spring is for to-do lists:  clean out closets, get in shape for summer, spread new mulch . . . .  Summer is for could-do lists:  take a day off, leave work early, go outdoors, make a salad meal, swim in a lake, play a game . . . .

Intentions are different than resolutions and goals.  Intentions are about how we want to be, not what we need to do. Intentions are not a list of tasks to complete.  Intentions are linked to purpose, peace and joy:  This is who I am.  This is how I want to be.  This is how I can serve. 

Your intention might be to be loving, to be kind to yourself and others, to make good decisions.  To be mindful, or to be in tune with God. Intentions can't be ticked off or crossed out.  Being loving is not "finished," being kind to yourself and others is not "done." To create an intention we reach deep inside ourselves.  Intentions require prayers and petitions, hard thoughts and thankful hearts. With intentions we remind ourselves who is on our side, and that God is. 

Setting an intention is sincerely personal and intangible, like prayer, yet others can see the result in you and you can feel it in yourself.  When you intend to lead by example, for instance, or to not take things personally, others notice.  Your family, your co-workers notice.  At the time of decision, "I will not take this personally," you feel it too.  Your breathing slows, as if in mini-meditation. You relax. 

When we set an intention to look for the good in others, we align ourselves with our values. When someone sees the good in us, we respond, we feel nourished, we expand.  

The Confession of Sins from the Book of Common Prayer is tailor-made to help us set intentions.  I can ask myself, "How do I want to be?" and answer, "I want to be one who loves God with my whole heart and loves my neighbor as myself.  This is my intent."  For all my intentions I can ask God to help and guide me.  

We accomplish goals, but we live with intentions. Intentions are not about possessions, achievements or reputation.  They are a Way. Advent is a good time for these thoughts, for setting our intentions.  After all, we wait for the winter solstice, we wait for Christ's birth.  We have time. We wait. 

 

 

 

 

TIME MOVED LIKE HONEY TODAY

 

Monet, "Sunshine and Snow," 1881

Time moved like honey today.  Maybe for most of the pandemic for those of us who from need or choice have been home-bound.  For a change the days have not been over before we've had a chance to pay attention to  them.  Slow like honey; sweet like honey.  When ever have Mondays been like that?  And in spite of the 1/6 events in Washington; in spite of even those.  Congress meets, the cabinet defects, we are another day closer to the inauguration and still the day redeemed itself, as days have a way of doing when we let them.

That's one of my intentions for the new year, to keep whatever good the pandemic has given birth to.  The habit of zooming with friends far away.  The habit of asking how others are doing and really wanting to know.  No more pro forma these days.  The habit of listening, tuning our ear to the nuance of fear or loneliness.  Bringing the indoors out with fire pits and blankets to live in consonance with the season. 

But perhaps most of all the new way of making the best of the worst.  When the mob stormed the U.S. Capitol on January 6 most of us watching the news felt our connectedness to eachother, much as we did on 9/11.  I don't know what all the ramifications will be.  But I'll be paying attention and looking for whatever small part is open to me. 

For now I'll still be doing it from home, whose every nook and cranny I've come to love more during these ten months of seclusion.  The place where we're safest from the virus; where the masks come off and we can hold each other close.   During these months I've lifted so many prayers from this space and had so many of them answered.  One of the unspoken ones today, when time moved like honey.  

Thinking of each of you,  Nina Naomi

 

 

 

 

OH HAPPY DAY

I got vaccinated today.  I must share this.  My heart, my mind, my emotions are lighter.  It feels celebratory.  I want this for everyone.  Each of us.  Whatever age, whatever health, whatever country . . . .  For all of us to have the smile that I am wearing.  It doesn't change my behavior.  In 28 days we will get the second shot.  And even then we will continue to mask, to take care.  But the fear of dying imminently from Covid or spreading it or causing someone else's death is diminished.  I have never felt so lucky. 

I had already been thinking about downsizing my New Year's Resolutions/Intentions.  From Lose Weight (an intention every year since I turned 40) to Enjoying my Food in a Mindful Manner.  From exercising  X number of times per week to Going Outdoors for Part of Each Day.  From reducing phone time to Putting Down My Phone When Someone Speaks to Me.  These are all tiny, achievable goals.  They fall under the umbrella of Living in a Way that Makes Life Better.  

But to be able to follow these modest intentions without the fear of infecting myself or someone else?  Somehow I never expected to reach this stage this early in the year.  After all, 2021 is not yet a week old.  

When good things happen we have to savor them.  We have to embrace them and give them as much notice as we do their opposite.  So often we are programmed to dwell on the negative.  But not today.  Today I want to shout my gratitude for the scientists who found a vaccine in record time.  My gratitude for the health care workers who have kept us alive or attended our dying.    For the 78 year-old Joe Biden who could have stayed in retirement mourning the loss of his adult son (as I have lost mine) but instead was willing to tackle the hardest job in the world.  

Today our local vaccine administrators seemed so happy to see us.  They want people to get vaccinated.  They thanked us for coming, when it was they who deserved all the thanks. Wishing this day for each and every one of us.  In gratitude, Nina Naomi