Friday, November 7, 2014

Stepping into grace



This time next year, I know things will be pretty different.

Bambino will be a year older, which will see him in a very different place to where he is now. He'll be walking and talking and his gorgeous personality will be shining even brighter. My beautiful daughter will also be another year older and wiser, with another year of school under her belt and with even more wisdom and creativity and love to share.

My husband and I will also be another year older, another year further into our forties. We'll have our house renovation plans underway, such that we can move out and start the mayhem the year after. We'll also have had a decent holiday and another one planned (we've learnt how important it is to have a holiday on the horizon, pretty much always). We'll still be lighting the open fire in Winter, enjoying a different cocktail each Friday, missing The Colbert Report, loving each other's company.

And I'll be knee deep in my writing life and loving as much as I can.

But I want to remember something about this time, where I am now. There's something in the air. It feels sweet but slightly elusive.

It reminds me of another time.

Specifically, this time five years ago. I was ploughing through the final edits of my doctoral thesis. I was also negotiating a new role so that I could return from maternity leave to a different day job: in a supportive and welcoming environment, that could comfortably fit into two days.

I felt like I was navigating my way towards a life that was truly me after a year of self-discovery and creative freedom. Soon after -- and without thinking too much about it -- I started this blog. A few days after that, I enrolled in Mondo Beyondo. I toyed with the idea of calling myself and writer and an artist. Everything felt vivid, possible, connected.

There's a sense of that, right now. I'm in the midst of what Mondo Beyondo would call making a clearing so that there's as much space for this feeling to emerge as possible.

Last weekend, I decluttered my closet, putting away Autumn/Winter clothes to make way for Spring/Summer. I bagged up a whole heap of things that I hadn't worn for ages and would likely never wear again. I also went through boxes I'd been storing and filled six 50 litre tubs of clothes to give to charity. Every piece I relinquished had its own story and it felt good to let them all go to become a part of someone else's.

I'm also doing some pretty intense soul work over here. I'm surprised at the number of cobwebs still clouding the view in my psyche. But I can see them clearer than ever. And for the first time ever it feels possible to clear them away. Like with my wardrobe, I feel that there are stories that I no longer need to hold on to. It will be a little harder to let them go with love, but not as hard as I've been assuming.

This time next year, I have the feeling that I'll look back and say that the year I turned 40 was the best year of my life. It was the year that I had the baby I'd longed for and got the publishing deal of a lifetime (there's a few weeks left of 2014, right?!). I stopped taking responsibility for other people's feelings, stopped numbing my own feelings with food and impulse spending. I worked with my totem, got quiet and connected to spirit, submitted to the pull of the moon.

I stepped into my new year and my life with spaciousness and strength.

It felt like grace.

This post is my response to Day Sixteen, the final day of the August Moon reflective writing challenge. You are most welcome to share your own response to the prompt in the comments below. 

Otherwise, the next opportunity to connect is Reverb in December. Join us?


3 comments:

  1. this beautiful, hopeful post reminds me of this song
    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dy3_Qu2KlsM

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  2. I remember those early days... :)
    The journey of the past few years brought so many surprises. Back then... it was such a powerful, potent time... for me also. A time of stepping into my own. Everything felt possible, magical. And right now, there is a bit of that too... a yet unpinned sense of something transforming, completing.

    It's been a privilege to share your journey, dear Kat :)

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