When life is going well, I’m the kid with the ice cream cone, licking it all up, wanting more.
When life goes badly, I want to hurry along, believing, hoping, the future holds better days. Good or bad, I’m in a hurry, hungry for more, focusing on the future.
This year unhinged my usual tactics for dealing with life. Why hurry? I’m fine, right where I am. The future too uncertain to long for it’s coming. Each day holds enough joy and sorrow. In this slowed down enoughness, we face things as they are and recognize the impermanence of life, love, happiness. It is, it is not, it is.
As we wrap Christmas presents, I want to wrap us in bubble wrap protecting us against our fragility and hubris.
And yet I know life demands everything we’ve got and a bit more. Our happiness bubbles pop.
We step into a future and faith–less magical, smaller, and more real. It’s the size of the room we’re in right now. We’re going to need less faith and more practice. The practice of extending generosity to meet scarcity and sorrow, comfort to salve fear, meeting uncertainty with our witness and presence.
In this dark winter, may we light a candle of hope. In our sorrow may we open to our tenderness. May we face uncertainty with courage.