“And the world cannot be discovered by a journey of miles, no matter how long, but only a spiritual journey, a journey of one inch, very arduous and humbling and joyful, by which we arrive at the ground at our own feet, and learn to be at home.” -Wendell Berry
One of my favorite visionaries is Michael Meade, who often tells the story of the old woman in the cave who is weaving the most beautiful garment in the world, and the black dog who comes in while she is stirring the pot at the back of the cave and takes the garment in his teeth and shakes and pulls at it until it completely unravels. Meade teaches that the dog and the unraveling are necessary for the ongoing cycles of creation in the world, and that what we need do in times of confusion and despair is take up one thread of our life and start weaving. For in the ends of things can be found the new beginnings of inspiration, creativity, openness, life force and joy.
As we come to the end of this month I wonder if there can be any significant endings in the human creation of a calendar year when the Earth will still turn without stopping towards the east on January 1st and the moon phase will continue growing through its waxing crescent to arrive at fullness three weeks into the month. Yet there is something within us that responds to the pull of the end of year holidays, gatherings and occasions to be with family and friends, and consciously note the darkest days in the northern hemisphere and the gradual return of light and warmth. The new year is also a time people in many traditions around the world resolve to make personal improvements in their lives.
I have a sense of our traditional resolutions as commitments we want to establish, with good intentions, to make ourselves and our lives better, in particular ways, than they are now, and that through the right use of discipline and willpower and the surge of fresh energies we will accomplish what we have wished we could have done through the rest of the year. This way of practicing resolutions has not resonated that much with me. I do participate in a burning bowl ceremony early each January with one of my longtime drumming groups in which we write down the things we wish to release from our lives that feel like they have a hold on us, and on a second piece of paper we write what we want to attract into our lives in the next year. We collect the second writings and seal them in an envelope, to be revisited at the next year’s ceremony, and then we drum in a circle while taking turns burning our things to be released in a central fire.
My other end of year practice is to take extra time for quiet contemplation in nature to reflect on my life and the experiences I’ve had over the previous year. I give gratitude for all I have and all that I’ve lived through, and ask to come to peace with any difficult times or relationships. If I can’t come to peace I know there is an area in which I need to pay more attention and spend more time in reflection, and possibly bring to one of my teachers for guidance. The second part of the contemplation is to ask my spirit guides for support in reviewing my ways of being and working in the world. Are my spiritual practices still serving me, or do they need to be revised or changed completely? Is there a way I’ve become complacent and need to challenge myself in my work? Am I serving others in accord with my highest values? Are there relationships in which I could be a better friend, partner, or family member? I invite you to create your own ways of creating space to reflect on your life’s journey, and consider how you might better honor the gifts you were given from your own enormous ancestral lineage. You are the purpose for all the celebrations, all the hardships, and every experience through which your ancestors lived.