The days pressed in between Christmas and New Year are my favourite.
When our Christmas tree comes down, the extra light I’d forgotten about from the window it stood in front of floods in and lights the lounge room, bright and clear and new.
New like the year ahead.
Rich with promise and possibility.
Full of the hope of resolutions realised.
The expectancy of change for the better. Hope for the future.
This week though, I flicked through my 2015 diary.
It’s battered and worn out, coffee-stained and scribbled over.
The perfect reflection of the year: full to the brim but very weathered and a little bit beaten.
And I couldn’t add the weight of resolutions onto a heart that, if I’m honest, actually feels a bit fragile. Instead, I’ve been thinking about the values I hold true and important, and the priorities I’ll make as a framework for a life lived purposefully this year.
Don’t get me wrong, I honestly believe reflection and goal-setting is of the utmost importance to being able to live in a way that draws us into the most full and abundant way of life.
But this year instead of giving myself a set of guidelines and rules that every year I struggle to reach, I’m being gentler. I’ve asked myself what’s the most important. And everything else will stem from that. My minutes, hours, days and weeks will stem from what is most important.
And sometimes, asking myself what isn’t important helps to distinguish the pearls I need to value and hold precious.
And if I just remember the things I know in my heart to be priorities, and live out of that every day, then I know twenty sixteen will be more full, and less weary. That there will be an overflow, an abundance, a river.
If I learn to walk humbly in the today, without worrying about tomorrow, I know that the unspoken dreams and giant hopes will begin to flourish and fruit.
In my minds eye I see a tiny seedling awakening through rich soil, and hands protectively cupped around it. Protected, valued, prioritised.
I’m thankful that years end, and new ones begin.
Thankful for brand new days, new weeks, new months.
For seasons that come and seasons that go.
For tiny goals, and a whole lot of seedling dreams full of hope.
Twenty sixteen, lets do this. Day, by day.