Creating My Own Path into a Nurturing, Artistic New Year
One day recently I looked out at my garden and thought about how I’ll be better able to connect with nature when we finally find our property in the country. I imagined looking out my windows and seeing hills and trees instead of other houses and cars.
That evening when I stood in the garden with the dogs I heard an owl calling. The next morning I spotted a hawk in our birch tree. Since then I’ve noticed bald eagles flying over our yard again and again.
The universe has been sending me reminder after reminder that I can connect with nature right where I am.
In the beginning of 2022 I wrote:
“I know nothing really changes when the calendar turns from December to January, but if nothing else, I’m happy for the chance to pause and reflect. And for the opportunity to shift my perspective.”
I’ve been a lifelong journal keeper. I constantly pause and reflect. And I try to be aware of the lessons I can learn from what’s happening around me. I want always to be open to shifting my perspective.
But I also feel there’s something special about the new year. Not for taking on more or working harder, but for getting quiet and slowing down.
“I’m not going to share tips and suggestions for what you should be doing to start your year off on the right foot. I’m not going to claim to know the secret to setting just the right intentions for the next twelve months. And I’m not going to send you to follow inspiring links to others who have figured it all out.
Instead I’m going to invite you to sit with me in stillness. Take a moment of quiet. Breathe deep. And to listen to your heart. Perhaps it’s hard to hear at first. Be patient. Give it space.”
I feel the same way this year. I hesitated to even write this post today. I don’t want to add to the noise we’re all constantly bombarded with. But as I sat with my thoughts I returned to my why: instigating creativity and joy.
I like to look at the beginning of a new year as a reminder to recommit to what fills me up.
I like to look at it as a big, beautiful invitation. To dream. To imagine. And then to figure out how to put those dreams and imaginings into practice.
But it’s not something I want to rush.
Over the last few weeks, as I’ve played in my studio with some new ideas, I’ve realized I don’t want to rush any aspect of my life.
“Although I relish any chance for a fresh start, this year I’m slowing down. (Borrowing last year’s word) I’m EASING into the new year. Over the years I’ve learned I need to follow my own pace, especially during the winter.
I think it’s so important that we honor our energy, our cycles of creativity and inspiration and the feelings of our hearts.”
I’m taking things slow this year, too. Digging deep. Giving myself plenty of time. I haven’t chosen a word for the year and I’m not sure if I will (I never did last year), but as this new year begins, I’m holding onto an intention I set in December — NURTURE.
I want to nurture myself. My creativity. My art. My plants. My garden… I want to nurture so many aspects of my life and my business.
As I get older I’m remembering — again and again — how important it is to follow my own path. And travel at my own pace.
Taking my time is not failure.
Our society is so fast. (And so full of LOUD opinions stated as fact). But creativity takes time. It takes focus. It requires room for experiments and failures. For contemplation. For growth and learning.
I don’t want to try to keep up with a fast pace. I want to be able to meander. I don’t want to follow other people’s “rules.” I don’t want to measure my success against other people’s definitions.
The beginning of a new year is the perfect time to get clear on my intentions.
Yes, I have projects I haven’t yet finished. And yes, I have ideas I haven’t fully explored. And that’s ok. I can come back to them. Or I can look at them and decide whether they’re still right for me or if I want to let them go.
I can look at my dreams with curiosity. I can pay close attention and ask questions.
The realization that I don’t need to wait for perfect circumstances to connect with nature is a good reminder to look at other aspects of my life. In what ways am I holding myself back? Am I limiting myself with other assumptions that aren’t true?
So as I did last year, I’m inviting you to sit with me in stillness.
Get quiet with your thoughts and your feelings. Listen to your heart.
Our world is filled with anxieties and uncertainties. But it’s also filled with beauty and wonder. I don’t want the one to eclipse the other. I don’t want anxiety and uncertainty to keep me from creating. Or you, either.