On New Year’s Eve, just as it was beginning to get dark, I had two sudden realizations.
One was that I did not in fact want to go out dancing.
I love west coast swing with an intensity I don’t even know how to describe, and I’ve missed eight weeks of dances in a row, because I was away on Operation Tranquility Recovery Magic, wandering the desert in a camper with a boy, and then because everything shut down for Christmas. So I’d really been looking forward to this dance.
Except…
Except suddenly I remembered that New Years Eve energy is loud and complicated.
People tend to go into that forced holiday thing of “I must be happy! I must have fun! It is required!”, there is an anxious hollowness to it, and it is exhausting (for me) to be around.
I haven’t been out on New Year’s Eve in years, not since I was a bartender working the closing shift, so, I don’t know, eleven years? I realized I didn’t want to be out in the world after all.
Which is funny, because if I’d thought about it AT ALL, I already would have known that.
The other realization was that I needed roses, immediately.
So the house is filled with roses now.
Sweet pale yellow ones, edged with pink.
I divided them into twelve small vases and jars, wandered my house until I found the right homes for them.
One in the bathroom, in a blue glass vase which Mary made for me. One by my bed, in an empty bourbon bottle, because I’m classy. One I placed on the landing, by the watercolor painting my mother made. It’s a painting of a rose.
A rose next to a rose. Glued to the back of the wooden frame is a piece of paper, a sketch of petals with barely legible scribbled notes, it fell out of one of her art books when I was going through her things after the funeral:
“Oh! Part of petal bent forward — notice line of direction (curved!!!)”
Another bit says, “If superimposing shadow over directional indicator, figure out how to shape shadow…” then illegible and then: “More carnation-y looking!”.
Apparently this style of note-taking is genetic, because that’s pretty much how my dance notebooks look, minus the flowers. So we have something in common after all.
I wanted to enter the year with roses.
With roses, with quiet, with releasing, with thank yous.
Each year I let go of something.
It’s not a new year’s thing, it’s more of an end of winter thing.
I have little patience with our societal compulsion for new year’s resolutions. Middle of winter (northern hemisphere) is not a time to mix things up.
It’s a time — for me, at any rate — to burrow under the covers, get cozy, hide, reflect. To melt extra cheese on everything. Not a good time to start running. Not that I’d run anywhere anyway, unless it was for a couple measures of a choreographed routine, but you know what I mean.
I have nothing but love for anyone who wants to use the collective energy and the power of the changing digit as a catalyst. For me, though, the new year is more about quiet, listening.
And then sometime around the end of February, beginning of March, as I get the first hint of a scent of newness, I drop something.
Fifteen years ago: sugar and caffeine. Ten years ago: smoking. 2014: guilt and gluten.
This year, I am entering my Shmita year of Easing & Releasing. I have no idea what I will release, though looking forward to being filled with thankfulness for whatever it is. All hail the magic of letting go of what is done.
Here are my wishes for the new year:
I trust in steadiness.
I have beautiful perspective.
I see the good. I am filled with hope-sparks.
Good surprises find me, and I find them. There is support all around, and I feel it.
It is so much easier to take exquisite care of myself, to make choices based on this.
Funds show up for what I need, and for the house renovations that are needed.
I love more, trust more, release more, receive more.
I am brave enough to say what I want.
I am treasured and appreciated all the time, I can feel this and trust it.
I am joyful in the learning process: dance, ASL, spirals, releasing. My [secret project] reveals itself to me in good timing.
So many wonderful baths.
I intentionally avoid social media and other forms of pellet-pushing, and only play there when it is my true desire.
I live by Nothing Is Wrong.
I am playful with life. I feel at home in my life. I am a bold adventurer! I delight in life and aliveness. I choose pleasure.
I am done comparing myself to others, to past me, to imaginary ideals about how I think I should be.
I release assumptions and welcome possibility. I respect my sensitivities and trust my instincts.
I work with what is, while still remaining receptive to [endless] wonderful things that could be.
Thank you is my favorite word, I breathe it a million times a day.
Yes to bringing my full Havi Bell self to all interactions, all connections. I do not hide who I am or what I need.
I find the fun in all things. I see how beautiful I am. Full-hearted yes to love.
Entering with thank yous.
Thank you in advance.
Thank you, wishes. Thank you, me who is brave enough to wish.
Thank you, warm loving community here, for the past ten years, for making this such a safe, beautiful space that I feel okay sharing the contents of my journal with you.
Thank you, roses. Thank you, mom, for sending me the rose painting even though you hated for anyone to see your art. Thank you, Richard for the wooden frame.
Thank you, red flannel sheets. Thank you, me who recognized that staying home was a good plan. Thank you, home.
Thank you for the things that have broken. Thank you for times I have been redirected. Thank you for the sweetness of anticipation. Thank you for the quiet voice that says what is needed, and for the hard-earned ability to listen.
Meet me on the Star Ferry?
I got my nails painted today, and that is the color: Meet Me On The Star Ferry.
It sounds like magic, and possibility. The kind of rendezvous where you might intend to have a glass of champagne but then you end up moving to Puerto Rico.
I love it. And it goes well with my compass for 2015, the eight qualities I’ve chosen to guide my voyage:
Adventure. Rest. Horizons. Security. Passion. Sweetness. Clarity. Presence.
Come meet me on the Star Ferry, 2015. There will be roses and quiet and releasing and thank-you. I have a bottle of Rose Oil that Agent Elizabeth gave me as a gift, it is called Unrepentant Rose Oil, and that seems appropriate right now as we laugh our way into sweet adventures.
Play with me.
You are welcome to leave any wishes for 2015, any thank yous or anything sparked for you. Or roses. I love roses.
Thank you for being here with me.
Follow
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<3
Thank you. Finding this today is just what I needed to remind me that BEING is more important than always DOING.
Last year the housemate from hell had just moved out. This year it’s been an entire year of her glorious absence. A breath for so much more ease this year without her, for the hope she’s in a better place, for ever deeper learning that I don’t need to be hurt by my life.
Last year we were just beginning to be able to do things like pay our bills when they arrived or get groceries in the middle of the month instead of only after a paycheck had come in. Now we have savings, and a budget, and sometimes extra. A breath for learning to receive, for right relationship to money, for becoming closer with enough.
Last year I hadn’t slept in 13 months. Not more than an hour or two at a time. This year I get to sleep through the night more often than not, ever since April. A breath for rest, for (slow) recovery, for feeling like a human being.
Last year our yard was covered in ivy and filled with broken glass, there was black plastic under the soil, and half of the front was concrete while the other half was grass. This year the driveway is gone, and the black plastic, the grass, the ivy, and some of the glass. There are native plants and berry bushes and rain gardens. There is a me who lives to be outside and even kind of gets plants. A breath for life.
It’s been a hard year, too. Mostly the [something that felt like betrayal] in one of my deepest friendships, a deep longing for community I don’t know how to fulfill, and in giving up several dreams without yet knowing what will take their place. A breath for mysteries, and breath for knowing the mysteries have good in them somewhere.
For this next year:
May I come back to the present to ground and breathe, again and again, as many times as it takes.
May I continue to learn about X. And, for that matter, Y.
May things get easier, clearer, and more loving.
I think that about covers it, actually. I’m curious to see where it’ll go.
<3 to the Fluent-Selfers. May your years be wonderful, and if not wonderful then useful.
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I was overcome, after reading this on NYD, by feeling I needed roses, and i went right out to get them. Lucky, I’m in Miami, which means i just have to drive down the street and people will sell me flowers from the street corner.
White tipped in peachy-pink. SO nice, and very fragrant.
I hate being in Miami for New Year. I like to be home on New Years, so i can do the things i want to be doing for the year (my NY ritual)
Last year, awful things that already started happening.
I am so ready for new adventures. I am ready to treasure myself with awesome wonderful care. I am setting up, and already lviing into, EL Ano de Oro (the golden year). This year;s theme is Foundation and Temple, and that’s already informing stuff. Lots of clues including ‘the healing power of dance.’
Happy New Year everyone!
Entering with roses — I wish I’d done that! If not roses, then some other special pleasure.
Instead, I entered with a list. Two lists. No, three lists.
May I find the joy, the pleasure, the fun, the good, and the useful around me this year. If lists will help me find those things, then yay for the lists. And if the lists get in the way, may I set them aside.
May this be the year of Easing and Rest for me. Rest is the word of the year, the theme. And I want to remember that there are many ways to rest.
Pleased at being able to say a deliberate farewell to 2014 by thanking the Universe for my marvelous life. Entering it with a full night of sleep under warm covers, lots of playing of beloved music on a friend’s piano, a visit to a museum with exquisite paintings, a walk through a park with the sun AND moon both high in the sky, delicious meals, football and food shows on the telly, and Charleston madeira. And feeling loved. And with lots of nervous excitement about projects on deck.
Warm wishes to all y’all.
Thank you for this wonderful blog, and for the calendar, which was a highlight of my 2014.
My gwishes:
i discard anything that doesn’t spark joy
i prioritize health before all else — make sleep and exercise a priority
i have time for what i make time for
Thank you for this space, Havi.
Hello, 2015! My gwish for 2015 is that the re-boot continues, that I:
+recognize what sparks joy
+relinquish what doesn’t spark joy
+refresh my commitment to my health
+reconfigure what doesn’t serve me
May we all lead a remarkably wonderful year. <3
hi! just wanted to say thanks for all your words. I find myself in a lot of the same places you are and have been in life. In fact, so much of what you write resonates with me it should scare you. 😀 Just thought I’d stop being a lurker. Lurker just sounds creepy or something. I try hard not to come off as creepy. Have a good week!
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I wanted to send you in imagination space the ASL for rose. I’m so happy about learning (if you are! even if not!), because I’ve been thinking a lot about the way sign can work for us HSPs. I googled for it… and found roses everywhere. A joyous clue.
I send you rose-scent! xo
(I neglected to mention: I’m learning BSL because of the thinking!)
Thank you!!!!!