Today, I received the letter I had written at the Bowl Burning Ceremony last year. I had wondered what had happened to it, as I had thought it was to be returned to me around Thanksgiving. I knew there were some of my forecasted changes which had not occurred, so I was expecting to read those parts and either grin or grimace. And so I did.
But, surprisingly, there were other parts which I had forgotten. I had written of how much I had enjoyed going to Las Vegas with Paul and Cathy and how much I closer I now felt to Cathy. True!
I had written of going to Myrtle Beach with my bird and how much I had enjoyed that experience. True! I had also written of my feelings for him and I was a bit surprised at what I had said. I'll certainly have to give that more thought.
The biggest change I had forecast apparently got lost along the way. I was going to straighten up the house and have folks over more often. More dinners, more get-togethers, game nights and such. Never happened. Hmmm. THAT definitely SHOULD happen... and I'm going to see that it does.
One of the good things I did last year was get a lot of STUFF out of the house. eBay has been quite helpful with that, even paying for my airfare to San Francisco and home from Las Vegas. I think my total items vamoosed is more than 200, which is definitely an accomplishment.
I even cleared out enough that I have an actual GUEST ROOM, which has been successfully used by friends and family. AND, when my bird flew here to nest, I not only helped him locate some furniture for his new nest, but I also supplied him with a chest of drawers. An EMPTY chest of drawers - that's right, I had managed to empty out four drawers full of STUFF. Again, rather impressive doings, as my tendency is more toward pack rat than neatnik.
So, in retrospect, I have done rather well at accomplishing most of the goals set forth in my letter to myself. Now, to invite folks over more often... definitely doable!
And I would follow the advice of Erma Bombeck, one smart cookie! "IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER
I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.
I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have talked less and listened more.
I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.
I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.
I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have sat on the lawn with my grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.
I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."
There would have been more "I love you's."
More "I'm sorry's."
But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute...look at it and really see it .. live it and never give it back."
Good advice for a new year!
Showing posts with label ritual burning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ritual burning. Show all posts
Friday, January 7, 2011
Sunday, January 10, 2010
anticipation
Last Saturday, January 2nd, I did something I've been intending to do for some few years now. I always managed to find something else to occupy my time, but this year, well, this year I PROMISED myself I would attend. I am so glad I did!
The church I frequent has an annual Anticipation Celebration and Bowl Burning Ceremony. It's a very spiritual affair, meant to start oneself out on the right foot in the new year, by literally lighting a flame to habits and ideas one wishes to shed. Narrow strips of paper, a pen, a fire, and a safe repository for the ashes are all that one needs for the Bowl Burning - well, those are the only physical requirements. I was given one slip on which to write, one slip to be cast aside, one slip to contain those things from which I wished to be freed. Amazing how much that narrow slip could hold! And what a sense of satisfaction to watch as it burned, the flame devouring the inscriptions, melting them into thin air. Even more amazing was the feeling that a load had, indeed, been removed from my shoulders and my mind - a piece of baggage I no longer carried.
The second part of the ritual was much more involved. Again, the only physical items were paper, a pen, and ... a self-addressed, stamped envelope. For the Anticipation Ceremony, I was tasked with writing a letter to myself, a letter which would be put away safely until post-Thanksgiving when it would be arriving in my mailbox. In the letter, I was to congratulate myself for the changes I had made in my life in some respect. What? Sure, I write to/for myself all the time, but to do so as an "Atta Girl!" missive for things I had not yet, and might not ever, accomplish? How to even begin such a thing without being totally self-conscious? And why did I have so many sheets of paper before me?
The leader of this exercise, talking softly and almost in a hypnotic monotone, began giving us a list of ideas and suggestions on how we might flesh them out, what points to include... and a thought took hold and I began, not really listening anymore, much as I am when I am at my beach here, much as I am at this moment. Actually, the same phenomenon occurs when I read books or watch movies. I fall into the story, taking it in as quickly as it will allow. When I am writing, I fall into the words, my fingers scarce keeping pace with my thoughts, forcing me to slow down, to stay coherent. So it was as I wrote my anticipatory letter of congratulation. Before I knew it, I was well into the second page and the leader was saying we needed to wrap things up, bring our letters to a close... and I just happened to be at that very point. How did she know?? I closed, placed the script into the envelope and sealed it shut.
I wonder if the echoes of my words will ring in my ears as the year progresses or will those words fade? Will the new me remember what the old me wrote? Rest assuredly that the me which receives the letter will not quite be the me which wrote it, and cannot be. I have already planted the seeds of change in my life and now I will water them with time and nurture the growth of those new bits springing to life. A new habit takes thirty days to become fixed, just as an old habit takes thirty days to cease, regardless of whether the habit in question is life-affirming or life-destroying. Hopefully, I can stay with good habits for the needed passage of time... that fire in which I burn.
The church I frequent has an annual Anticipation Celebration and Bowl Burning Ceremony. It's a very spiritual affair, meant to start oneself out on the right foot in the new year, by literally lighting a flame to habits and ideas one wishes to shed. Narrow strips of paper, a pen, a fire, and a safe repository for the ashes are all that one needs for the Bowl Burning - well, those are the only physical requirements. I was given one slip on which to write, one slip to be cast aside, one slip to contain those things from which I wished to be freed. Amazing how much that narrow slip could hold! And what a sense of satisfaction to watch as it burned, the flame devouring the inscriptions, melting them into thin air. Even more amazing was the feeling that a load had, indeed, been removed from my shoulders and my mind - a piece of baggage I no longer carried.
The second part of the ritual was much more involved. Again, the only physical items were paper, a pen, and ... a self-addressed, stamped envelope. For the Anticipation Ceremony, I was tasked with writing a letter to myself, a letter which would be put away safely until post-Thanksgiving when it would be arriving in my mailbox. In the letter, I was to congratulate myself for the changes I had made in my life in some respect. What? Sure, I write to/for myself all the time, but to do so as an "Atta Girl!" missive for things I had not yet, and might not ever, accomplish? How to even begin such a thing without being totally self-conscious? And why did I have so many sheets of paper before me?
The leader of this exercise, talking softly and almost in a hypnotic monotone, began giving us a list of ideas and suggestions on how we might flesh them out, what points to include... and a thought took hold and I began, not really listening anymore, much as I am when I am at my beach here, much as I am at this moment. Actually, the same phenomenon occurs when I read books or watch movies. I fall into the story, taking it in as quickly as it will allow. When I am writing, I fall into the words, my fingers scarce keeping pace with my thoughts, forcing me to slow down, to stay coherent. So it was as I wrote my anticipatory letter of congratulation. Before I knew it, I was well into the second page and the leader was saying we needed to wrap things up, bring our letters to a close... and I just happened to be at that very point. How did she know?? I closed, placed the script into the envelope and sealed it shut.
I wonder if the echoes of my words will ring in my ears as the year progresses or will those words fade? Will the new me remember what the old me wrote? Rest assuredly that the me which receives the letter will not quite be the me which wrote it, and cannot be. I have already planted the seeds of change in my life and now I will water them with time and nurture the growth of those new bits springing to life. A new habit takes thirty days to become fixed, just as an old habit takes thirty days to cease, regardless of whether the habit in question is life-affirming or life-destroying. Hopefully, I can stay with good habits for the needed passage of time... that fire in which I burn.
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