Temperance

You know what sucks about the start of a New Year? Agonizing over the weight that I gained from October to January. Every single year I fall off the workout bandwagon at the same time, go into hibernation mode, only to realize that I am a HUMAN, not a BEAR and hibernation has been cancelled. So then, I start working out again which seems painful and inconvenient. Until I realize how much I love it. Where has this been for the past 3 months??

The bright side of the New Year: it’s a freaking NEW YEAR. Oh the beauty of “reset”! It’s like a blank canvas. I have the time to reset my intentions, refocus, re-energize. My wonderful friend, Scott, taught me to pick a word at the start of anything new. This word is a focal point; it is the middle bubble on a bubble diagram. This word will build out the rest of the year. So bear with me because my word for 2018 is TEMPERANCE.

Let me tell you a secret – I am not good at balance. More figuratively than literally although if you asked any one of my three older brothers they would engage you in one of their favorite stories of me running down a narrow, one-brick-wide, landscaping wall but couldn’t take two steps on flat ground without tripping or falling down. I am fairly capable of walking on my own two feet now.

One of my favorite yoga instructors (shout out to The Grinning Yogi – check them out here) put the following thought in my head: “Balance effort with ease”. This was during the summer of 2017, and I have not stopped thinking about this phrase.

What does this trigger for you? Does it shine light on those areas of your life that you keep painfully pushing against? Does it open your mind to value your talents and the ease with which you do certain things? Does it bring up warmth when you think of time with family and friends and the ease of being in the presence of people you love?

For the next 12 months, I plan to intentionally focus my energies where they belong. When things come with ease, I am asking my brain and heart to meet each other in a happy, joyful spot with no ambition or task-making. When things are a challenge, I would like to rise to the challenge and use that opportunity to grow and teach myself or learn from those around me or the circumstances presented to me.

The obstacle I face with this is that this phrase – balance effort with ease – asks me to disassociate myself from people, situations, things, etc. It asks me to give up control. Gasp.

Lydia Davis, an American writer known for her brevity (I am attempting to learn from her but found that this is an area that does not come with ease for me) via short stories, wrote this brilliant grouping of short stories called “Can’t and Won’t”. This piece, in particular, gets me every single time I read it:

My Footsteps

I see myself from the back, walking. There are circles of both light and shadow around each of my footsteps. I know that with each step I can now go further and faster than ever before, so of course I want to spring forward and run, But I am told that I must pause at each step, letting my foot rest on the ground for a moment, if I want it to develop its full power and reach, before taking the next.

(Also, for the record, another one of her stories, “I’m Pretty Comfortable, But I Could Be a Little More Comfortable” is FANTASTIC. Please read it when you find yourself disgruntled and discouraged by your life. Link to her book and the fabulous bookstore in NYC, Strand, where I purchased it here.)

Perhaps this balancing thing is more than relinquishing control. Perhaps it has something also to do with savoring each step.