Anchors

Since 2015 I have been choosing a word to help me be reminded of resolutions, without actually setting any really detailed plans to get myself overwhelmed. My word for 2021 is Compliance. It has become an anchor in this unsure and stormy world, which was always that way, but as we can all agree, our ships have sailed on calmer waters with fewer leaks and many more crewmates.

The definition of compliance to me this year is yielding to the larger voice of the Universe and leaning more into what cannot be changed versus what I can change in myself if I honor the simple, subtle voice of Spirit. Some days it is harder than others. Today appears to have started out harder but I think that when precious sleep is not obtained, that is always the case for anyone who has undoubtedly been there.

So here follow my current thoughts of my word chosen for this year.

Compliance today feels like a mortal anchor. Like taking care of a plant that dies anyway. All contacts muted, minimal survival mode activated.

What keeps you anchored here? Your job? People around you? The next time you will be able to get high, drunk, or drugged? I'm not judging you when I have already had potato chips for breakfast.

Time is a tripwire. Time to work, to leave, to eat, to grieve - which underlies all of it. Grieving like cement. Like a cocoon stuck in concrete, never having a chance no matter how small.

We wear away like stones in the water of time, erosion is not overnight. Anchors holding us underwater become flagrant, oversized. And we have let them. Compliance is yielding to something bigger. Complacency is the direct enemy.

Birds cannot fly underwater.

Cocoons cannot hatch in concrete.

But will they try? Without a doubt. Against all odds, they will suffocate or drown. They become once more lost in the sediment of ground zero.

I feel like this is how New Moon energy works. Everything seems to be turning its back to us. We are tired of fighting. We just want rest and sleep, which are not the same.

Within this dramatic interior, not all is lost. As long as we are still breathing, the electric current of life does not betray us. The heart runs on electrical pulses and it is up to us to jump-start it again, recharge even if it is only reading some words, hearing some music, or poetry, or fire, water, wind. Looking out at a mountain or an ocean or a beloved tree.

There are many anchors not holding us back, but instead, keeping us here. Keeping us safe. Especially when we don't feel like staying. It is then when they become a symbol of resilience and exist to get us through to tomorrow.

There is purpose in waiting, in being neutral and colorless. It is the in-between where we get to chose what we know will make us worse, or better. We are the judge of that, always. The subtle whispers of what is correct for us always returns. Like the ocean ebbing and flowing. Like the moon darkening and glowing.