This is a new kind of new year resolution guide.
One that will
hopefully help to
make this new year
a year of rest.
_
There are three simple steps, and they are
probably not what you think,
but I will let you be the judge of that:
Step 1:
Write a love letter to yourself.
Step 2:
In the letter, wish yourself a year full of
the most wonderful days.
That's right,
write a letter full of wishes.
What I mean is to
tell yourself exactly how you would live
each day,
if you were living exactly as you wish you would be living
(and if your heart felt at rest with
who you are
and how you spend your time.)
Make the wishes lovely, and more importantly, make them loving.
Step 3:
Then, each day this year
(or when you can)
live out little pieces of this wish.
Not all at once (and definitely not with judgement or perfectionism)
but just
every so often
bring into existence
little pieces
of this love letter that you wrote to yourself.
Here is the love letter I wrote to myself, full of what I wish for myself in this new year...
_
I Will Rest:
A new year love letter to myself
Each and every morning, I will open my bedroom window
and I will greet
the morning light.
I will let it wash over my face, I will
open my mouth and let it travel
down my throat and
into my limbs and
through my veins and
I will feel its warmth illuminate me from the inside out.
I will see the morning light’s
soft tint on my skin
and I will find myself saying
wow,
here is my skin,
what beautiful skin this is…
how lucky I am to get to live in this skin.
And each and every morning, I will rest knowing this:
that the morning has come, and I am in it.
You will not find me in yesterday, and I cannot yet be in tomorrow, but
here, in this morning, this is where I am.
Each and every morning, I will ask myself:
What is my resolution for today?
Because
I am allowed to change day by day.
My mind is not meant for a pitch-perfect routine -
a rhythmic agenda that doesn’t miss a beat.
No,
my needs and emotions shift
far too often to know
what each day will hold
and what I will need in
each new day
and that is okay with me…
_
I will learn to love the parts of myself that are human
(that is to say, all of me).
_
In fact, each morning, when I watch
the morning light rest softly on my skin,
perhaps I will let that
remind me of just
how very human I am.
_
I will let myself rest in this: I am a human, no more and no less.
_
And so my resolution might change each day -
one day to climb to the top of a hill,
another day to wash my hair
to eat three meals
to say something kind to myself
or to find new hope.
I know that if I pause for a moment
(and quietly listen)
I will be able to know what I need,
at least for that day.
Later in the day, when it is dark and time for me to rest. I will be able to
let
myself
rest.
Because I will say to myself -
me and the light,
we have had this
whole and
wonderful
waking
day together.
And we will be together again tomorrow.
And since I
fully felt the light today
(and let the sun rinse out my soul entirely)
I can rest knowing that
this day was fully spent, and
I can let it be.
And each and every night,
I will say
thank you
for the soft linen pillow that cradles my head,
for the bed that holds me,
and for the white noise machine
on my bedside table that
lulls me
shushes me
gently to sleep.
I will think to myself, how lucky am I to have
a pillow
a bed
a white noise machine
and a mind to think of all of these grateful thoughts.
_
Because
each and every day this year,
(and each and every night)
I will rest in moments of gratefulness,
and by feeling grateful
I will find new rest.
About the Creator
Laura M.
Living in Portland, Oregon.
Feeling things deeply.
Writing to understand.
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