New Year’s Blessing: 2024

I hope that you’ll be gentle with yourself. When you look back on the year we’ve all just survived, I hope you’ll find forgiveness and compassion for whatever you had to do to get through it. The person you’ve been this year deserves kindness and praise because no matter how much they struggled, no matter how many regrets are tied to that version of you, they did make it through. No matter how frustrated or broken, you have lived to start again, and that’s reason for celebration. I hope you’ll find a way to hold yourself, to honor your hardship and provide yourself with love.

I hope that before you start planning your improvements that you’ll take a moment to acknowledge your wins. I hope you’ll start with a clear accounting of what you’re already doing well. I hope that you won’t blame yourself for societal failings. I hope you’ll omit the word “lazy” from your attempts to do better. I hope you’ll balance wanting more for yourself with compassion. I hope you’ll acknowledge that what once was attainable has gotten harder, and that you haven’t failed for not being where you’d hoped. I hope you’ll remember that as long as you’re drawing breath, you’re not out of time.

I hope you’ll take the time to rejoice in small things. I hope you’ll notice when something smells nice, when a pet is overjoyed at your presence, when you have a good meal or feel a nice breeze. I hope that you’ll find a small piece of happiness in small things, just for a moment, as often as you can.

I hope you’ll allow yourself to take up space. I hope you’ll acknowledge your emotions and make room for them to just be. I hope you’ll open the floor to every part of you that’s been neglected or shut away and allow them to be in the comfort of your company. I hope that instead of shoving back the messy, ugly parts of your survival you’ll honor their contributions, that you’ll see them for the protectors they’ve always been. I hope that you’ll be a good shepherd to all the parts of you, no matter how long it’s been since you’ve let them in.

I hope you’ll take risks. I hope you’ll swing for the fences. I hope the dream you’ve been sitting on for years will finally start to take shape under your fingers, and that you’ll find it was all so much more attainable than you’d once believed. I hope you’ll find, even if you fail, that the striving leaves you content and fulfilled, and that the satisfaction of pushing for something you love makes it easy to try again.

I hope you find magic, not in wands or dusty tomes, but in everyday life. I hope you’ll be awestruck by an ant hill, enraptured by the movement of the boughs of trees in the wind on an otherwise still day. I hope you’ll see the magic in winter, be inspired by the silence of the morning and the sleep of animals to give yourself a season of rest. I hope that when the trees and flowers start to bloom again in just a few months that you’ll be ready to bloom with them. I hope you’ll find the magic in yourself, the insistent thump of your heart and the power you have over the direction of your own life. I hope that you will take responsibility for that power and guide yourself to clearer waters.

I hope that you find your becoming. I hope you find your homecoming. I hope that you find, as you stretch into who you are, that you feel safe there. I hope that as you grow, so will your contentment, your ease, and your joy.
I hope that you will find your own happiness in the new year, no matter how far from the beaten path that may be. If you don’t, I hope that you’ll still be here next year, ready to try again.