re-reading journals

New Year’s Reflections

/ nagneberg48 / 6 Comments

January 2, 2024

At the beginning of each new year, I read my journals from the year just past. What were the highlights? The gifts? How well were intentions met or were they discarded? What themes evolved during the year? And what losses were encountered along the way?

At the beginning of 2023, I was trying to shed a lingering cold, not COVID, but a cold that zapped energy and enthusiasm. I was also feeling deeply the loss of a dear friend who had died at the beginning of December. On that first day in January, 2023, I remembered how we entered 2020 totally oblivious to the pandemic about to strike our lives, and I wrote, “What losses will this year bring, for there will be some. How close to my heart will they be? How major will they be in the way I live my life? Or will I be the loss?”

Typically, I’ve entered the new year with energy for new beginnings, new projects, and eagerness to meet new or continued goals, but in recent years I’ve learned to hold expectations more lightly. Perhaps I am learning how to hold life more lightly, too. And more gratefully.

What does this have to do with the photograph of the tree on our boulevard? Well, one morning right after Christmas, I settled into the snug for morning devotions and when daylight appeared I was stunned to see the trunk of this tree and 13 others on our block wrapped in bright green rings. Soon these diseased trees will be removed. The grief has begun.

I think I am grateful, or at least I am trying to be, that we will lose these trees during the bareness of winter. Perhaps the absence of these trees during the non-leafy, non-green months will help us accept the starkness, the lack of branches arching over the street and the sidewalk. I don’t know when the tree removal people will set to work on our block, but I’m trying to use this time to prepare my heart and soul for this loss–as well as other losses, known and unknown, to come.

How do I prepare?

My day begins in stillness, in silence. These winter days it begins in the dark, as I watch the light begin to make its appearance. I whisper my first prayers of the day. “Thank you for the rest of the night. Thank you for the promise of a new day. Thank you for your presence. May I be aware of your presence in all I do and all I am. May my loved ones be aware of your presence. May all who know the losses that life brings know your presence.”

I read the day’s selection from books I have chosen to accompany the year’s pilgrimage. This year I have chosen Daily Readings with Margaret Silf, along with a book I have read before, Fragments of Your Ancient Name, 365 Glimpses of the Divine for Daily Meditation by Joyce Rupp.

A new year and another mile of the journey. Three hundred and sixty-five new chances to watch the sun rise on God’s surprises along the way. Three hundred and sixty-five windows of opportunity through which to glimpse the face of God in the rock face of everyday life.

Margaret Silf, p. 3

Your intimate presence startles my soul…

I ask for the simplest of gifts from you…

The blessing of communicating with you.

Joyce Rupp, January 1

Even as I grieve losses of the past, as well as losses tender and new, and feel the flicker of losses yet to be, the amaryllis in the snug reminds me we are each living and dying at the same time. And we are each beloved.

May this new year bring you many blessings. Happy New Year!

An Invitation

What are you bringing into the new year? I would love to know.

January Check-Up

/ nagneberg48 / 8 Comments

January 10, 2023

Defrocking happens first.

And then resetting.

Room by room.

From this:

To this:

Even the bedroom moves from holiday cheer to winer warmth.

Sometimes I feel like a set designer, but restoring order and creating comfortable, interesting spaces has always helped me move forward into the next step, the bigger task. At this time of the year the goal is to move into the new year.

Shopping the house and rearranging and fashioning a slightly different look in each of our rooms is only part of the new year assignment, however. Not as physical, but just as important, if not more so, is my annual ritual of re-reading my journals from the previous year.

Sunday afternoon I settled into my Girlfriend Chair in the garret and re-lived the past year, As I read, I wrote down in my new journal some key events and thoughts, and I noted signs of growth, along with what I still need to learn. I looked for patterns and ongoing questions. I was touched by the joys and the deep sorrows.

I honored the past year and my life in that year.

Some Key Learnings

  • My word of the year was rhythm. I was more aware of my own rhythm. Along with being aware of each day’s rhythm–appointments, items on the To Do list, my husband’s needs and plans etc–I became more aware of my own rhythm and the pace I needed to function and live well. I often asked myself, “What is possible now?’ as well as “What do I need right now?”
  • About this time last year I entered a time of intentional discernment about whether or not to continue working on my memoir. I gave myself time and space to listen to my heart and to explore what gives me purpose and meaning. I asked myself how I wanted to use my energy now. The result of this discernment time was to let go of my memoir as a book, No regrets. In fact, I have felt lighter, freer, and in some ways I have reclaimed myself as a writer, not as someone who hopes to have a book published. Here’s the other thing: I have discovered that I was not just discerning whether or not to continue working on my book, but I was discerning how I want and hope to live my life, this stage of my life. Like decluttering, discernment is an ongoing process.
  • This stage of life, these elder years, are tender ones in which loss plays a primary role. More and more I realize the importance of spiritual practice in my life; the need to maintain the ways I ground myself and deepen my relationship with God, along with ways to remain open. How do I continue to discover and live as the person God created me to be?

Simple Things That Added Joy

So much in my life continues to be life-enhancing, including meeting with my spiritual direction clients, facilitating the writing group at my church, attending weekly services, being with family and friends, writing this blog, and even continuing the process of decluttering. Along with these ongoing aspects of my life, I noted in my journal other pleasures.

  • Entertaining at 4 o’ clock. Some snacks and beverages and gathering with a couple friends in the living room or on the patio. Easy. No fuss. Wonderful fellowship.
  • Continuing to roam. Driving to small towns in Minnesota and Wisconsin. What’s interesting here? What would it be like to live there? We made a point of visiting the library in each town, and, of course, having lunch at the local bar or coffee shop.
  • Installing new carpet in the bedroom. Fresh and clean. A lighter look.
  • Working on shorter writing projects. Submitting to various online venues and having some published.
  • Trying to stay away from my desk on Sundays. I’ve noticed major slippage in that department as the year progressed, but I am restating that intention for 2023.
  • Writing 6 words to describe my day. For example, “Explored near and not so near.” or “Practice, play, prepare for next week.”
  • Listening to my Pandora station, Christmas piano music, all during Advent. Such a lovely, soothing background for whatever I was doing.
  • Facilitating conversation groups on topics important to those 55+.

I have not completed my January list—there are closets to clean and papers to organize and the oven is dirty, but even so I am planted in the new year, and I am grateful to be here.

One more thing: Thank you so much for reading my posts and for your kind and thoughtful words. Writing this blog is one of my pleasures; one of the ways I continue to learn and grow, and I thank you for your patience as I continue in the practice of life.

An Invitation

What are your new year’s rituals? I would love to know.