This year, I don’t have a long list of resolutions. There is just one.
Firmly, with resolve and intention, I choose toward love – especially when it seems love is not present. I am the choice that anchors love into the world.
At first, this seemed like an overwhelming, even impossible thing. But as I set up my tent inside of it – as I get to know it, the choice opens around me. It’s a spacious choice – with plenty of room for freedom and expansion. It unfolds, an easy chair I can sink into.
It is also a path. A spacious tent – and a path.
A path of devotion. I’m discovering that if I feel for the choice toward love, it’s there – hidden in the overwhelm (or behind the anxiety) – there is always a choice toward love.
Sometimes, it’s a choice about someone else; I may have to set aside some important thing I’m working on and turn my full attention to one of my parents, my son, my daughter.
Other times, often, the choice toward love is the exact opposite. I may discover how much my work means to me – how much I love it, and how much I want to honor that. I may have to gently, lovingly remind myself (and some other person) that my need to finish this poem or blog post or chapter matters to me.
The choice toward love may be a choice toward service. It may be a choice to take a bath.
There’s no formula for this. Which makes it always fresh, always new. Always a question, moment to moment: where is the love in this? Or What would love do here?
This is my daily practice. This is my resolution for the new year.