Each December, I choose a word or theme for the coming year. It’s usually something I spend some time figuring out – through a worksheet or guide, like Susannah Conway’s Unravelling the Year Ahead.
For 2015, my word was devotion. Devotion has to do with where we place our attention. And, in 2015 I was devoted to my family, my daily photo walks, creating mandalas, writing, and my workshop community.
It is a beautiful and serious kind of word.
A couple of weeks ago, while driving home from Indianapolis, I was listening to a Good Life Project podcast with Buddhist practitioner Lodro Rinzler, and a theme emerged out of the blue.
Near the beginning of the interview, Fields says that the Buddhist’s he’s met who are truly connected to source are “so light; they’re goofy, silly, funny; they hold life so lightly.”
Rinzler affirmed this thought by referring to his teacher, Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche, and how at his place there’s constant celebration going on. It’s not a serious place. There’s a sense of simple joy in life, in a very basic way. The advanced practitioners he’s met have that sense of lightness to their being. And, I thought, that’s it. Lightness would be my theme for 2016. But, what does that mean for me? How can I bring a sense of celebration to life, no matter what’s going on? And, especially in a time when there’s so much violence and sadness in the world?
How can I hold life lightly?
* Seriousness has its place, but lightness is not serious. This doesn’t mean making light of serious things; rather it’s seeing that there is both lightness and darkness in any situation. They go together. Look for the light and celebrate it.
* Recognize that this too shall pass. No matter how devastating our stories, or how great everything is, it will change soon enough. Don’t grasp too tightly to joy or sorrow.
* Remember that my opinions, ideas, thoughts, and emotions are passing things, and never the whole story. Be open and curious about what I’m missing.
* Allow life to unfold; for new possibilities to emerge. Be ready to let go when the time comes. And, don’t forget to play.
For next year, I will re-double my efforts to finish that book, to read, write, and travel, and to meet and share and celebrate life with others along the way. I’ll be open to whatever life brings and respond in kind. I’ll be open to new possibilities in my business and life. I’ll celebrate each day that I’m given.
Thank you Kim, for many things, like reminding me about downloading some podcasts for the car, and for the idea of taking things lightly. I notice, often, that my teachers also have a lightness to them. I can be so serious. My kids always comment on this. When I am with my old friends, we laugh so much. I go away from those visits wanting to bring that lightness with me. I look forward to witnessing the evolution of your book and your work in the world. Thank you for linking to my post. xoS
Great to see you here, Suzi. Believe me, I tend to be very serious aka deep. My son told me something very unexpected on the phone a few weeks ago and it made me laugh so hard. He told me he had never heard me laugh like that before. That made me kind of sad and kind of happy too.
Hi Kim and Suzi!
Kim, I can help you with this. I listened to that podcast too (Lodro had a wonderful laugh) and was also captured by the ‘lightness’ conversation. I felt so validated – humour and an unwillingness to invest so completely in the dramas of each moment have generally been seen by those around me as weaknesses. It’s like ‘intelligent’ people with depth of character must be more serious or appropriate or something.
I’m letting more of my Self out for public viewing now (almost wrote ‘judgement’ instead of viewing – it is that unfair and inaccurate judgement that has trapped me in fear for so long).
For instance – here at work, so many of us are exhausted, there’s so much going on and only so many of us, and so much time, to do it.
Just before heading to lunch, I sent an email to a few people
Subject Line: Dance Party, my desk, 2:30pm.
Content: I’m having a dance party at my desk. Hula Skirts and Maracas are mandatory. Hope you can join me.
PS: this isn’t actually true I wanted to gift your heart and imagination with something to look forward to. Inside our Selves, we’ll have a wild time – dancing like no one’s watching …
I’m a kook, but they’ll miss me when I’m gone.
Kim, you have an incredibly beautiful smile, it lights you up completely, eyes and all. Making this decision toward laughter and lightness, I have mo doubt you’ll become a magnet for much wonder and delight.
Yes, they will definitely miss you when you’re gone. Thank you for the encouragement, Sally. For awhile I was taking one song dance breaks from my work. I think I’ll have to bring that practice back to life.