New Year's Resolutions in Celebration!

I've been pondering this post for a few weeks in an effort to whittle down a long list of potential resolutions into a short list I can actually remember.

My new friend, Janet (who writes a terrific blog about writing and other stuff) has selected a single word to represent her aspirations for 2012 - "focus". I thought it was an excellent choice - so excellent I considered selecting the same word until I came up with another I thought would be even better for me - Celebration!

2012 is going to be a big year of celebrations for Husband and me. We're both facing milestone birthdays (don't you just love euphemisms?), he's retiring, and we'll soon be marking the 25th anniversary of our first date. Since we plan use those occasions as excuses for a variety of parties and trips, "celebration" seems a fitting word to describe what much of the next year will be about.

But the word has a another significance for me too. If you've been reading this blog for awhile, you may have noticed the past year has had its challenges. In fact, parts of it were downright nasty. Now that I'm finally climbing out of the murky slough in which I found myself (once and for all, I hope), I realize just how lucky I was to have so many close friends and family who helped me through it. So 2012 will also be about celebrating the people who loved, supported and inspired me in 2011 - not to mention, all the important stuff I learned along the way.

Now, about that list of resolutions ... here are my top 3:

1. Love more - by which I mean, take better care of the people I love, and be more compassionate, generous and forgiving generally.
2. Take better care of myself - for starters, by being more compassionate towards myself, putting on a little weight, getting more rest, and having more fun.
3. Be more productive - which, amongst other things, means spending more time in the "real" world and less time in the "virtual" one so that I can focus (there's the word again) on the things that matter most.

What about you?  What are your resolutions for 2012?

On practicing maitri

Lately, I've been rereading a wonderful little book by Pema Chodron which was recommended by a friend. One of my favourite passages talks about the importance of maitri, the Buddhist practice of showing loving-kindness and unconditional friendship towards oneself.

As some of you know, I'm a bit of a perfectionist. Okay, some might even say I'm a control freak. It's something I've been working to change about myself for years - ever since I realized how unhappy it made me and those around me. For awhile, I thought I might finally have made some progress. Recently, however, I've come to the painful realization that nothing could be further from the truth. The way in which I express my desire to control may have undergone some superficial transformation, but the underlying inclination is still very much a part of me - as dark and destructive as ever.

Happy Love Day!

Okay, I know I'm a day late but, personally, I think Valentine's Day celebrations are worth extending a day or two. Not the cheesy hallmark celebrations. The other kind - the ones that celebrate love in all its beautiful and varied expressions.

The truth is we never know when and where love is going to come from - which is one of the very best things about it.
 
For example, in my current job I work with an fabulous group of women who, despite being incredibly busy all day every day, still find time to care for and support one another. And they have effortlessly (it seems) offered me that same caring and support. It's wonderful knowing I have that kind of "love" waiting for me at the office every morning.  

For another example, a friend who had been home sick with a stomach flu for two days called last evening to see how I was doing because she was worried I might be lonely and missing my husband. (I did miss him but we celebrated early so I was fine with being on my own last night.)

Then, this morning I received an incredibly thoughtful, wise, funny and compassionate message from a dear friend I haven't seen in more than 20 years. It was so perfectly what I needed today that it made me cry - and reminded me yet again of how many really good people there are in the world, and how lucky I am to call so many friends.

And, then, there are all those unexpected and unnecessary acts of generosity and kindness that occur in our day-to-day interactions with people - on the bus, at the auto repair shop, in the library.  On Valentine's Day and every day, I want to make a point of noticing and celebrating those as expressions of love as well.

Love really is all around us it seems. All we have to do is pay attention.

Lost Friends and New Year's Resolutions

I've been thinking a lot about friendships lately. I'm still close friends with a number of the people I went to school with 30 years ago. I've always thought there was something special about such old friendships - because they give us glimpses into who we were when those friendships began, because they have been honed by years of knowing and forgiving one another's faults, or simply because friendships formed early in life are "hard-wired" in some way.

Unfortunately, as I've learned in recent months, even such old friendships can come to painful ends. Dishonesty and insensitivity on the part of close friends is hard to forgive - especially when they result from what appears to be little more than selfishness.

Responding to my evident disappointment at a friend's behaviour, a former classmate sent me this wise, insightful and comforting message:

We are at that stage in our lives where we are most vulnerable to this kind of thing -- old enough to think we really know the people we thought we have known forever, and so probably more reliant on the stability that view of the universe brings us. It can also disappoint because it leaves you with the feeling that the relationship you had in the past was not as real or authentic as you thought it was. So it can be quite destabilizing when this happens. People can and do change with time... so one person's behaviour that disappoints you today may not always be a sign that you were deceived in the past. I have been bashed about a number of times in the last few years with things like this in both the personal and professional. Perhaps one of the reasons it is hard to accept is that as we get older, our closer and dearer friendships seem more valuable and harder to replace. So when one of them seems to be really damaged there is an even deeper sense of loss.

I've written before about forgiveness and how difficult it is. My better self knows we are all just human beings, equally fallible and worthy of forgiveness - but knowing that does little to ease the sense of loss. More troubling is how tempting it can be to want to seek retribution for the pain inflicted by a friend's betrayal.

To my mind, real love and forgiveness aren't about forgetting past wrongs or ignoring reality. They're about finding ways to accept our friends and loved ones for all they are, sending them light and love, and then (if it's for the best) letting them go - as sad and hard as that may be. 

In 2010, my New Year's resolution was to "love fearlessly" recognizing that love is not always returned in the ways one hopes. As naive as it sounds, I've decided to make the same resolution this year - along with three others:  To try harder to forgive friends who disappoint, to accept truths about myself and others I'd prefer not to see, and to nurture reconciliation whenever possible.  It's a pretty ambitious list, but the alternative (harbouring disappointment and anger indefinitely) seems a much less appealing prospect than challenging myself to do better.

Springtime Reflections on a New Year's Resolution

I love running in the spring when it seems as if the whole world is waking up again. Gardens in my neighbourhood are already decorated in the brilliant colours of tulips, daffodils, hyacinth, and other spring flowers, and it will only be a matter of days now until the azaleas, dogwood and cherry trees are in full bloom.

As well as lifting my spirits, springtime inspires me to revisit my new year's resolutions to see how I'm doing. This year, I kept my list of resolutions short and have managed to stick to most of them so far. More regular exercise? Check. More patience with unending home renovations? Check. More time with friends? Check.

The one resolution I've struggled with is the one I wrote about here a few months ago -- that is, my resolution to "love fearlessly". What I meant by that was that I wanted to try to care for others without worrying about whether they deserved it, what it might cost me, or whether my love would be returned in the ways I wanted.

The yogis I know make that kind of love look easy. Their open-hearted acceptance of others shines through their eyes and faces. Their expressions say they know who and what you are but they love you anyway. Unfortunately, it's not as easy as they make it look -- at least for me.

And that's a shame because loving is a glorious thing in and of itself. All the individual acts of love -- giving, sharing, accepting, listening, understanding, supporting -- feel really good when I do them. Things only go wrong when I start to focus, not on the love, but on what I want or expect in return.

In another post, I wrote about "wanting" and concluded it wasn't always such a bad thing. I still believe that. But wanting too much or wanting things I can't have can be painful and uncomfortable for all concerned -- which of course begs the question, why do it? Rationally, doesn't it make more sense to just love without wanting or expecting anything in return, trusting that in the fullness of time what goes around comes around, sometimes in unexpected ways?

As a general rule, I think so -- which is why I used my run this beautiful, uplifting spring morning to recommit to that new year's resolution: to love fearlessly, with optimism and hope and without expectation, and to be genuinely grateful for whatever love comes back to me.

My New's Year's Resolution: To Love Fearlessly

I’ve been thinking a lot about my friend, Annette, lately. Annette was a passionate activist and academic who worked tirelessly with a variety of community and international organizations to end violence against women. When she died at the age of 36 from breast cancer, thousands of people around the world mourned her loss – not only because she was such a fierce advocate for women, but because, in doing that work, she demonstrated such an enormous capacity for love.

I first met Annette when we worked together for a feminist international development organization. Her passion, commitment, and optimism – particularly in light of the hard issues she tackled every day – were truly inspiring. But, as I got to know her better, I was struck by something else – how fearlessly and generously she loved – her family, her friends, her colleagues, the women on whose behalf she worked and total strangers who needed her help. She never shied away from expressing admiration, affection, generosity or compassion. She never wasted an opportunity to make a new friend. And her love was infectious because those who knew her were so often inspired to become more loving themselves.

In our society, we too often think of love as a commodity – something to be carefully measured and traded – as if we should only love those who love us back and to precisely the same degree. Though often spoken of, unconditional love is hard to come by.

But of course love isn’t a commodity, or at least it needn’t be. Love can transform us in profound ways. It calls upon us to be our best selves – generous, accepting, forgiving, patient and compassionate. At its best, love is offered with hope and optimism, and no expectation of reward.

Personally, I've not always loved the way I should have. Too often I’ve become angry or resentful when the people I cared for didn’t return my love in the ways I wanted them too. Worse, I’ve sometimes refused to express love in the first place – out of fear it would be rejected or misused, or that those I loved would ask more of me than I was prepared to give. More recently, I like to think I’ve gotten better at accepting the people I love for who they are, and at being compassionate and forgiving when they say or do things that hurt me. It seems to me that, whatever the response, just being able to love (when so many people can’t) is one of life’s great gifts.

Annette passed away at home on December 23, 1998. The last time I saw her was a few weeks before at an event held in honour entitled “A Celebration of Life”. When she arrived at the party (a bit late because she was so ill by that time), she wore a long, navy gown, with a hot pink boa around her neck, and she looked as beautiful and vivacious as ever. For the next two hours, she slowly circled the room talking with as many people as she could, expressing gratitude for the support she’d received during her illness and (I now realize) gently saying her goodbyes. The love in the room that night – hers for all of us, and ours for her – was palpable.

So – in honour of Annette – I’ll be thinking a lot about love this Christmas. And my New Year’s resolution is to try harder to follow her example – to love fearlessly, with optimism and hope and without expectation, and to be genuinely grateful for whatever love comes back to me.