Two years ago, I began an annual practice of making a list of 50 things I did that year.
I approach it meditatively, stream-of-consciousness style, and just let things come without censorship. If more than 50 memories come along, I go with it. If I’m struggling, sometimes it’s just a dozen or so.
Part of the practice is digging into the soil of our own lives.
Some are mundane and humorous—for example, discovering just how large Texas cockroaches are. Some are obvious and major—like moving thousands of miles or a relationship ending.
The scope can be as large or small as we wish. No one is judging, evaluating, or assessing. This is not an Instagrammed list or a marketing stance. It’s not about earnings or followers or anyone else. It’s deeply personal—between you and life.
It’s truly a free, pure, and simple process of connecting with our own lives, meant for no one else’s eyes, unless we wish to share it.
This year’s list includes being soaked in a waterfall in Cornwall, leading 150 people in meditation amongst castle ruins on the Spring equinox, and seeing a comet with my naked eyes. It also includes the simplest things, such as sitting on a balmy Texas porch watching the sun rise and a sweet outdoor community dinner.
I find that while reading over mine, themes often emerge that I may have been blind to in the moment. We can choose to use this awareness to shape our goals for the year ahead but this is not the point.
In contrast to a vision board or “to-do” list, I find that gathering together memories, reflections, achievements, messes, and the general living of the year fuels such tenderness and compassion for myself. I observe someone living bravely day after day, having their heart opened and broken, making wise choices (and sometimes less wise ones), and following the winds.
The list shares some features with a daily gratitude practice as I typically end each day calling together 10 things to be grateful for, 10 blessings in whatever form. The practice of being with what is, and cultivating acceptance, is a foundation for inner alignment and freeing ourselves into life itself.
Let us not let our lives be hijacked even more as fodder for the marketplace. Life is not about the goal or the outcome.
It’s living that we came for—and dying.
It’s being born.
It’s the sunrise over the desert and the smile with a stranger.
It’s our innocent efforts and brave steps.
We are all familiar with the wisdom of hindsight and, as we look at the moments of another year lived, may it help us be awake to this day and whatever days we are blessed enough to live through.
Bless our hearts.
Bless our feet.
Bless our lives.
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