It is 3:42pm New Year’s Eve afternoon, and I still have not written this post. Every time I start, I read over the introduction and hit backspace. A lot. Writing and the idea of writing are two very different things.
I have known my word for a week, maybe longer. I shared it with two people close to my heart, and they heard me well. I art journaled it.
There are many ideas in my head for an introduction. Lots of backstory. It seems there is always the lead up, and this year is no exception.
Words of years gone by have had a retrospective feel. They met me in where I was in the present while focusing on processing and making peace with the past. Heal. Hope. Embrace. Return. Restore. Persist.
This has been good and necessary, considering that for a long time, I was just stuck. One year I did not write much more than Scripture verses in my journal, because everything sounded the same. I knew that God’s Word would not return void, and that is where I landed.
I am grateful for the rescue that came.
This year is bringing a new thing.
I am ready to risk looking forward and opening to something that was lost long ago. I am ready to imagine.
My inability to imagine has caused no small distress over these past few months, which have been full of people asking me what’s next. Journaling feelings about my inability to imagine for myself while being gifted at seeing for others has led me to ponder more deeply where I lost imagination and relegated myself to the sidelines. Wise guides have come alongside to help me understand.
It was this post by Tracy Johnson that offered more words and insight as to how and when I might have lost myself. I felt invited to explore more. I was prompted to revisit The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel Van Der Kolk, MD, and reread the parts relating to imagination and creativity. This quote resonated deeply.
When people are compulsively and constantly pulled back into the past, to the last time they felt intense involvement and deep emotions, they suffer from a failure of imagination, a loss of mental flexibility. Without imagination there is no hope, no chance to envision a better future, no place to go, no goal to reach. (The Body Keeps the Score, 17)
I am grateful to be in a place of healing from past wounds and to have help in moving forward.
I don’t know what this year will look like, I guess that is part of imagining, but I am open and excited for what is to come.
Thank you, Dear Readers, for continuing to show up and engage. I am curious about how the word imagine resonates with you and about what word you have chosen for this year, if any.
Feel free to share in the comments!
Here is to more than we could ever imagine in 2018.