May your jar runneth over

I always equated “self-care” with making time to get a massage (which I cannot even begin to recall the last time I had one, uh-hum).  But it’s becoming abundantly clear to me that, while it is certainly an individually defined construct for all of us, the core of self-care is clarity – clarity with our intentions.  We often flit around in our busy, over-scheduled lives making grand sweeping gestures about what we yearn for on a soul level, shooting rockets of desire out into the stratosphere, without the specific intentions to support it.  That’s not to say by any means that we have to have all the answers, but we’ve got to put a little energy into the manifestation process and not simply sit around waiting for things to drop from the sky above.A few years back, I remember riding up a snowy mountainside on a chairlift with my friend Giancarlo one New Year’s Eve.  We had decided to spend the day skiing with our kids.  I turned to him and asked, “What are you going to be doing tonight?”  He grinned like a Cheshire cat and said, “absolutely nothing, gloriously nothing.”  No Hollywood fanfare?  No big celebration?  He continued, “It’s my favorite time to be quiet, to read, to meditate, to be still, to write.”  That conversation stuck with me.  I had been conditioned to somewhat robotically do things the way we had always done them in the past.  Reading, writing, setting my intentions and quietly ushering the New Year in – sounded remote and yet, blissful.  Truthfully, I had always been more wrapped up in the festivities than setting aside the time for intentions.I’ve also realized of late, how easily we can get caught in limbo, in a place between setting no intentions and being obsessed with the details – forgetting to leave space for the magic to unfold, to let faith slip into the driver’s seat.  You know…the place where the miracles come in.  Meditating allows our intuition to come forth, and when we get a hit - an idea, a sensation, an emotion – we can then activate it.It has been just a week since issue #2 of BEST SELF Magazine hit digital newsstands.  I laughed to myself recounting how the process of launching each issue is similar to childbirth; once you hold this beautiful creation in your arms – you forget the pain of the process, the deadlines, the late nights, the literal labor of love.  I also recognize that there are a few things I could do to assist myself in the process going forward: to begin with, no over-scheduling and no over-committing are at the top of the list.  After giving birth, I want to languish in the creation before rushing off to the next thing.  It is a time to look around, take stock and beam in the moment of it all, to languish in the stillness.I tell you this because it is my reminder to slow down and smell the fruits of your labor (and the flowers) – to love the NOW.I’ve decided to take some preemptive self-care measures - to gently bid one year adieu, while rolling out the welcoming carpet for the new one.  I want to revisit these past 12 months, yet not linger there.  I want to celebrate and feel the depth of my experience.  There has been great loss and heartache and yet this has been met with beautiful transition and opportunities.  Magical things (people, opportunities, inspirations) have appeared in my world.I am going to sign off now for 2014 – to be in the NOW with my family, friends and that ‘ol “self-care;” to be present with what I have, to still my mind and allow for divine inspiration to come forth – to quiet myself enough to recognize it.  And quite honestly, to settle my monkey mind and get tight with my own mediation practice.BUT before I go, I want to share this with you.  I don’t know how this ever actually came about, but in my family – we are all about the mason jars.  We use them for everything – canning, vases for summer flowers, and coins.  We have one in the kitchen that we all throw our loose change into.  At some point we all started an unofficial “Christmas Club” – putting a certain amount of money into a jar each week throughout the year to save for the following Christmas.Recently I came across a brilliant idea on Facebook that was so steeped in absolute simplicity, yet was such a powerful reminder to cherish the good stuff that is unfolding around you in this very moment.  The intent is to write down on small pieces of paper, the moments you want to celebrate and remember– the things you a grateful for – and tuck them in a jar for safekeeping.  Now imagine your jar filled, cataloging a year of joy.  Then imagine taking a timeout on New Year’s Eve and lovingly reviewing them – recalling a year of gratitude.It doesn’t have to be a jar – it could be a box, an envelope, a creation of your very own choosing.  There is something powerful about pen to paper – tangible results and recalling, a certain declaration to the world.  This isn’t an original idea, but thanks to my Uber-creative friend, Lucia, it is our interpretation of it.Does it resonate?  Would it help you remember to celebrate, to carve out self-care-me-time, to rollout a new-year-intention-space?  I like the idea of keeping it somewhere visible, perhaps on your desk where you glance over at it each day.  It might even help you recalibrate during challenging moments.And so, the end (of one chapter / one year) is near…but remember, there is a big bold world of endless resources and possibility awaiting you.  How are you going to activate it?  What’s going to help you transition from point A to point B?Thank you for being a part of this journey with me this past year.  Each and every one of you, in big ways and small, have helped me land here – at this incredible place of new beginnings.  And there’s no place like home.I’m dreaming of a White Christmas…and so much more.  I hope your cup (jar) runneth over with gratitude!Blessings, so many blessings I send forth to you and our world.