I can’t believe December is here and we’re facing the turn of not just another year, but another decade. It’s so cliché, but where does the time go? Last night I had a dream where I looked at my daughter and said, you’re five now right? She said, no, I’m turning ten. Then I did the math in my mind. I was 32 when I had you, and I’m 51 now, so you’re turning 19 this month! I’ve been paying more attention to my dreams lately and the hidden wisdom they contain. I’m not sure what my subconscious was telling me, but I do feel particularly in awe of the passage of time.
When I was growing up my mom used to quip, “I have shoes older than you!” when she wanted to exert her authority and remind me of her wisdom. And, now, I too, have many possessions that were obtained before my daughter ever entered this world. The passing of years feels like a long continuum – a sacred thread, twirling and twisting through seasons and decades, with continuous opportunities for growth, purpose and actualization. My mother is no longer with us. I have to remind myself that the ability to experience the passage of time is a privilege.
There seems to be some consensus that the ancient Egyptians were the first to record time using sundials and shadow clocks long before modern technology. I sometimes wonder what life was like in ancient times when everything was new – even the concept of time. Back then, adults were essentially like babies seeking to understand the world around them in the most basic ways. That’s part of the beauty and wonder of childhood – Everything is new and fascinating. If you’re not careful, you can become bored and jaded with age. Not because you know everything, but because you stop seeking new information, so you start thinking you do. It can happen not just on the individual level, but also on the cultural level. Is our culture so mature, so know-it-all that we’re bored with ourselves?
Children have a very effective way of marking time for us. With adults, we might see a change in a picture from ten years ago, but it’s subtle. With children it’s dramatic. Ten years is a lifetime. From infant to 5th grade graduation, from pre-school to high school, from high school to adult. Ten years in the life of a child is monumental.
Ten years in the life of an adult, although more subtle, can also be profound. The “me” that existed in this world at 30 and 40 is very different from the “me” now.
As we approach the dawn of a new decade, I encourage you to take some time to imagine how you want to change in the next ten years.
Who do you want to be when 2030 rolls around?
Will you be more patient or more compassionate?
Will you be more courageous or more vocal?
Will you break out of a self-made shell or someone else’s chrysalis?
Will you stand up for what you believe in even when it’s inconvenient?
And when you flesh out some of your goals, ask yourself:
Do you have a support team in place to foster your growth?
Do you have a daily routine that nurtures you and your aspirations?
Life can become small without intention, goals and dreams. Fill up the space that you’re in with the fullness of YOU. There is no competition. Nobody else can fulfill your purpose but YOU.
I wish you all Freedom, Alignment and Effortless Abundance!
P.S. The photo is of a holiday ornament that I created at The Kenekt Holiday Market. My crafting skills aren’t very good, but I loved the photo of the women in their church hats. To me it breathed wisdom. I’m working on a few offerings to celebrate the dawn of 2020. I’m hosting the “Courage to Dream” series at Tassili’s on Thursday evenings in January. This series is designed to help you identify your path for the upcoming decade. I’m also working on an electronic vision-boarding event and special pricing for self-actualization coaching. Keep an eye on honeybutterflyz.com and social media for details.