A Blessing for the New Year


So much has changed this year.

You got married.
You got divorced.
You were pregnant.
You gave birth.
You moved.
You got a job.
You lost a job.
You lost your home.
You lost your faith.
You lost a parent. A friend. A loved one.

You lost yourself. You found yourself.

Birth. Rebirth. You went through the cycle time and time again.

You heard those terrible words.
“You have cancer.”
“We don’t know what’s wrong with your child.”
“Another unarmed black man was killed.”

You also heard wonderful words.
“Welcome home.”
“I do.”
“You are not alone.”
“I love you.”

You learned new names, ones I hope you keep remembering and continue lighting a candle for.
Christine Blasey Ford
Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez
Emma Gonzalez
Jakelin Caal

I hope you remember your name.

No, not your legal one.

The one that the Divine sang over you when you were born. The one that brings you back home when you are lost. The one that reminds you who you are.

High Priest.
Dangerous Woman.

Head outside, into the wild, into your garden, to the coast or the forest. Find a stick or use your finger to draw a line on the ground. Place your feet on each side. Breathe. Still your mind, your heart and your soul.

Stand with one leg in the past and one leg in the future.
Stand with one leg in the darkness and one leg in the light.
One leg in stillness, one leg in movement.
One leg in rootedness, one leg in growth.
One leg in pain, one leg in pleasure.
One leg in death, one leg in life.

You are not either/or. You are both/and. You are contradictions, and dreams that are yet to be fulfilled. You are fluid like the water, unpredictable like the fire, firm as the earth, and refreshing like the air. You are woman who was and woman who is becoming. Full and whole, perfect just as you are.

As the past year washes away, seek forgiveness where hurt is present. Express overflowing gratitude to the people and experiences that have brought you here, to the glorious right now.

As you approach a new year, do not walk in fear. Dare to dream, even if systems and people and old wounds tell you not to. Where uncertainty and anxiety runs amok, invite courage in. Create dangerously. Love abundantly.

For those who have remained hidden this year, may you find the courage to emerge and show glimpses of the glorious you to this world that needs you.

For those who have endured physical pain, may you feel the Divine’s calming hand upon your body.

For those who are exhausted, may you show yourself excessive gentleness while you retreat and recover. May you find the flow of energy that gives and receives, a rhythm that sustains and roots you.

For those who are about to enter new, life-changing seasons, may you hold all that you love loosely. May those around you lift you to the light and remind you that you are never alone.

For those who have awakened from their slumber in the era of #MeToo and #BlackLivesMatter, welcome home, beloved. May you arm yourselves with the wisdom of the activists and peacekeepers and ancestors who have gone before you. May you be quick to listen and quicker to amplify the voices of the oppressed.

For those who feel downtrodden by systemic oppression, may you remember to open the windows and let the light in. Breathe. Rage. Lament. And remember to sit in the light. May the promise of freedom ring in your hearts, just like it did for your ancestors. May you continue to work to build the world your children deserve to live in.

For all of you SheLovelys, may you remember that you are so loved. No matter what this year holds for you, may truth and peace guide your path. May love and creativity expand your heart. May you remember that you are woman who was and woman who is becoming. Full and whole, perfect just as you are.


SheLovelys, what a year it has been. I’d love to hear: What was the most important lesson you learned last year? How are you feeling about the New Year?