New Year (why does it feel old?)

Today I am feeling an impending doom about the future.  I am finding it nearly impossible to energetically see through the fog of my worry, my anxiety, my concern for what's next, how to bridge the gap of here to there (and I don't even know what 'there' is).  There are so many people talking about new starts, new commitments, new years resolutions.  Some are even talking about just being present, not setting any goals, because we always fail at them anyway.  And I think we all know how hard it is to change a habit, create a new one or stop something that we know is not good for us.

Yesterday I held a beautiful, perfectly formed little baby for about two hours while she slept.  I held the purity of her being in my arms and sat with her open, simple being for the most snuggly of times.  And there's a split in me - the one that wants this world to be good for her.  The part that experiences a world for her that opens its arms to whoever she is, accepts her and allows her to find her place, to thrive and contribute in a way that her heart calls to her. And then there's the dread part, the part I'm feeling now of the messed up-ness of this place we call our home.  And the fact that if many of us don't get our act together pretty soon, the world will not be such a nice place to live - our air may not be breathable, the vegetables we eat may be contaminated, the oceans may be dead.  I'm not someone who is active in environmentalism, I don't know loads of facts and figures about the world (but am really very interested in them when I read them and hear them, and they have a huge impact on me).  But I know there's a problem.  I know things are happening that need our insight, our wisdom and our hearts fully engaged when making decisions and taking action. 

And it takes so much to act, to extend ourselves beyond our own fearful, safety oriented agenda.  And I can feel my own right now - wanting to look after myself, wanting to know where I'm going to live, how I'm going to earn money enough to have a place to live even.  And I know this is all important so that I have a platform from which to go into the world boldly with a safe patch to return to where I can do my inner work, be in my family, and then come back to the 'outer world' where there are changes to be made, things to do, ways to be and things to act on. 

Right now my thoughts are centering around things like, "I know there are some feelings that want to be felt here - just be present to the unfolding", "I hate this feeling of dread, uncertainty, worry, powerlessness", "what can I do to get rid of this feeling".  And when I get just a little bit wiser from my breath, I can see that I'm missing the sacred balm of all the human and earthly condition.  I'm forgetting myself, forgetting presence.

I haven't found that presence is the ultimate eraser of my negative experience, but what it does for me is that it enables me to really be in my experience, rather than resist it, prolong it, defend against it.  Presence is the doorway to my unfolding.  Presence is the shard of light coming through the door to the darkened room.  It allows me to remember my breath, to feel my feet, to recall a hint of the unstoppable goodness that's also here in any moment of darkness. 

After writing these last paragraphs, I see that I am, again, writing for my life (sounds a bit dramatic but it really is in service of my life that I write these things), and that writing these things down has power, meaning and mysteriously acts to hold my hand through the happenings of my inner and outer life.