A Blessing in Five Parts

I wish you ease in this new year.

I wish you the kind of ease that holds worry gently and softly sings it back to sleep. I wish you an inner fire to burn off the dampness of grief so you might witness its beauty without drowning.  I wish you the kind of light from within that shifts the energy in a crowded room. I wish you crowded rooms that feel safe. I wish you good air and deep breaths that stretch from your chest to your limbs and a knowing that the breeze blows in your favor. I wish you the courage and the trust to let it take you.

. . .

I wish you loving human touch and the kind of hugs you’ve nearly forgotten. The hugs you maybe only halfway felt when they were common. The type of hug you carry with you when you go. I wish you a village and connections that linger and warmth on strangers’ faces and an assault of wild smiles on every street. I wish you direction—with a compass in your pocket guided by your own magnetism and a personal North Star that you follow without apology.  I wish you glances at the moon that far outweigh the false importance of the phone in your hand.

. . .

I wish you time in the lap of nature and quiet communion with the trees. I wish you beauty as medicine and a soft sweater as ceremony. I wish you success measured only by number of naps taken and baths drawn. I wish you joy mingled with melancholy as flavors that balance being human. I wish you sacred rage that moves mountains and tears that soften the hard places in your body. I wish you company of wise elders who live deeply in the range and the brevity of it all. I wish you awareness of what is yours to carry and what you can at last put down—and I wish the energy to do what you know needs to be done.

. . .

And above all, I wish you love.

I wish you the knowing that you are the one—you are the mother you long for and the father you didn’t get and the sibling that has seen you through everything and the best friend that leaves soup at your door and holds your stories without judgement—you are the love of your life. And when someone asks, “Who do you love the most?” you’ll say, “Myself,” with nary a breath between thoughts and you’ll feel no shame or weight or guilt in celebrating yourself so deeply and openly.

. . .

I wish you freedom to be true to your magic at every turn—no matter the audience. I wish you the audacity to wear your uniqueness as a jewel in your crown. I wish you sovereignty over beliefs that diminish you and systems that label you. I wish you discovery in the variety of all that you are and devotion to your desires as whispers from the divine. I wish you ritual and routine to ground your journey. And at last, I wish you grateful pause as you catch your body in the mirror. I wish you belief in its preciousness and perfection and the sweet relief of knowing true love was in you all along.