Last year, in the light of the moon peering through the towering pines behind my house, I offered myself up to Deity in a ritual I have done every year since 1980. I pledged myself then, and renew that vow in recognition of Their regard of, and for, me.
In my spiritual tradition, this is a day (and night) to honor our beloved ancestors. We take time to pause and look at all those who came before us, paving the way and providing the skills and assistance we used to get to where we are. For me, I talk to my ancestors and tell them about the year, listening for their advice, and waiting for them in my dreams. This ritual is a chance to take stock and honor the work done over the previous year, admire the crops we planted and harvested, the dreams carefully nurtured and growing into new realities, and the people all around us, past and present, who are a part of that journey.
Just over 25 years ago I fled a dangerous relationship for the safety of a friend’s unused abode just outside Seattle. Doing so required radical trust that I would be OK, and it turned out to be one of the best decisions I have ever made for myself. Because I took that chance I found the people I call friends, and the man I call husband. Those people are such that I have never been without someone to turn to for advice, comfort, and laughter in the many vagaries life brought me. I made homes that brought joy and laughter in untold quantities, and grew into a very different person than I ever expected to become.
Last year, because of all who came before me, and those who stand with me, I stood on the precipice of a new journey into the unknown, one that has many links to the one before. It has not been easy, nor smooth. Things expected were not always realized, but joyful pleasures unlooked for came into being all along.
A new year dawns, and I say to you: leave room for something better than you can imagine to enter your life.