Introducing.... My Word of Intention 2014

"If I have the belief that I can do it, I shall surely acquire the capacity to do it even if I may not have the capacity at the beginning."

 {Mahatma Ghandi}

I've been thinking about my word for this year for probably six weeks, and it's been one of the main things on my mind recently. To be honest, where RECLAIM arrived whole and perfect last year, this year's word plagued me. Starting about last summer a word had fluttered into my life and landed... and that word, OVERCOME, was one that almost became my word this year. But I just wasn't quite certain. Another word almost made it: CLIMB. A word that would represent the daily journey of struggling, effort, perseverance, and the beauty waiting when we don't give up. 

But it wasn't as pretty a word as I wanted. And though it represented, for me personally, an intangible mental process I take on every day, I knew that by itself, it wasn't as self-explanatory as I might want.

"As is our confidence, so is our capacity." {William Hazlitt}

And then yesterday, when I was still engaged in the wrestling process of words, this word came to me...

CAPACITY

"Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will." {Mahatma Ghandi}

CAPACITY excited me, inspired me, and empowered me, and it did so on a day I am struggling with bronchitis/pneumonia. That was a litmus test for me -- as physical struggle is a regular part of my life, I need a word that will push and carry and comfort me on the bad days as well as the days that I feel I am capable on my own.

CAPACITY. To sum it up in five words, to me it means "I have what it takes."

It represents the infinite ability within us all -- to love, to be loved, to imagine and create, to build and invent, to grow, change, achieve, and yes, OVERCOME obstacles.

In the daily climb, CAPACITY is the mental fortitude to press on when legs throb. It is mind over matter. It is being Brave Enough. It is Doing it Anyway.

"The ultimate creative capacity of the brain may be, for all practical purposes, infinite." {George Leonard}

But I also needed a word that could mean finite. That wouldn't feel bossy when I needed the ability to be gracious with myself. When I need to rest more than press on. 

CAPACITY: maxed out. 

In these instances, CAPACITY will serve to remind me that while I may not have the physical capacity today, I will have it another day. 

I'm excited to see what CAPACITY and I can do together this year. Some of the specific things I want to be intentional about this year are using my words more. I didn't read or write much at all in 2013, and as a writer who was first a voracious reader, that doesn't speak well to me being my best self, on a soul level. I want to use my words to inspire and encourage people. I want my words to elevate and uplift, not to harm.

I see the capacity in YOU and I hope you let your potential take you places this year!

"You are beautiful. Your beauty, just like your capacity for life, happiness, and success, is immeasurable." {Steve Maraboli}

What is YOUR word this year?

A Summer of Overcoming

I winged my way through an astonishing summer. Partly due to an effective treatment plan, partly due to my proverbial wings {essentially: pure courage}, and partly due to necessity. I was as close to thriving as I've been in years, but still, summer was a blur of activity and "too much" for this reflective, home-based creative with chronic pain.

It was a summer I'll cherish the memory of because it was packed and fast-paced, and I did it well. I'm still trying to process 1.) what all happened this summer, and 2.) how exactly I managed it.

I took my girls on day trips by myself -- days I drove and was away from home for many hours. I haven't been able to do that in a long time.

I hiked in the forest, and walked in my neighborhood, and experienced the zoo many times.

I did a road trip.

I navigated driving in places I haven't been before.

I took my kids to a lot of places and have the pictures to prove it.

I reclaimed, rose above, and overcame.

It was good. So good.

And I did hard things. Like saying goodbye to sweet auntie who died of terminal cancer in July. Like supporting a friend who said hello and goodbye to her baby girl in the space of an hour. Like things that were stressful and felt nearly impossible.

But it's mid-September now and I've gotta say:

I'm exhausted.

These exuberant "overcomer" wings are feeling ripped and rumpled. While I cherish the memories of reclaiming my independence this summer, hiking, trips, and an astounding amount of activity; while I look back on that with satisfaction, gratification, and astonishment, I'm desperately in need of rest now.

Whether it's due to seasonal changes (summer morphing into fall), or having overdone it on a pretty big scale, I am battling exhaustion, headaches, nausea, limping, morning stiffness, and the symptom that puts the fear in me faster than any other -- waking with a spine that feels shattered.

I desire nothing more right now than to hibernate for a couple months. To settle back into my cozy nest, snuggle my family, put my feet up, hang up my wings, and recover.

Back to our little cottage. Back to dance classes and learning at home. Back to {hopefully} writing and blogging more.

As it says in the Bible, there are seasons for things. Summer was an overcoming season. I'm hoping fall can be a recovering/rejuvenating season.

What kind of season are you in? How was your summer? Did you do brave things? Did you make great memories? I'd love to hear about it.

My Word for the New Year {2013}

There's a lot of me that has been altered through the past few years; taken or temporarily taken over by chronic illness and bouts of severe, unrelenting pain. It snatches bits of sanity, social life, creativity, inspiration, it takes the dreams, the goals, the best parts of self, even as I've fought to retain them.

This last fall I changed my treatment plan, and began feeling significantly better just over a month ago. 2012 closed with me feeling alternately battered and vibrant. Battered by much of what happened in 2012, and vibrant because the relief leaves me breathless, weightless, floating... so much weight off my shoulders.

I've chosen a Word of the Year for the past three years. In 2010 I chose NEST to remind myself of my priority of building a sacred, safe, nurturing shelter for my young daughters and our family. In 2011, fighting Ankylosing Spondylitis in earnest, I chose STILL to remind myself to be still and know that God had a plan, to be still and rest, that no matter what happened in my future, I was still God's and I still had purpose. In 2012, yearning to not let life pass me by regardless of a life with chronic illness, I chose AWAKE. I wanted to focus on staying awake to life, to dreams, to opportunities, and to the everyday moments of grace and joy. 

Awake was a word of mixed results. I gave it a valiant effort -- I traveled cross-country with my family for 2.5 weeks, I attended a writing conference, I joined a writing critique group, I focused on my book, I enrolled my girls in ballet class, and saw a passion for dance awaken in Hannah.

There were also times that Awake seemed a bad joke. Severe fatigue and pain dragging me under water, at times making it impossible to join in to life. The last few months of 2012 were particularly difficult and grueling. But as the saying goes, the darkest was just before dawn, and less than a week after Thanksgiving I began to awake once more: ideas, more energy, less pain, more smiles and more laughter, and simply feeling more like myself again.

I'm still battling AS, but it's not as big of a foe right now. So I'm going into 2013 inspired to RECLAIM the me that chronic challenges threatened.

I want to Reclaim parts of myself that were put on the back burner while so very ill. I want to write, I want to reclaim stability in our home, reclaim the dreams and the goals, reclaim ability vs. disability, reclaim so very many things.

I know that I may continue to improve, or that my pain may climb back up the scale along with my fatigue. If that happens, I will fight again, and I will give myself the gift of grace and understanding, knowing that I have always done my best, no matter the degree of difficulty.

I want to claim space for myself, and claim physical space for writing in our home. I did that today, creating a little corner of my own with a rolltop desk and my writing supplies. I organized my art supplies and put stacks of notecards in the cubbies of the desk.

I am reclaiming the precious relationships I have with my daughters, now that I once again have the ability to be emotionally present in our conversations and one-on-one time, not sequestered away from them by the barrier of pain I couldn't ignore.

I feel inspired and intentional going into this new year. It will be my mission to reclaim my identity apart from chronic illness. 

Reclaim: to rescue from an undesirable state; to restore to a precious natural state.