It’s already February and I’m getting to a New Year’s resolution page. Actually, I don’t make official resolutions, but I do try to set intentions. Always seems a bit more feasible in the long run. I still remember my resolution from several years ago to “be more generous.” When in doubt, my motto was, give a bigger tip, help more, send one more donation, however small, to a worthy group regardless of your own financial state. The notion stays with me, and I still try, when in doubt, to give more. This year, my intention is to “let go,” and this is the beautiful piece of text by Rev. Saffire Rose that I’m trying to let direct me:
She Let Go
She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go.
She let go of fear. She let go of the judgments.
She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head.
She let go of the committee of indecision within her.
She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons. Wholly and completely,
without hesitation or worry, she just let go.
She didn’t ask anyone for advice. She didn’t read a
book on how to let go… She didn’t search the scriptures.
She just let go.
She let go of all of the memories that held her back.
She let go of all of the anxiety that kept her from moving forward.
She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.
She didn’t promise to let go.
She didn’t journal about it.
She didn’t write the projected date in her day-timer.
She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper.
She didn’t check the weather report or read her daily horoscope.
She just let go.
She didn’t analyze whether she should let go.
She didn’t call her friends to discuss the matter.
She didn’t do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment.
She didn’t call the prayer line.
She didn’t utter one word. She just let go.
No one was around when it happened.
There was no applause or congratulations.
No one thanked her or praised her.
No one noticed a thing.
Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.
There was no effort. There was no struggle.
It wasn’t good and it wasn’t bad.
It was what it was, and it is just that.
In the space of letting go, she let it all be.
A small smile came over her face.
A light breeze blew through her.
And the sun and the moon shone forevermore.
My own letting go isn’t about anything in particular. Rather, it’s about everything. Letting go of fear is high on the list, including anxiety about health, work, financial security (and the lack thereof), the safety of my child, that state of the world, and whether or not I’m trying hard enough to become vegetarian. I’d love to let go of it all. I want to let go of all the shoulds that tell me to live a more stable, traditional life, and all the outside messages that tell us working and saving for retirement or for some impending health crisis is what life is really for. A sub-heading to this year’s intention of letting go is also to “embrace more”. Embrace risk, embrace life and adventure. Embrace love and choose joy. Embrace the notion that education comes in so many different forms, no one necessarily more valuable than the next. Embrace the unknown. But I know that taking on too much too soon isn’t always workable, and starting small and determined is often a good path towards success. So I let go and welcome the year of the Wooden Horse.
This from astrologer and tarot reader Susan Levitt (susan@susanlevitt.com): The Wood Horse year is a time of fast victories, unexpected adventure, and surprising romance. It is an excellent year for travel, and the more far away and off the beaten path the better. Energy is high and production is rewarded. Decisive action, not procrastination, brings victory. But you have to act fast in a Horse year. If you are not 100% secure about a decision, then don’t do it. Events move so quickly in a Horse year that you don’t want to gallop off in the wrong direction.
Happy Year of the Wooden Horse to one and all!
Adventuring A to Z 
From TIGER: I miss you too! I'm trying to embrace change but I still feel insecure at times. The travel bug bit me too — last week I was in Colorado and next week it'll be Arizona. And I've had a chance to gallop off with horses! Seems like wherever I go, I always return to The Commons. That feels safe.
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