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Dear Ones, I never claimed a word for 2023. I was so consumed with grief at my experience of loss, that if you’d asked me, I probably would have muttered something like “survive”. Reflecting on the year now, however, I’d say I most tried to consciously move within a heavy rotation of patience, acceptance, and peace. I also raged against each of these. Like…raged. Refused to believe them possible, or even “right” and “fair”, at times. But ultimately, they were the words (and energies) I needed most. 2023 ended up being the year I let go of fighting for anything that did not treat me well; of those who did not want to be fought for. I wish I could say I came to that decision from a space of higher patience, acceptance, and peace, but the reality is that the choice was more thrust upon me than carefully chosen. The discovery of one last humiliating betrayal will do that to a woman. When someone goes too far, and is too far gone, you know? While I do not respect those who hurt me, I now respect their right to love or not love me. I respect that we all have that choice in general, and when someone chooses to change course on love, it often has little, if anything, to do with anyone but themselves. I respect my right to love my own life, and being, too. I respect my kids right to have healthy, loving relationships; to not be denied the dignity of their own processes, while walking with them, hand in hand, through hard changes and necessary boundaries. I respect my right as both an autonomous woman and their mother to make choices that reflect all of this. Because with a steady practice of patience, acceptance and peace, unexpected new gifts are not just a possibility, but a guarantee. ———————————————-- This year, I easily chose a word. Wonder. Wonder like the longing with which Grayson looks at a puddle, when he’s not wearing his rain boots. How Saylor will exclaim “mom, quick quick, beauty emergency!!” when she spots our neighborhood fox doing his yoga-esque stretches, or a group of fluffy white wishers blowing in the wind, or a vibrant cardinal snacking at our backyard feeder. Seeing Ivy, eyes closed, lifting her chin to sniff the breeze, while bathing herself in a patch of sunlight on our deck, each tiny black hair on her snout shimmering with invitation to be stroked. Wonder when finding bits of sea glass on a quiet beach stroll, watching the tiny, quick footed sandpipers scuttling along the shoreline, making the most delicate footprints in the sand until the next wave bubbles at their delightfully bitty toes. Wonder at the clean, hot water that flows with the turn of a knob from my shower, any day of the week. Wonder at the rich flavors of a warm, home cooked meal. Wonder at the artistry of music, all of the feels it draws out when I listen to old favorites, how my body moves in rhythm without much conscious thought. The sound of my son’s laugh. The kindness of my daughter’s soul. The weight of their bodies pressed against each side of me as we read books before bed, wrapped in a hand knit blanket from a cherished friend. Wonder as magical form of gratitude. “And if the whole wide world stops singing And all the stars go dark I'll keep a light on in my soul Keep a bluebird in my heart” - miranda lambert Having trouble selecting your word for the year? Let’s connect… In patience, acceptance & peace… Trish 
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