I woke up around 5:00 am today despite getting into bed well past midnight. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t go back to sleep. My mind was clear and lucid; my senses were awake and alert.
It took five minutes of patient introspection to realize that what I felt was excitement.
I can’t remember the last time I felt excited.
It couldn’t be helped, I suppose. After all, 2014 had arrived, and for the first time in three years, a new year had come that actually felt new.
It was a new year, in short, that was two years in the making. All the anxiety, doubt, exhaustion and fear of the last two years had fused under the heat and pressure of almost daily toil and struggle to produce a diamantine moment of unadulterated peace.
In that moment of almost surreal serenity, I clearly beheld how nothing in my life had changed in the non-existent interval between the departure of 2013 and the arrival of 2014.
—there was that almost forgotten feeling of excitement, that sense that all the work and labor of the foregoing years were soon to bear their fruit, that conviction that finally (finally!) one had strength enough to surrender to an opaque and inconceivable flow.
The hard work of the last few years had prepared me to finally receive my practice:
Let this be my year of letting go.