This week of the year always feels like in-between time. Between holidays. Between school terms. Between years.
As I write, I’m with [some of] my family of origin (Mom, brother (with his spouse and children), plus my spouse and children). I sense that we, too, are in a between time — still learning how to be together as adults, despite us “children” being well into our 40s; adjusting to the way things are different since Dad died a year and a half ago; accepting the more mature and independent ages of our own children.
And I’m noticing my own reaction to all of it — wanting to be open to what Life offers, lest I should miss something valuable; striving not to be stuck in my preconceived notions of how things are, or how they should be; knowing that the opportunities for growth & joy & meaning & beauty are abundant, if I allow for them to touch me.
And of course these intentions are much easier to name in concept than they are to live. But I know that the intention matters. (That’s another theme at this time of year, of course.)
As we anticipate the turn of the calendar year next week, may we all cherish this in-between time. Possibility awaits.