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December 28, 2014 § 9 Comments
The word itself is childish in its implied excess; greedy and passionate, clumsy and jubilant. The sound rolls against my tongue, my lips rounding with delight as the thought curls into a promise of possibility teasing my attention.
My natural tendencies are inclined toward less. I am most comfortable in minimal surroundings, content on a quieter path. Even my habits are unexceptionally unburdensome; my intimacies few, my possessions unextraordinary, my commitments few.
It is strange how chance wedges a suggestion into the unexpected until our thoughts lend roots that we might blossom into action. In my effort to choose a word for the year to come, a word has, perhaps, chosen me.
Just as I might number resolutions for self-improvement into a promise, in naming the year I first seek areas of growth and sources of inspiration in search of a theme that will tether me to conscious intention. Some of my goals are familiar in their failed fruition, others fleeting in their entrancement.
This morning I gathered a list of words, pages of suggestions printed in tidy, unassuming rows that I then read aloud; sounding out each word for resonance. In years past I might stike a line against those words that fell flat against my ears, circling those that kindled a spark within the recesses of my emotions. This year, my pen began scratching tiny addition symbols in the empty margin between rows as certain words begged my attention. Rather than whittling my list to a singular intention, my choices multiplied into a wish for more:
Balance, grace, intention, listening, ownership, play.
One of these words alone would bear a cumbersome responsibility to sustain across the span of a year. Too many words might tempt a fractured attention with broken results. Instead I am considering threading words and days with a message of more; assigning direction to seasons and inviting unanticipated opportunities for more without sacrificing an appreciation for less.
I am certain only of the spark behind the quick sketch in the margin of my words.
scribblechic 
correct – you said right and to the point!
Time will tell if I am correct, but I am content to explore my uncertainties and follow my intuition.
I have to admit just by reading over your blogs, I am inspired!
Funny—every now and then what I see, encounter or read changes the background music; the soundtrack that seems to follow me around. Reading your thoughtful piece (which resonated with my own thoughts) shifted the music to this song. I think you’ll see the connection… https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9P4zi8ljf8A&list=PL9MmI3A21MiQcd7Dsbi0rmp1IV5kE3juQ
I love the connection, Maurice. The song and video were new to me, thank you.
Aside from the gorgeous visuals and purity of the message, I found one line resonating above the others; a gentle reminder to “get out of my own way.”
I love your idea of naming the year. Reading the beginning lines, I thought, “I need less.” Then, just as the word for my year occurred to me, I read, “fruition.” My year needs fruition. Too many things did not come to fruition last year. I can focus on trimming to less and fewer from my life, so that what is important can come to fruition. Thank you.
I love the marriage of less and fruition for the New Year. The concept of One Little Word belongs to another and you may read more here:
http://aliedwards.com/2014/12/one-little-word-2015
I have participated in Ali Edwards program once and found the monthly creative prompts a great resource for staying mindful of your word throughout the year. Note, the participation fee is discounted if you register before December 31. Additionally, the facebook group lends community and encouragement without pressure to compare.
Happy New Year!
[…] all my many blessings and joy, there was room for more. A word I previously chose to name the […]
[…] I sift through words that conjure strength or boast conviction, challenge play or validate care; words that elude me and those that name my hopes or weaknesses. It is an intimate exercise in honesty, a tender searching for a resolution of will. One I am still doodling playfully into the margins of these last lingering days of a year rich with more. […]