You are what your deepest desire is. As is your desire, so is your intention. As is your intention, so is your will. As is your will, so is your deed. As is your deed, so is your destiny.

Upanishads

About a year ago, we bought our house. It was my first house purchase. It’s an absolute new beginning. My name is on a deed for the first time in my life. Desire. Intention. Will. Deed. Destiny. I call this thought progression a circle of desire. I have had a vision board with a house as a central feature for many years. Buying the house was a full circle of desire moment. It seems timely to think about a circle of desire on the new moon — when we claim our desire and continue toward our destiny.

The new moon is about beginnings. Beginnings are powerful things. I have been clearing, cleaning, choosing, discerning, chiseling, sculpting, building, and burning my entire life. I have always tapped into my circle of desire when I think about it. Sometimes, the strength of my connection to desire is like a faint radio signal in the desert. Other times, the signal is loud and clear. 

On this new moon, I have taken a little time to get in touch with desire. I have reached out to organizations that I desire to connect with. I have continued journaling, walking, and yoga. I even took a virtual course on the new moon. All of this is in an effort on my continual journey to clear the noise and live with intention. 

If we are our deepest desires, and our deepest desires are our destiny, then beginning to understand desire — and its relationship to service and love — is a big deal. There is no better time to start that journey of understanding — to intentionally live the circle of desire — than the new moon. 

What I Learned This Week

On the Importance of Apology and Forgiveness

I have been thinking about the relationship between apology and forgiveness and what it has to do with letting go. Let me explain. Neither an apology nor forgiveness can be demanded. Neither an apology nor forgiveness is a one-way, transactional street with a permanent destination. They both ebb and flow. Neither apology nor forgiveness is easily accomplished in a world of egos, competition, scarcity, and fear. They are simply sacred. They are the heart of the falling apart and coming back together. They are the foundation of relationships, the substance of healing, and the embodiment of love. We all thirst for connection when we are honest. Ultimately, apology and forgiveness are about letting go. We live in a world where letting go allows us to breathe and connect from a space. Practicing apology and forgiveness — especially when it’s hard — is the triumph (as Brené Brown points out.)

Rejection Amplified

I don’t know why I hear the voices of rejection so loudly. Rejection has a megaphone in a world where praise whispers. Am I the only person who finds it easier to hold on to the negative? The middle of the night thoughts that wake me are never people telling me how wonderful I am. Truly. They are the failure vignettes that haunt — relationships, jobs, and goals. Right now, I must engage in a conscious exercise of redirecting my thoughts toward the positive. Right now, I must stop and think moment-by-moment about impermanence, grace, abundance, and gratitude to avoid descending into a spiral of shame and fear. Right now, it takes effort to hear and see what works in my world and move toward that with fullness and ease. I know that with practice, the voices of rejection and praise will balance out. I know both are part of the whole — life is always both gain and loss, life and death. My heart will follow.

The Burning Bowl

A few years ago, I traveled to Bali for a yoga retreat. I participated in a burning bowl ceremony as part of the Balinese New Year, Nyepi. As part of the New Year, millions of people on the island were silent, we were silent, too. I used that day to write down what I wanted to let go of. I wrote about feelings of gratitude for specific people and experiences. I wrote about feelings of anger and judgment. I wrote about joy and hope. I wrote about new wounds and old scars. I wrote names with no explanation. My heart was full and my stack of small, torn papers was deep. 

Late in the retreat, as one of our final acts of reflection and healing, we entered the shala, where we had practiced and circled with our papers. (All of us had prepared our thoughts our own way.) The candles’ glow and the flowers’ smell danced around the burning bowl at the center of the space. We took our papers to the fire and watched them burn in the flames. I lost myself in the intense release from watching the smoke rise. I don’t recall the exact sequence of things. Still, I remember praying over the ashes and proceeding down to the small river behind the compound, each of us carrying an offering of flowers and ashes to set free on the river.

Paying Attention

1. Both Sides Now, Joni Mitchell
2. Fast Car, Tracey Chapman
3. The World of Chinese in Ancient Chinese Poetry
4. ‘I’m happy to have this slow day’: Bali marks new year with day of silence — The Guardian
5. Shantideva Prayer