Born with promise and possibility, the stresses and anxieties of the past year threatened to break us in half—but they didn’t.
By Jo Mooy
Like the beginning of a new school year, January 2023 was full of promise and potential. Many set out their hopes and dreams, putting them into shiny containers, determined that 2023 would be better than 2022. The intentions were encouraging and written down with conviction. A mini-survey of my spiritual community revealed their intentions ranged from the idealistic to the mundane, and from personal desires on better behavior or improved health, to world appeals for unity and more compassion.
My intentions were for two personal improvements. On New Year’s Day I began a ritual when I woke up. First, I asked for patience, and then I asked for detachment when witnessing situations outside my control. At the close of the ritual, I asked that whatever occurred each day would have the most benevolent outcome. For the whole year, I sought to do something well with that prayer. Having more patience would allow me to see things for what they were and understand better the lessons being taught. More importantly, I could witness my reactions and develop ease with whatever was unfolding without getting caught up in the drama.
However, letting go of personal entanglements and detaching from them was hard. Some had years of spaghetti-like chains to unravel. I found it much simpler to take a knife and cut through them instead of trying to untangle the Gordian Knot. Otherwise, I’d find myself stuck in the quagmire, disentangling the old stuff of the past, instead of getting on with other things needing to be done in the present.
Looking back over the 12 months, many of the best wishes for 2023 collapsed, dimming the shine on the glorious hopes of the intention setters. The Ukraine war didn’t end. Mahsa Amini’s death changed little in Iran. Political divisiveness exploded like it was on steroids. Even Mother Nature rebelled causing catastrophic disasters from flooding, record-breaking heat, volcanoes, earthquakes, and massive fires across the world. It felt like the world was breaking apart. Would it, or we, survive?
Perhaps this metaphor answers the question. I have a glass lotus bowl that’s filled with Siesta Key sand. It serves as an incense holder. One day there was a loud crack. I found the lotus bowl lying in two pieces with the sand and incense debris all over the coffee table. Unperturbed, I remembered the Japanese art of Kintsugi where broken items can be repaired instead of tossed out. I repaired the lotus bowl with epoxy glue that I mixed with gold metallic paint. The lotus bowl now sports a big rip through the middle but the seam is covered in gold. It survived the heat of incense, the pressure of the sand, and monthly water cleanings before it broke in half. However, once repaired, it stood stronger than before. And the golden break through the center tells a powerful story about its character and endurance.
Things are always much stronger where they’re broken. The breaks mean they’ve been tested by fires, upheavals and disappointments. Yet, have come out the other side sturdier, tougher, even mellower and more resilient than before. The year 2023 was a lot like that. Born with promise and possibility, the stresses and anxieties threatened to break us in half. But they didn’t.
Despite the troubles, the right and left politics, the environmental catastrophes, we somehow got through it. We built cocoons in our homes and through the communities. We turned to these sanctuaries to get through the year. In those havens, built with loving friends who would come with aid should it be needed, hope stayed alive. In that community, governed only by love and caring, there was always contentment and tranquility.
In that blessed place, like students completing a year of hell, we graduated from 2023. Better prepared for the next hurdles, our light stays lit. Flowers continue to bloom, birds still sing, and friends remind us they’re still there. Like graduation day, toss your caps into the sky in celebration because we made it through 2023! And like the repaired lotus bowl, we’ll be so much stronger for what was endured and overcome. With a lot of help from the community.
Jo Mooy has studied with many spiritual traditions over the past 40 years. The wide diversity of this training allows her to develop spiritual seminars and retreats that explore inspirational concepts, give purpose and guidance to students, and present esoteric teachings in an understandable manner. Along with Patricia Cockerill, she has guided the Women’s Meditation Circle since January 2006 where it has been honored for five years
in a row as the “Favorite Meditation” group in Sarasota, FL, by Natural Awakenings Magazine. Teaching and using Sound as a retreat healing practice, Jo was certified as a Sound Healer through Jonathan Goldman’s
Sound Healing Association. She writes and publishes a monthly internationally distributed e-newsletter called Spiritual Connections and is a staff writer for Spirit of Maat magazine in Sedona. For more information go to
http://www.starsoundings.com or email jomooy@gmail.com.
