Dear Lord, Creator, divine Spirit of What Is, let me take the best of me into the coming year.
I almost added, “and leave the rest behind,” but that’s probably unrealistic.
Instead, let me acknowledge that the best of myself is intertwined with the rest of myself, like vines sown among the weeds. Let me accept that my attention to detail can also make me picky and that my strong opinions about what I think is right can make me bossy and inflexible. Grant me the discernment to know when to use these natural tendencies for good and not for evil (with apologies to Maxwell Smart1).
Dear Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, Warriors, Masters of the three times, let me remember that this body I live with daily is a precious gift. When I feel pain or discomfort, I am not being punished, and my body is not betraying me but instead is trying to get my attention.
Let me remember that all things change, and change is good, even when it means this precious body of mine can no longer do things the way I am used to. Please grant me the ability to appreciate the gift of this impermanent body and learn how to best nourish and care for its ever-changing needs with grace and humility.
Dear Dralas and spirits of the Air, Land, and Water, help me remember the nourishment that comes from a hike through coastal sage scrub, a walk on the beach, or mindfully watering the plants in my backyard. Let me acknowledge my tendency to cocoon inside has its place while not forgetting the gifts of nature that spill out in abundance if I take the time to open my door and venture out.
Allow me to be touched by the indescribable beauty and diversity of this amazing world I live in, even though allowing myself to be touched opens me to grief for all that is being lost. For in being touched, I am witness; in being witness, I cannot be complacent.
Dear Ancestors, elders, predecessors, family guardian spirits, let me remember that I am not alone in this adventure of life. Let me remember that I do not have to Do It All when there is a crisis, that family and friends also care and have gifts of their own to contribute. Let me remember that relying on others is a sign of strength, not weakness, an acknowledgment of our interconnectedness.
Dear Black, Indigenous, Latina/o/e/x, Asian, Pacific Islander, mixed-race, and other non-White educators, activists, and authors, let me continue to open my eyes and ears to your life experiences, to listen when you speak. Please let me understand that when you describe something that does not match my experience, that is precisely why I need to hear it.
Grant me the discernment to appreciate without appropriating, the courage to be an ally, and the wisdom to know when my voice needs to take a back seat, working instead to amplify your voices.2
Dear political patron saints John and Abigail Adams, in this election year, let me balance advocacy for causes and candidates I believe in with curiosity towards the values of those who vote differently. Give me the grace to acknowledge my neighbors, friends, and family who vote differently probably want the same things I do but see things in a different way.
Let me practice getting comfortable with being uncomfortable when my political beliefs are challenged, to see these challenges as a gift to hone my thinking. Let me value nuance and complexity in the public sphere in a world that prioritizes simple answers.
Dear Woolf, Baldwin, Montaigne, Didion, Austen, Oliver, Angelou, and all the literary talents of days gone by, let me be inspired by your example without being paralyzed by setting myself next to you. Allow me to remember that comparison is the thief of joy, and the true joy of creating comes from authentically contributing my best to any endeavor, then letting it go.
And speaking of letting go …
To all the Spiritual guides in my life, both past and present, living, passed away, or from antiquity, help me practice letting go with joy instead of fear this year. Let me practice relaxing into unknowingness as an essential ingredient of life instead of railing against it as a personal injury.
Let me not curse myself for praying for this when life offers me opportunities to open my hands in release instead of grasping and holding on.
Lastly, remind me that being my own hero means kindness — the most courageous practice — is always an option.
Amen
What would your prayer for the coming year include? I’d love to hear your additions. All respectful discussion is welcome.
Books in the graphic are How the Word Is Passed: A Reckoning with the History of Slavery Across America, by Clint Smith, 1919, by Eve Ewing — a book of poems inspired by the Chicago Race Riot of 1919, and I’m Not Broken, by Jesse Leon — a memoir of resilience and survival by a gay Latino San Diego author and survivor of sex trafficking. All books are linked through my Bookshop.org storefront and earn an affiliate commission. In 2024, this commission will continue to be donated to the Strong Hearted Native Women’s Coalition in San Diego County.
Amen:) Thank you!
Beautifully said!!