We are nearing the end of January and that means that a lot of good intentions, a lot of good resolutions are being cast aside as undone, unstarted, impractical. All manner of good reason for why we can’t or didn’t or maybe picked the wrong thing (or too many things) to work on. If I’m being really honest I have to say I’m not a big fan of resolutions at the new year. At least in the northern hemisphere they come at the darkest time of the year, we are in a quieting of the body and the earth, what should be a time of rest and restoration. And they come for us in a time that perhaps should be joyful but for too many is the rush of obligation, over-extended family needs, indulgence. Not the best time to be reflective, more of a time that lends itself to reactivity, which is never the best place to be operating from.

All to say I don’t set intentions at the new year, or at the winter solstice. I rest during these times. I do the little things that work, I consider what needs some attention, and then I get quiet about waiting to see what I have the energy for, what might be calling me. Yes of course there are times when you just need to get up and get going, you just need to start. But even before that start you have to know what it is that you want, where it is that you want to go, and that knowing comes from listening to the deep-self, which I think requires some quiet.

In the last year or so I have started trying to move more with the natural flow of the seasons in how I set intentions. As a practice it feels like I’m better attuned to the energy of the planet, it is a good reminder of seasons (especially if you live in a place like I do where the shift can be very subtle) as a symbol for change and impermanence, it let’s me get through the hard things in more reasonable chunks, and spend more time in gratitude the sun is metaphorically shining. I had a boss a couple of jobs ago who wisely said to me when I was struggling with something, ‘seasons come and go, you just have to see the little change everyday.’ My snarky retort was that ‘in California perfect felt relentless.’ He lived in the mid-west. But he was right and I needed that reminder. In a world of always light, and anything you want whenever you want it being intentional about moving with the earth can be a relief.

So I started to pay attention to the shifts. I put the sun rise and set on my watch and looked everyday at how that changed. In the darkening times I let myself be in that regenerative rest psychically, in the emerging growth I looked to what and how I wanted to grow in the coming season. In the autumn I look back on what I have accomplished, what needs to be stored, what shared, what discarded. Through al of this, to have the time of attention I sit in meditation and prayer each morning (mostly each morning). I read something, often the daily meditation from the Center for Action and Contemplation, sometimes a section of a book, I write a little. When I started the practice it was hard, there was always an email to check or a chore to do, or five more minutes of sleep. But the more I did it the more I looked forward to it, the more I didn’t just have to but I wanted to. And somewhere along the way Pepper the cat decided to join me.

When we talk about habit formation or change management we often hear about the value of having an ‘accountability partner.’ That person or group to whom you have to account for what you are doing, how it’s going because we are a lot better at being accountable when we have to tell someone else what we have done, rather than just being responsive to ourselves. And our partners are often a whole lot more supportive of the challenge than we are of ourselves. When I started my morning practice I was taking a class that encouraged the work, but we only met once a month and I did it in fits and starts. But everyday Pepper was there. First she would just show up when I sat down and put my meditation background music on, but then she would come into my office as soon as I walked in each morning. Then at some point she started calling to me from the office, the little mews getting louder if I didn’t show up as expected. Now she comes and looks for me if I’m late. I get loud mewing and head-bumps on my leg until I go and sit. She settles in, we pray, we sit in quiet, we write. Then I go about my day and she curls up to nap. It’s a routine and a reminder.

Someone said the greatest zen master they ever met was a cat. It may be true. Resolutions, intentions, habit building – it’s all hard to do. We often get in our own way, make excuses for why we can’t, or speak poorly to ourselves about our ability. Whether you make resolutions at the new year, at an equinox or solstice, or just each day when you get up I encourage you to find someone or something to which you can be accountable outside yourself. It makes it easier, especially if you have someone who will be honest with you about how hard it is and how quickly we mess up. And then encourages you to start again.

If I miss a day, or am away from the house Pepper doesn’t give up on me. We pick up where we were when I get home. Everyday is a day to start, or to start again.

If you would like to join me in habit building and creative exploration join me for a year long journey through the Artist’s Way. I have small groups forming now. Send me a note from the contact form and find some support for what you are building.