My Word for 2016: Soar.
I like to choose a word or phrase to guide my thoughts throughout a given year. It’s a way to identify the overarching theme that will carry me through all that will surely arise in the next epic jaunt around the Sun.
For 2016, I’m choosing the word “soar.” It burst onto my radar midway through 2015 when a dear friend gifted me a bracelet with that word engraved on it. I thought it was a beautiful sentiment, and the more I thought about it, the more I liked it.
Many, but not all, birds soar over valleys, canyons and anywhere else warm thermals and air pockets form in response to the microclimate around them. These birds fly into these pockets and then ride the wind, gliding effortlessly along an invisible and ever-changing corridor seemingly made just for them.
As I thought about my life, I realized more and more that I wanted to soar. I wanted to stop “flapping” all the time, constantly trying to get higher and higher, afraid that at anytime if I stopped, even for one minute I would plummet back to the Earth. So I decided that this would be precisely the thing I would focus on in the coming year. I want to soar: I want to learn to trust the wind around me to carry me to where I need to be. I want to soar: spending time taking in my surroundings without the constant need to be doing something. I want to soar: to be ok with life outside of what I can see, control and comprehend.
Soaring is a beautiful, peaceful thing to behold, but it is not completely without cost. One cannot soar on the ground, and really, not even close to it. One must fly off a cliff, or out over a valley, alone, seeking the particular air stream that is right for them. Flocks don’t soar together. Each individual must find their space and then tune into it to maintain their altitude. Many birds may find the same valley, but they each ride their own gust. There is a dynamic focus, a constant fine-tuning, a synergy between acting and being acted upon that creates this most beautiful activity.
This is how I want my year to look. I’ve worked hard, I’ve flapped and flapped to get to where I am now (and let’s be clear this is by no means the pinnacle). I will continue to do what is necessary to maintain and advance those ideas and actions in which I deeply believe. BUT I will also take time to trust the wind. To believe that I will not immediately nose-dive if I stop flapping. That I’ve cast myself out over what appears to be thin air and found a patch on which I can soar and be okay with the not-knowing. To allow myself be sensitive to the small changes in trajectory, height and speed, all the while trusting that something bigger than me will carry me and that I will be responsive to that call.
Most importantly, perhaps, is the change in perspective soaring has the power to bring to one’s life. Flapping is very important. We have to work hard to get to where we want to go. My mother’s favorite saying is “hard work is its own reward”, and I believe it to be true. There is value in the effort, value to putting in work. Yet, when you’ve put in that work and it starts to payoff, there’s equal value to taking in the fruits of that labor. Not resting on your laurels — because soaring is an active practice — but allowing stillness and focus to make clear the landscape below and around you as you go. Often, in that stillness is insight. A sense of understanding, a revelation and that can often propel you into the next level of action and flapping. Those moments of clarity, in a constantly evolving environment, are sacred and personal. Birds don’t soar perpetually; sometimes they are flapping, sometimes they course-correct, sometimes they land, yet soaring is a critical part of the process of flight and survival for them. It it for us too, I think.
I’m writing this as a reminder to my mid-July self (and you), that you are enough. That you can trust the wind. That is isn’t all up to you. That you need to reflect on your surroundings while you’re in them. That you have paid your dues and will pay many more, but when you feel that wind come up under your wings, you can stop flapping so feverishly. You can take it in. You can enjoy the ride. Soaring is a part of the journey and I intend to take in the sights.
What is your word for the year? Is there a bit of soaring you can do in your life? Do you have some flapping to get to the level so that you can soar? Just know that I’m right there with you, not riding the same patch of wind, but endeavoring to soar in my own life nonetheless. So in 2016, my goal is to soar. Simple as that.
