I often want things to go my way. Like almost always. After all, I have a bit of life experience to drawn on. I often seem to think that I can predict the future based on this experience. It turns out sometimes I can’t.
Like almost always.
It’s true that my life experience gives me a kind of edge in the wisdom department. I draw on this well daily, hourly. I like to stir that up with a little intuition and a gift for good guesses. Sometimes that’s useful…lots of the time. My inner team calls that the Life Lessons Department. Its mission is to learn from mistakes and try again.
To lean into the growth that some modicum of maturity has brought and to trust what I have come to know from experience.
But.
I can also get absolutely convinced that I know more than I do. And I do mean absolutely. When I’m under stress, when it’s the holidays, when those two things collide. When my Inner Dictator takes over.
Then I seem to believe that I have two choices: to give up (and give up many things I value). Or to become….
The Queen of the Universe. (Imagine a menacing chord here…)
This transformation turns a relatively mature, wise person into the
One Who is Responsible for Her Kingdom and All Kingdoms Beyond, to the far sea.
Just a bit of a burden, but hey. That’s what Queens are for.
How does that play out over the holidays? Years ago, when my children were little, there was this tiny little meltdown on Christmas Eve. You can read about it here: My Not So Silent Night. Ever since that, I begin the season with a pause to remember. Otherwise the Queen has her way. When this happens, it’s far from a peaceful holiday, inside myself and for those I love. These two seem a tad bit interlinked.
I’ll be sharing insights and tips in my next blog. In the meantime, invite the Queen to tea.
Let her be a Queen of Kindness. To you. May she rule your inner kingdom with a jeweled scepter. May she command herself (that would be you) to take time every day to honor Her Highness with a yoga class, a nap, a cup of tea with a dear friend. Sing. Restore herself with the quiet of the dark, the slumber of the deep.
May she be a Queen of Peace.
