Word for the Year (v.3)

It’s a practice I began three years ago, this notion of a Word for the Year. I am a wanderer, you see, a bloom-to-bloom grazer well served by any semblance of a centering focus. So when writer Winn Collier introduced the concept of a Word for the Year via his mighty blog, I jumped on the bandwagon, beginning my watch for a 2012 word. In due course it arrived, settled in, and I stood back in awe as the universe rearranged, intent on delivering just what my new word promised, just what I needed in my life at that time and in the 11 months that were to follow.

Last January, it happened again, this grand arrival of a 2013 word, a word that brought focus to my days and months and year.

(So you can see why this Word business is very serious to me.)

Late last month, my radar up, a potential 2014 word appeared in my life. It stood tall and strong, a word so insistent it hardly required considering. It was just suddenly there, unmoving, a deal done. But then the strangest thing happened. Another word floated in, lighter than air, and landed right on its shoulder. This new word sparkled a bit (catching my eye), then lifted off with such ease and nonchalance I found my heart lighter, my spirits lifted.

The next day, there it was again, this word, floating around the edges of my consciousness. It hung there a while, happy and complete, so unself-conscious in itself I found myself a bit mesmerized. It winked, then I watched as the big bold already-in-residence word dissolved before my very eyes, replaced by light and joy and the magnificence of my I Now Declare It word for 2014:

ha!

ha!

ha!

ha!

ha!

My Word for 2014: laugh

(I think it’s going to be a very good year!)

Word.

It made its way into my life last January—arriving rather late, I’d say, all things considered.

And then there’s the fact it sauntered in, this concept, in no big rush. Just an idea, a comment, really, passing through.

And still.

Hello, I said, I like you.

And so the idea hung around, waiting, patiently waiting while I got used to it, this notion of a Word for the Year. And I committed, beginning the hunt for just the right one. I tried on one, two, three. But something didn’t feel quite right, this hard work of searching out just the right word. And so I stepped back, like the idea itself, watching and waiting.

Sure enough (just as Miska had said*), in time, my Word arrived.

~~~~~~~~~

I am a believer, have I told you that? Twelve months later, I know for sure that having a Word for the Year—a centering force for my life—changed everything.

~~~~~~~~~

What now? What about 2013? I’ve been watching and waiting, trying not to grow impatient as the year’s first month clicks by. Words have come, I must tell you, very fine words that just weren’t mine, words for a different time.

And then it happened. My word, hidden there amid eloquence, peeking from behind grand ceremony, a mere commoner.

~~~~~~~~

One Today, said the poet.

We are made for this moment, said the President.

For such a time as this, said Mordecai.

~~~~~~~~

My Word.

2013

 

From Winn Collier’s blog, Dirtying Paper, Scratching for Beauty:

For a while, Miska’s had these annual encounters where a word arrives, vivid and undeniable. And continuing: This year, I love Miska’s word. A future year, I could imagine it being mine. But it’s not – and that’s the crucial revelation. You can’t snag another person’s word. You can’t even snag another person’s conviction that you need to have a word …You have to find your own —find your own way, find your own self.

 

 

 

 

5) Word for the Year

It’s not so surprising, actually, the fact that I’ve decided to have a Word for the Year. It’s just the kind of thing that appeals to me—a focus for my life, a magnetic field, a centering force when I start to drift (and inevitably I will) toward those sparkly edges. I suffer greatly from the Anything Is Possible So Let’s Not Decide Just Yet Syndrome, which means to accomplish anything, I require some serious structure.

This is such a significant truth in my life that I find myself creating rules for the tiniest of tasks. You can listen to this song on your iPod, but only while running on this treadmill. Keep the little bottles of hotel bathroom lotion if you want, but they need to fit in this ziplock bag. Buy that expensive yarn! Just don’t start another project—not even a sample row or two just to see how it knits up—until you finish the socks you were so excited about three months ago. Yes, some life parameters are a very good thing for me.

So the idea of a Word for the Year spoke to my heart the moment I read about it on Winn Collier’s blog a few days ago. He wrote:

For a while, Miska’s had these annual encounters where a word arrives, vivid and undeniable. And continuing: This year, I love Miska’s word. A future year, I could imagine it being mine. But it’s not – and that’s the crucial revelation. You can’t snag another person’s word. You can’t even snag another person’s conviction that you need to have a word …You have to find your own —find your own way, find your own self.

How I love that thought. And having designated January as a month for Do-overs, Rethinks, and What-ifs, if ever a word were going to find me and take root, surely, the time was now. And so I decided to keep watch.

My word arrived unexpectedly, announcing itself to me as I sat in church last Sunday. Some other candidates had already come and gone—flirtatious, appealing, pausing long enough to be considered, but then casually drifting past.

Not this word. It announced itself boldly, pulling up a chair and having a seat right there, undeniably taking up residence.

We stood to sing the Psalm, and my word hung on. Second reading. Prayer. Anthem. (“I’m still he-re!”) And then Dr. Bragan walked to the pulpit and began to preach one of those sermons that seems preached right at you, this one doubly alarming in its gentleness.

Silence, he said.

Find time for quiet.

I sat with my word, unflinching. Face to face, eye to eye.

A still small voice, he said. Make room.

Okay. Chills.

And then he said, and I swear it:

He has a word for you.

Just listen.

And so I smiled, accepting my word. Welcoming it, really, into my busy life. And then I set about thinking of SPACE—physical, emotional, spiritual—and why that need has planted itself so firmly in my soul.

I don’t know the answer yet. I just know it is here to stay.

I'd like you to meet my word.

 

 

 

 

Has a word found you? If so, I’d love to hear your story. Just leave a comment below or send me an email. Perhaps we’ll start a support group for people and their words.