Reflecting back on the year

  23rd December 2019

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At the end of the year, it can be really helpful to reflect back over the previous year. Not judging ourselves but noticing our moods and movements. How were the deeper currents in us flowing, below the often busy surface? What was especially life giving? An activity? A relationship? A place? And what felt more life draining? Where do we sense the invitation for the coming year? And what might we want to leave behind?

We did this last year on New Year’s Eve. It took a while to get into it, but it was very helpful. Then we climbed Cleeve Hill to see the sunrise on New Year’s Day – which was good too.

Here are two sites if you would appreciate more resources for doing this – one simpler, one a little deeper.

And here is a prayer poem from Stephen Cherry which gives other suggestions for this reflection:

As the year’s final sands fall swiftly

through the narrow hip of the glass,

teasing me that they are speeding up.

Let me find a wayside bench where I can

rest and reflect – just a few seconds

for each month of the year past.

Let me feel again the heart moments that

mattered most, let me think back to

before the problem was solved, the decision made.

Let me recall the faces and voices that

meant much, that cared for me,

drew me on, restrained me with love.

I am grateful for those who

by giving me some unwittingly difficult word

wounded and saved me.

Let me remember the places where

good things happened; where there

was refreshment, delight and social joy;

let me recall feasts and treats, visits and encounters,

where radiance was.

I am grateful for the good days,

the good people,

the good times.

Let me visit once more the

shadows and shades of benighted

minutes and days, the hours

when purpose was eclipsed,

the moments when I met

hostility with fear,

where uncertainty made me anxious,

when I took the opportunity for the cruel look,

the self-indulgent feeling, when

it was my sin that spoke.

Let me fly back over the

months, hovering where I should,

pin-pointing grace and disgrace,

joy and woe, when I have

done well or let myself down.

And all this not for the sake of the

past alone, though it deserves its honour,

but for the joy of the present yet to come.