The art of (not) predicting in 2022

The woodpeckers are starting to drum out their territory, and the thrush, great tit, robin and other birds are beginning to sing again, the morning and evening air filled with their trills and tunes. And the snowdrops are breaking through the frosts – for me, the first, welcome sign of spring growth.

This year, 2022, has a different feel. More expansive to me, more outward, about reconnecting more fully with the outside world after the past two years of contraction and imposed or self-imposed hibernation. We’re moving into a Yang year, the Chinese year of the Yang Water Tiger, from February, after last year’s Yin energy. I sense the seeds of change, of growth with renewed vigour. And after the isolation, reconnection.   

But I need to stop myself there. I’m about to leap into prediction. Pause. Reflect. It comes to me that I used to rely on external predictions a lot as a teenager and in my twenties, and even into my thirties. Always looking to see what kind of year, month, day it was going to be. Whether I was going to meet that man, get that job offer, or have “good luck”. I think it’s only when I found myself with a completely different life from the one I had been aiming for that I started to unpick all my old beliefs and obsessions. They were clearly inaccurate and kept me locked into longing, lack.

The unpredictable reader

Thank God for Eckhart Tolle: not looking back nor projecting, just being, observing, feeling. Presence. And the I Ching: the key is our approach to life and every situation. Each of the 64 hexagrams describes a different approach, not outcome.   

When I started to learn face reading, the possibility of prediction crept back in. The seductive idea of “knowing” what the future brings. And as I sit here writing this blog post, I see I’m coming unstuck again. I want to leap forward, show people the exact way. That’s not how it works, a voice reminds me.

Back to the present moment. I do feel a sense of energy bubbling up. Perhaps it’s just for now, not “spring energy”, as I’m labelling it. I love labels. They soothe my mind’s need to be ordered, to know. That’s an X. This is Y. Except it may turn out not to be Y (why).

There’s my mind playing word games, another of its strengths. Not helpful for a post about my inner world and observations. 

All these are factors in my real challenge: how to write a post that’s truly meaningful. Why does it have to be so damn meaningful?? Self-expectation has reared its head here too now. Self-judgment. Standards. And of course, under all this, is fear of criticism and judgment from others, from those who are bothering to read my words. The great unknown. The unpredictable reader (who knows who will land on my site and be drawn to read my blog?) I’ll edit myself out of a blog post. I have done many times. That’s why the last one you can see on my site was written months ago.  

Stymied. Frustration starts to rise up. What will it take for me to break through this writer’s block (another label) and just write something from the heart that others can connect with? I’ve been at this place so many times before. My analytical left brain is dominating my writing. The imaginative, intuitive right brain can’t get itself heard.

Time to go for another walk. I need to get back into my right brain.

And admit I don’t have the answers for myself right now, let alone predictions for myself or anyone else for the future. 

Thank you for listening.

With love

Saffron

16th January 2022

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