The last two New Years have been spent in the warmth, on a beach. I’ve watched the sun set on the old year and rise on the new. Reflected on the year that’s passed, planned the year ahead, while spending the first day of the new annum in silence. It’s become a special time, at a time of year that previously very much wasn’t. New Year had always been a bit of a disappointment and in later years it became a disaster, with some spectacularly dramatic moments playing out in the transition between old and new. I kept going back for more, until two years ago I was well and truly done and headed off to a retreat in the sun, alone, in search of peace.
This year a lack of funds meant an exotic retreat was not going to be possible. No yoga in the sunshine. No beachside meditation. No balmy nights dancing ecstatically sober. I know, it’s a first world problem for a wannabe yogi. I was pretty gutted though, not just because my inner gypsy was craving hitting the road again, but more because of the opportunity cost to my sanity. The last two years I had been able to put myself back together after a tough year. First in Bali after the fall-out of my marriage breakdown. Then in Thailand as I started to realise that my career was heading in the same direction.
Desperate not to miss out on the solace of my traditional New Year retreat I decided to create my own. So, a few nights ago I found myself weaving my way through Dorset’s country lanes headed for a little log cabin. The plan was to go somewhere remote and beautiful. Watch the sunset. Get up for sunrise. Sit by a fire with some ceremonial cacao and see in the new year. Spend New Year’s Day in silence. Complete my annual audit. And return home with a plan for 2019.
That was the plan. The reality was slightly different.
Firstly, I arrived late and missed sunset. It was dark. There was a fire but I needed to build it. Not a problem, I’m an independent female and quickly had it lit and warming me up. I forgot though that a fire needs to be watched. I was so busy faffing around on Instagram posting an ‘end of 2018’ message I failed to notice that it had gone out. The phone was promptly switched to airplane mode. A reminder from my fire that he or she was my focus tonight, not a virtual rabbit hole that rarely had anything positive to offer.
I also wasn’t alone. Two metres away a cute couple were toasting marshmallows on their roaring campfire. Highlighting not just my inadequate fire skills but also my acute singleness. I’m not one to ruminate on being single, however I have to admit I did have a mini “why don’t I have a nice boyfriend who will build me a fire?” pity party for a brief second. I think they had the same thought, as he headed over to give me their remaining marshmallows and skewers, before they headed out for their romantic New Year’s Eve dinner. This only made it worse. “Why don’t I have a nice boyfriend who will build me a fire AND give the single girl next door the last of his marshmallows?”.
As marshmallow boy left, the lady to my right appeared. Eager to introduce herself (Toni) and find out if I had any salt. I didn’t. Followed by “Are you here on your own”. Yes. “Why are you here on your own?”. Because I wanted some peace. Was I going to get any?
By 8pm I was struggling to get into the meditative state I was aiming for to start preparing my cacao. I’d researched how to hold a cacao ceremony. I’d built playlists for all its phases. I’d brought crystals, Palo Santo, incense and candles to create a sacred space. I’d opened it by calling in the four winds. I’d set my intention. Answers on a piece of paper, tossed into the flames.
What did I want to release?
What did I want to call in?
What aspect of my healing journey was I honouring?
I was sat waiting to achieve state and drink. 8pm though, I needed to get a move on.
As I sat there meditating staring into the fire there was a movement to my left. I turned and saw Toni standing there. Startled I removed my headphones.
“You’re a vegetarian, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You won’t want this plate of steak and potatoes then!”
“No, Toni. But thank you.”
“I just wanted to make sure you were ok”.
“Thank you, Toni. I’m ok.”
Off she went. Back to her caravan and her New Year date. I plugged back in and tuned out. I was very ok. Happy to be having a meaningful evening with myself, over a meaningless one with someone I hardly knew.
Peace at last, I slid into my discussion with Lady Cacao.
I’d decided to hold a cacao ceremony after my last New Year in Thailand. The retreat held a New Year celebration which we started by drinking the warming drink around a fire while setting our New Year intention. One of the teachers sang to us and later we lay down as they took us through a sound meditation, followed by a sober rave. We danced barefoot, mad-haired, clear-headed throwing ourselves around to all kinds of dance music, while a DJ dressed in an eagle headdress span the tunes. It was probably my best ever New Year and a far cry from the toxic drama of old.
Cacao is chocolate in its purest form and a powerful heart-opening plant medicine. It provides clarity by guiding you on an inner journey to your heart chakra, connecting to your truth and removing any emotional blockages. Its origins are South American with it having been used in rituals dating back to ancient times. Cacao came to the West after a shaman called Keith first met the cacao spirit 15 years ago and he’s been holding cacao ceremonies in his garden in Guatemala ever since. Needless to say, my gypsy has added a visit to the Chocolate Shaman to her bucket list.
I’d adapted a cacao recipe I’d found online for the evening’s ceremony. Cayenne pepper, some spices, honey and almond milk were all added, meaning I found myself effectively drinking a rather rich hot chocolate. That’s certainly how it would have seemed and Toni certainly would not have understood how that one cup could provide an evening’s sustenance. I was purposely drinking on an empty stomach to feel the full effects. As I drank more I felt Lady Cacao’s embrace. She was gentle and subtle, but she was definitely there. We started to talk things over with the sound of shamanic drumming in the background.
I sat by that fire for 5 hours in the end. I nursed that cup of cacao for at least three. I didn’t want my shamanic journey to end. The flames would start to dwindle and I’d reach around for more wood, not ready to let it die. I admit I raided the cute couple’s wood store – I drew the line at popping over to Toni’s. As I watched those flames twisting and spiking I realised they were talking to me. Aided by the cacao and the drumming. So many things were coming up, I needed a notepad. This, along with a few helpful suggestions of people and pursuits I could invest less time and energy in, is what I genuinely heard.
“Things meant for you come easily”.
“It will come in its own time”.
“Things are engulfed and overcome”.
“Create space for flames to catch”.
I laughed out loud at the last one. A stupidly simple point. But the point of all points.
And I know it’s just basic science, I remember the fire triangle diagram at school: heat, fuel, oxygen. The fire was starting to wane and I kept having to separate the logs to let some air in. Whether it was the fire, the cacao or just my inner voice, something wanted me to hear that message. I’ve a tendency to pack so much into life, there isn’t much space left. And just maybe space was what was needed, to truly grow. Do less to become more. Remove everything that no longer serves. The pointless attachments, the unnecessary commitments, the limiting beliefs. They could all go. Let them all burn. Trust that I was making space for what was rightfully mine.
I moved onto the final stage of my ceremony; a gong bath. Another playlist, unlike last year’s live performance. If you’ve never experienced a gong bath or sound meditation, I highly recommend it. There is nothing like it. You are neither conscious nor unconscious, simply suspended in between. The vibrations work at a cellular level and you feel them going through you. It is so powerful. After my first time I felt as if I had awoken from the most perfect 8-hour sleep, when in reality I’d been out for an hour, at most. I sat back and let the sound waves take me under.
Blissful… Until I came to suddenly, compelled to check my phone.
00:00
There it was. That was it. Everything was now last year. It was all in the past and still all to come. A pure blank canvas. Relieved and ridiculously relaxed, I sat there just staring at nothing for a while.
Enough now. Enough contemplation. Time for celebration. I closed the space. Thanked all the ones for their service. Sent them back to the four corners. And switched the playlist. It was time to dance. Alone. In my hut. Ecstatically sober.
And so it was. I transitioned from 2018 to 2019. Not in paradise, but in peace.
The morning came and I woke naturally to the sunrise, back on track with the new year plan. Meditation. Gratitude. Silence. I headed to the beach. The sky was blue. The fields green. The cliffs white. Dorset at its best as I climbed the chalky path and descended to the pebble beach. Time for the audit.
What struck me as I put pen to paper was just how many things had gone well in 2018. Things were looking pretty good on paper, considering I’d had a ‘bad year’. Had I really? Certainly, my mother would say I had; her text the previous evening hoping that ‘2019 would be a better one’. Other than the lack-of-job / home / spouse elephant, I was struggling to find things that could have gone better. When it came to projects I wanted to complete and goals I wanted to achieve, the usual suspects were there: get fitter, eat better, meditate more. No surprises. No obvious input from Lady Cacao. Reflecting on ‘where I was now’ I didn’t have much to say, compared to the previous year. Perhaps because I had done so much navel gazing over the past 12 months.
What about where I wanted to be? There wasn’t much there either. Wasn’t there anything I wanted? Did I simply not know or did I really not want anything? Lady Cacao, time to pipe up. Nothing. All very odd. What I realised though, was I did want things, I just wasn’t craving them. They were there, they were just quiet and subtle. I’d craved for so long, I’d forgotten that wanting didn’t always equal a desperate desire that screamed loudly and needed to be fulfilled immediately. The deep longing I’d always known, for something, someone, anything to fill the void I felt inside, it was lessening. I was recovering. I could see it; the evidence was right here. I felt very, very content. I guess 5 hours of staring into a fire will do that to you. As I listed my objectives and painted my vision for the year ahead it became very clear that 2019 is not a year of action. I may be 40 this year but I don’t have a list of 40 things to do. Yes, I have a couple of things I want to achieve, but really, I have one aim and that is continuing my recovery. From this comes everything. Recovery is about setting and honouring boundaries that keep you safe. It’s trusting in a higher power. It’s having patience with the changes that take time. It’s about ‘being’ rather than ‘doing’. Lady Cacao and the fire knew this.
When I set out on my ‘retreat’ this year I was going to reflect, plan, get to it. I had a formula and this year was simply a watered-down copy-and-paste of the previous two years. But of course life is a series of phases and I was in a different place now. Despite everything that had happened this year I wasn’t distressed. I didn’t need calming. I didn’t need restoring. Perhaps it’s no coincidence that circumstances conspired to send me into the New Year this way. I needed to honour my journey more than plan the next leg. I don’t always to give myself credit, who does? But boy have I come far this year. I’ve acknowledged and danced with my demons. I’ve had my back when others didn’t. I’ve leapt into the unknown and taken risks. I’ve reached for help when I needed it. I’ve invested in self-care. I’ve found fellowship. I’ve entered recovery. I’ve made real, noticeable progress. And I don’t want it to slow down. Yes, I will get engulfed at times. The crazies will come, but I can take comfort knowing that like this New Year I can achieve true contentment, by myself. I need nothing external. All I need is available within. All the love and nurturing I could ever want is with me at all times. I know now I’m truly on the path to recovery.
So, what do I want this year? I want to learn from my mistakes. To not get caught up in relationships that do not serve me. To not settle, in work or love. To hold out for the right job, the right partner. To know what I’m looking for, to recognise and choose it, when it comes to me. For it will. I just need to create space and trust that everything that is meant for me will come, easily and in its own time. Knowing this I enter the New Year without a plan but with an open heart and very much at peace.