I was walking with my dog Nahla yesterday when she caught the scent of our neighborhood fox, or the mischievous kitty from next door who loves to tease a round of hide and seek through the small dense woods in the front of our property. Nahla’s ears perked up and her entire body stiffened in preparation for the anticipated adventure ahead. At the edge of the very woods we were being lured into, I noticed some overgrown bushes with keen pointed thorns that seemed to sparkle in the sun, much like objects in cartoons do when the artist wants to highlight their sharp or menacing nature. While these barren and desolate briars contributed most beautifully to the aesthetic of the stark and craggy winter landscape all around us , it was clear they were also quite functional too, apparent in their demarcation of territories and vigorous enforcement of boundaries. Sensing Nahla’s eagerness and the reality that my ingress was looking tenuous at best, I let her lead the way into the woods. While the briars initially allowed me to pass, they abruptly gripped the back of my jacket with the force of an overpaid bouncer who came to his senses after mindlessly admitting an underage scamster. Jolted backwards by the snappy restraint, I immediately tried to free myself by continuing to walk forward with greater force and intentionality. Surely with enough confidence and conviction, I could sway these zealous and overgrown guardians. The briars were unwavering though. Next, I tried to shimmy my way out. I tried to loosen and physically outmaneuver these hooks by swiftly swaying my shoulders back and forth, with lots of sass I may add, but to no avail. The initial shock of the predicament I had found myself in quickly wore off and a wave of fear began to seep in. I admitted to myself quietly, “I am really stuck”. And next came the million dollar question, “what if I can’t get free?”. With a lower center of gravity and a much clearer path, Nahla was already many feet ahead of me now and more determined than ever to find her furry nemesis.

At that moment, I realized there was a lot to lose here, the most significant of which was my precious golden haired hound whom, without any guidance or limits, could go on tracing scent after scent until she was sufficiently lost and unable to find her way home. A victim to her own tendency toward distraction and greed, I projected. Though as I reflect back on that assessment now, it was probably much more reflective of my own liabilities than hers. Nonetheless, I paused, took a deep breath and got all parts of my pre-frontal cortex on line. All hands were clearly needed on deck to get free of this thorny captor.

I am not sure the exact moment I got untangled but what I know for certain is that it required that moment of pause and even taking a few steps back to allow myself to feel through all the individual holds and to methodically address each of them, one by one. Progress was much slower than my buoyant hound probably would have liked but in that moment she too seemed impacted by the energy shift from that of “barreling through” to one of patience and cooperation. Nahla had actually stopped in her tracks and appeared to be waiting for me now, looking back from time to time to check on my progress. Within moments, I was free and marveling in the new air and landscape of this more intimate, deeper chamber of the woods. As I walked through the potpourri of fallen leaves and broken branches, I felt rewarded for my efforts with that ambrosial earthy fragrance surrounding me and the crunchy, melodious sounds of my forward moving feet gliding across organically amassed piles of compost.

As I reflected on my besiegement, my mind went to the phenomenon of New Year’s Resolutions and the fact that so often by this time (late January), old habits and patterns have started to behave much like the briars at the edge of the forest, threatening all progress and new landscapes ahead. In fact, it is usually at this critical juncture that Resolutions so often fold, throwing their cards on the table and grabbing their coats as they head back home. After my encounter with the Briars, I wondered if this year we could draw on more patience and steadfastness at these fault lines of our resolve. What if instead of throwing in the proverbial towel, we paused and strategically examined all the individual hooks that are hindering our progress ? Maybe we could even take a few steps back intentionally, to get greater perspective and more space. Perhaps the reason New Year’s Resolutions are so infamously hard to keep is because in our haste to get to desired goals and new destinations, we neglect to partner with our selves in deep and compassionate ways that beseech us to closely examine the specific thoughts, messages, needs and desires within our resistances. We mistakenly apply all-or- nothing thinking to an internal change process that is complex, nuanced and layered. We try to override, by-pass and bully parts of ourselves instead of finding creative inroads through deep listening, self-compassion and perseverance. I personally intend to bring forth this lesson of the Briars the next time I falter or am denied access to a more whole or healthy version of myself for, as interspiritual author and speaker Mirabai Starr has brilliantly pointed out, “Our Wildness is intertwined with our Beingness”.