Tabula Rasa is a Latin term meaning “blank slate.”  With the new year having just begun, it allows us to be just that, blank slates.  It’s the opportunity to begin anew.  To reflect on the previous year and its twelve months of experiences.  We have the ability to look back and rejoice in the good and learn from the bad.  It’s a fresh start to consciously be better versions of ourselves than we were last year.  We just have to be intentional about doing so. 

I had the privilege of going to Blakely Island twice last summer.  It’s a quiet island with very few residents accessible only by airplane or boat.  Life on the island is slow-paced and serene.  On my second trip there in August, my dear girlfriend and I took beach chairs and plopped them down in the sand.  We sat on the shore and watched the water of the San Juan Islands rush in to approach our toes and then recede as quickly as it had arrived.  It was mesmerizing and breathtaking.  We sat with the sun on our faces, breathing in the clean air, listening to the waves on repeat.  We could have sat there for days, quietly taking it all in.  As we walked along the sandy path, we found pretty pebbles, delicate seashells, empty remnants of crab shells, driftwood, and seaweed.  We collected small treasures of our favorite shaped rocks and beautifully crafted shells.  It amazed me that these lovely artifacts weren’t always this pretty or smooth.  It took the pounding of the waves, the tumbling of the stones, and the friction of all of the elements together to create the masterpieces that they were.  The actual beauty had been created by time, hardship, and a rough journey.  And isn’t that just like us?  The turbulent seasons of our lives that we have endured are what produce the finest versions of ourselves.  Just like a pearl that begins rough, once it is refined by an irritant, produces a beautiful, smooth, gemstone prized for its luster.  The tougher the crash, the more stunning the outcome.  In life, the trials we undergo and survive affords us the opportunity to come out on the other side stronger and way more splendid than we had started.  Will we fight it or embrace it and allow the process to refine us into improved individuals?  Will we complain about the pain or use it for our betterment? 

While on the same trip to Blakely Island, my girlfriend and I went to explore a particular area that housed a dock we could sit on.  Before the sun set, we dipped our toes in the lake.  As we did so, we noticed how the water would ripple from the contact of our feet.  The ripples carried quite a way across the pond and lily pads.  It made me contemplate again about how this translates to our lives.  The things we do and say have a tremendous ripple effect.  Sometimes the ripples are smaller and contained, while others are immense and cover more territory.  Either way, the ripples make contact with what is in its path.  As I look back over the past year, did my words and actions ripple through others positively or negatively?  These waves impact everything around them, so my hope is that I left things better, not worse.  Taking stock and inventory of the last twelve months, I can see how I could have done things differently on a few occasions.  Thankfully, I have a new year now to make improvements to my ripples that permeate those around me and will be conscientious about them.

As difficult as it was to leave the serenity of Blakely Island and go home, I left there with so many significant lessons learned.  Taking time to slow down and sit still in the quiet with beauty all around me allowed me to ponder, ruminate, and consider all that the previous year showed me about life and myself.  It was a year of grief as we said goodbye to my mother-in-law, but it was also a year of joy as my son got engaged and married his lovely bride.  As the months progressed full of engagement parties, bridal showers, and celebrations like my daughter turning 16, there were moments of complete delight mixed with the sadness of missing my husband’s mother.  But through it all, I was grateful for every bit of it.  Every emotion and feeling I had was appreciated because it’s a reminder of the gift of life. 

And just like the tides that I watched come and go on Blakely Island, such is life itself.  The waves are consistent and unending.  They never stop.   Even though they are sometimes smooth and calm on the surface, they can also be powerful and tumultuous, wreaking havoc above and below the water.  If we weren't standing sure-footed on the beach or the boats I saw tied up in the harbor weren’t anchored properly, there would have been certain wipeout.  We can get tossed and pushed underwater becoming disoriented in the waves of this world.  That’s why having an anchor is key.  It keeps us stable and in place.  Even though we might get rocked back and forth by the force, the anchor supports us and provides security.  My anchor is my faith in Jesus Christ who has never failed me.  He has given me the strength to not drown and to not get pulled under.  He has given me another year of life and new experiences that challenge and excite me.  And, if given the right perspective, can even help turn me into a precious jewel.