A year ends. Do I fall into the trap of explaining to the world that tonight is not the end of all things tragic and sad and epidemiological? Ok. Fine. I will. It’s Dec 31. And in case you are wondering, the 365 day calendar is not based on tragic events. It doesn’t decry pain and give you a new start. You do not suddenly transition from your current self to a greater, more evolved self. You do not want to be thinner or more intelligent or drink less in but a few hours. I mean, especially right now, what with that whole COVID thing. Stopping eating or drinking too much would leave you with too much time to start good habits… But then, I leap too quickly to my point.
If this last “year of COVID”, which didn’t start Jan 1 and end abruptly tonight… gave us time to be alone, more alone, more together, more faced with our own thoughts, our own minds, our own weaknesses and strengths. Oh, the mirrors we have peered at, mocked quietly and hopefully become more familiar and… If we’re lucky, maybe we began to love what we saw, what we see, what we will still see to be true tomorrow. We are today, exactly what we will be in 12 or 24 hours or even a week from now. Bottom line. Truth. Mirror unveiled.
I have seen myself more clearly than ever before. And I have been amazed at the flaws my busyness allows me to gloss over. I have learned that right after I detested being home, I liked it very much. I realized that I had time to add some good habits in, to settle into my nest a bit (which I usually abhor), and to become calmer, more focused.
It’s on the other side of great discomfort, that we find our strengths are immeasurable.
My friends have been steady and strong and never a moment further away, even though we didn’t share physical space much. My kids and I were forced to be home together, and we found a way to communicate better. And that also was precluded by me reading books about conjuring and magical potions.
What I do know, is that the calendar year, which is, again, potentially arbitrary, in regards to worldwide spread of disease– is not arbitrary to our previous customs. We still had birthdays and holidays and disappointments and excitement. There was love and experience and yes, a little travel. Only it wasn’t cloaked, for me, in so much other stuff.
We all learn what we want, what we are open to, what we are ready for. This year, I was ready to see me all wrapped up in my own life, a life I chose this year, a life that grew into me, this new version of me, because every year, every event, every single thing changes us, and we can never be the same. I really like that me! She is older and wiser and fun and witty and simple and complicated and more free than it had seemed.
So cheers to the arbitrary year and chosen, very ritualistic night, where we rebirth our hopes and dreams and visions and settle back into the person we are right now, in but a few weeks. To the great monolith we will imagine ourselves to be, the vices we think we will leave behind; but, in actuality, will leave them in our backpacks, to be found too soon. To the grandiose dreams we hope to meet, and I hope, I wish, for you to keep one of those dreams, close and ready, knowing that it won’t be the countdown, a midnight kiss, or some vision you had this week. It will be you simply moving towards that dream, that will make it come true. And I know, with the greatest love and faith in you, that you can make it come true. Don’t give up, don’t search the stars, keep moving forward. Keep believing.