New years has taken on a unique sort of shine in my mind. Often its the last ditch effort to continue our binge run of consumption that we began back in November, or the world’s biggest non event proclaimed by our most logical and militant non believers. I’m a bit somewhere in between. I’ve slept through my share of monumental midnights. I agree that its feels arbitrary. You could find the reasons why it was place where it is somewhere in some textbook I’m sure. A previous set of us made the decision and who followed have been grandfathered into the deal.
The new years resolution gets flack from both sides of the fight. We tend to agree that this specific date holds not more magic than any other throughout the year. So whats the commotion. Perhaps its the winter’s wind the creeps in through the cracks of the house, making my limbs stiff. I turn up collars and reside under blankets, letting my mind walk instead. Its my predisposition for introspection. Speculation of whats to come. A small habit to feel a little less helpless on this planet. It could be just the chance to forgive myself. An allowance of grace for each time I didn’t quite hit the mark. The times I felt to tired. The times I was just lazy. When I forgot and when I didn’t know. That something I had hoped to achieve might have been a bit too large for me to chew. That its okay to just be as hopeful for next year.
Remember those years long lost. When you had hoped for just a scrap, and now how much more you have, and how mundane it feels. Remember the weight, its only grown to feel so light. Its all of this wrapped up neatly together as much as life feels chaotic mess of a pile. Its the quiet rhythm of life that can be felt as it ripples out when we pause for this arbitrary moment out in the cold. It doesn’t feel as foolish the longer I take to exist withing it. Its easy to stay for way to long. Listening and meandering through your own soul. Allowing the small whispers of the heart to be heard. A fresh blanket of snow deadens the noise of the world, and in the gaps we can learn about ourselves.
New Years for me is internal. A small pocket of space exists for it within me. Small and secluded, kept away from everyone else. I like it that way. Its just mine and nobody else. Kept secret away from everybody else. I keep a lot of things like that, too many. New years is a drawn out task, and brief moment. New Years is the drive back home in the dark. Its cold. Its silent, and a song on the radio plays soft. The honest feeling that your left with when its just you and your own thoughts. I love the feeling when honesty pumps through the body like blood. Its a brutal caress.
I’ve taken to using the last pages of yearly planners to give me a space to think. New goals and old ones I don’t want to give up on yet. New en devours that sound glamorous, and curiosities that might become new interests. I speculate on whats to come, what I could be. Oh there are so many things that you can be. Its simply not letting what you’ve already become get in the way. There is not enough time to be it all. So you have to pick on all the things that you want to be that you never will. I’ll take these and find space at the first vacant pages of next year.