The end of the year
should illicit some creative
burst, some all encompassing
year-end diatribe about the
life we leave behind and the one
to embrace as it’s messily born
out of the aging womb of the past.
I’m not sure I want to do that though.
I don’t know what can come from a deeply
introspective review of the past year.
I know when I failed, I know when I succeeded.
Do I need to catalogue memories and wrap them in a
bow and name them all, “Nostalgia”.
I don’t think I want to.
Perhaps 2015 followed such a familiar pattern of
triumphs, let-downs, hurts and joys. So common
in fact that I can hardly remember if they even actually
occurred in 2015. Did that really happen in the last 12
months? Did it? Are you sure? Wasn’t that like, three years
ago? Hm, just in June you say? That’s insane.
Completely unworthy of noting.
Or was it an eye opening year full of new
realizations, mind altering therapy, long wrought
battles of the brain finally won, acceptance discovered,
personal understanding revealed? Were there less anvils
dropped on your head? Were hearts opened to new
ideas? Was it a year to go in the books and referred to
as The Golden Year of the Self?
It’s both and neither.
It’s the same and different.
It’s the same hurts by old lovers,
It’s the new smiles by old friends,
It’s the old heartaches,
It’s the new desires unfulfilled.
It was the same stuff a new life is filled with.
I’d like to think that 2016 will be “My Year”.
I’ll turn 40 years old.
I’ll reach some mid-point in life,
Some milestone of living,
a grand entrance onto the next
stage where I can act the part of a
grown-up but be far more believable.
I never know what the next year will
bring. I never have much of any
expectations, other than keeping my
heart from breaking too often and the
wish that people are generally good to each
other the majority of the time.
I know, from experience, that it will not be easy.
No year ever is as easy as we wish,
No month, day or hour spent in this life
is ever easy. Yet through it all, the fog and mist
of the future, I still think there’s a glimpse of
hope, a light, a flicker of something good coming
and that makes the new year something to look
forward to. It makes the only real difference at all.