Quietly Looking Forward
Most celebrations I know of are quiet ones, even solitary. The boozy, devil-may-care parties are fun in their time and context, but the ones where you just feel happy to have made it through another year reasonably intact are possibly more satisfying.
There’s Always a Bell to Ring, Somewhere
I was supposed to bring along the bubbly and orange juice for mimosas this morning, but clean forgot about them until halfway through brunch at my son’s. Nobody missed them. The food and the coffee and company were enough. I did throw together an apple-cranberry crisp which I’d planned to make for the solstice party but held off for fear of making too many sweets. There’s some left over for tonight or tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll make Hoppin’ John, to enjoy the silly New Year’s tradition of eating black-eyed peas for luck.
This year laid the groundwork for so many things. I’ve got thousands and thousands of words to edit into finished work, and have spent many productive hours learning the craft of novel-writing, particularly the cozy mystery. I’ve excavated through several more layers of fears and other old emotional traps, becoming more secure with each revelation. Technology keeps improving the quality of life, even as time and aging present more challenges–but I’m adjusting to both (thank heavens).
Letting time and nature take their course is one old saying that keeps coming to mind. Another one is, you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink it. Sometimes these apply to others in my life, and sometimes they apply to me. Letting time and nature take their course comes to mind every time I can’t even get the horse to the water, let alone have him drink it. He’ll either get thirsty, or he’ll perish. So be it.
Not all problems can be solved, but accepting this possibility can prevent us from making more problems. We can only do what we can, each according to our lights. For instance, there are a lot of things I could, and perhaps should, have done as a blogger–more social networking, guest posting, SEO, and writing more minimalism books, but I have been doing the most that I could do this year, or at least do well. Next year? Good question.
One Powerful Word, Sandra Pawula’s annual challenge at Always Well Within, is a nice a minimalist way to deal with New Year’s resolutions. This year I’ll choose “manifest.” I hesitated to choose it at first, because one naturally thinks of Manifest Destiny, an aggressive philosophy that led to no good, but the verb manifest embodies everything I want for the coming year: to bring into completion the rough drafts that were done this year, both in writing and in life. Many other good things will follow naturally from that, so I won’t have to worry about dragging that horse to the water, bringing the mountain to Mohammed, making silk purses out of sow’s ears, or whatever else seems next to impossible. I’ll just focus on solving the problems and completing the projects that are well within my grasp.
And yourself? What will you do?
Wishing you and yours the very best year in 2013.