Each Moment is a New Year

I love the turn of the New Year when it rolls around. All those shiny, brand new, unblemished days full of opportunity waiting for me. As time passes I am less and less into the celebration of New Year’s Eve. When I was married, my husband and I were the couple who proclaimed New Year’s Eve to be for amateurs; a phrase I know we nicked off someone else we thought too-cool-for-school. We preferred to stay home and have a quiet time at home, watching the ball drop on television and having our own celebration. It worked for us. The year before he left, he actually traveled for work on New Year’s Eve; a fact which I later found out was not true. But I was naïve and trusting, and I needed to believe in him; even with that little voice nagging inside my head somewhere down deep. That same year my best friend and all of our friends threw a massive celebration; a “sorry you can’t join us” kind of thing. We had a ball, though. Many members of my family joined us, tons of friends and it was truly fun. It actually started a new tradition for the holiday which we have kept up over the years. Our celebrations now are a little more subdued, but we still hold them; the kids are grown up on their own, many of my family members are no longer with us – and even some friends our own age are gone from this world now. Some years I think, ok, this is the year I just want to ring in the New Year by myself, and somehow I just don’t end up doing it. Because it is my second favorite day of the year (Thanksgiving being my number one; just a day for food, family and thankfulness; how perfect is that?), I want to spend it clear of mind, clear of clutter, and I want to be reflective and consider the whole year stretching out in front of me. So, some years ago I stopped drinking. Not entirely, but I nurse a drink or two and drink water; it’s just what I choose and how I want my fresh new year to begin. I love to wake in the morning, my mind clear, walk out into my kitchen, make coffee, step out on the porch and observe the world waking up; sunshine or clouds, warm or cool (January in Florida; you never quite know what it will be like). I let my mind smile, and the smile spreads to my face and into my heart. It’s symbolic, and I know it’s a little silly, but it makes my soul so very happy. It is actually what makes my heart happy waking in my own house on the weekends, too – that special routine, followed by some journaling or even time spent with a book, or lost in contemplative thought about my wishes for the new year (new day, new week, new month). Food for my soul.

It’s not January; it is July, but I was thinking of the reverence of a new day, a new week, a new moment, and how special they are. We can, in any moment of time, change our thoughts and the path we are walking on. Even in the midst of a tirade or an angry moment, in the midst of passion or one volatile mood followed by another. We can blink and change our minds and our entire lives. That just fills me with wonder. It is the symbolism of the fresh New Year; the ability to begin a new life right at our own fingertips at any given moment. I admit, I am still a work in progress with this type of thinking. I get frustrated, angry, quiet, irritated with the best of people. I catch myself sometimes, or sometimes someone will call me on it. Sometimes it is hard to give up self-righteous anger or suffering; we don’t want to feel better, really, we just want to wallow or stew in our own juices. But it makes the worst kind of stew, holding on to that negative feeling. It is so much better to give in and realize that the world has not stopped turning, and that we can begin our life new again at any moment. When I realize I am holding on to whatever the negative moment might be, I force myself to take a deep breath, down deep as far as I can go, and to roll it up, into the back of my heart and out of my body through my throat. I breathe deeply many times until the mood shifts and I can be logical and start fresh again. It’s how I choose to live.

That first year my husband was gone it occurred to me to sit alone and to wallow in loneliness. My friends did not allow that to happen, and I am ever grateful to them. That is the year; from the negativity of knowing deep in my heart and soul that my husband was not there for a very wrong reason; that is the year that I chose to begin to look for the rainbow and live through the rain. When he left later in the year – it was on another holiday that I found out he had left me. I lost myself that night I found out; it is gone from my mind, and that is probably okay. The next day, sitting on the couch in the house we built together I knew I had a choice. It was a conscious thought. You can choose to sit on this couch and cry. Or, you can get up and start moving. You can start looking for the next moment, for the new start. It was not easy, and I backslid a lot; for a very long time. But I found my new year, moment by hard won moment, and now I look for them every opportunity I get. I lived through that, and I continue to look for the beauty in each and every moment I can. I am grateful to God and my angels for giving me the knowledge to be appreciative for the smallest of moments.