New years eve is an opportunity for musing about what has come to pass and what is yet to be. As the world crosses the threshold between 2022 and 2023, I am called to share my own experience. Hard to imagine, when I was in my 20s, what would be occurring four decades into the future. It would have been science fiction to know what technological advances have occurred in the interim and how the world has changed. How I have changed. Being a professional writer was just a fantasy back then, although, taking pen to paper was a joy and creative writing classes in high school and college were among my favorites. Although my degrees are not in journalism or English, The Muse found me in 1988 when I became co-publisher of a magazine called Visions. Had I known back then, where that would have led, I would have been delighted.
“Time, Time, Time, see what’s become of me; while I looked around for my possibilities.”-Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel
Although I have come to believe that time is a mental construct and a societal agreement, I still enjoy the thresholds between there and then, here and now. I am fascinated by the ways in which the days and weeks and months and years unfold, although, lately, I have found myself treasuring the moments. I sometimes sit silently and stare into space, mind open, not going anywhere. In the ‘before times,’ pre-pandemic, I would be too much on the go to take the time to just BE. I was ravenous to collect experiences and encounters with people. Somehow, it seemed to validate my existence. Now, I smile with the wisdom that has been a gift of aging. I treasure the dear ones whose paths have intersected with mine, if ever so briefly. I am blessed to maintain long term friendships and shake my head in awe and wonder about the depths and heights my emotions have been carried along the way. I still get things accomplished, just not as frenetically. I look around at stuff that needs doing, such as the pile of clean laundry on the window seat in my bedroom as I type these words. They can wait to be folded or hung up while I finish this article.
It is New Years Day, and by the time my head touched down on my pillow, it was 1 a.m. Although I had the luxury of sleeping in, my eyes sprung open 6 hours later. A nap is in my plans later today.
It was an unusual NYE. I had come home from time with my favorite people on the planet. I had some quality (nearly 3 year old Dean and 7 month old Lucy) time while their mommy and daddy had dinner out. Pizza, snuggles, playing, drawing, singing, reading, and dancing were on the menu. When Lucy dropped her bottle and we couldn’t find it at first, Dean enlisted the help of his Paw Patrol buddies to locate it. Normally, I am with them each morning, taking the first shift with their care, and then their other grandparents or aunt take second shift until my daughter in law comes home from her job as a teacher and then my son comes home a few hours later. Since she was off for winter break, I had not seen them since Christmas Day. Hugs and smiles greeted me and my grandson took my hand and said, “Bubbe (Yiddish for grandmother), come play,” as he led me to a puzzle he had dumped out on the floor. I was helpless to decline his invitation. Why would I want to? Unless I am in the middle of tending to Lucy’s feeding or diaper changing needs, I always say yes to interacting with him. He has become more patient in waiting for my attention and more welcoming of his baby sister joining in the fun, even handing her toys to play with and being mindful of what might be a hazard to her. “No, Lucy,” he intones, “You’re too little. Take this, instead.” For the moment, everyone is content.
In years past, I would have been at a party (one year I went to two of them) and turned down an invitation this time, opting for a quiet night at home. Throughout the evening, I chatted with family and friends and we wished each other a happy new year. I was flipping back and forth between the NYE shows, Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Years Eve (sans Dick Clark for many years) and the CNN celebration hosted by a sober Andy Cohen and Anderson Cooper which I was relieved to see after last year’s drunken debacle. There were people who thought their tipsy antics were funny. I wasn’t one of them. They were truly funnier and more present and more professional without alcohol on board.
My favorite show was a repeat of an Austin City Limits episode, featuring Jon Batiste. He rocked the stage. He told the on their feet excited audience, “This is not a concert. This is a spiritual practice.” New Orleans jazz meets classical piano meets rock meets revival. Hallelujah!
Experiencing JOMO. (Joy of Missing Out)
As I am writing this, I can acknowledge that I did indeed see the ball drop in Times Square; I wasn’t sure I would be able to keep my eyes open. I marveled at all of those people who braved the wind and rain to say they had been there. For some, it may have been a bucket list item. It has never been one for me. Hard to imagine standing that long and then trying to navigate getting out of the area into someplace warm and dry. I had the thought, (gratefully so) that there was no violence and people were in celebratory mode as they faced another 365 days, filled with hope and possibility. I joined them in that sentiment as I toasted with Martinelli’s Sparkling Cider.
I express gratitude in advance of entering 2023, for all of the amazing experiences I am having throughout that year, the awesome people I meet who are making a positive difference in my life and vice versa and the emotionally, mentally, spiritually and financially rewarding creative opportunities that are opening up.
I express gratitude for my increasing good health and vibrance.
I express gratitude for all of the healthy, mutually supportive, loving relationships I carry with me into 2023.
I express gratitude for enhanced discernment about what is right for me and releasing what doesn’t serve my highest good. I surrender baggage that I had lugged around for years and leave it behind, rather that taking it with me.
I express gratitude for all of things that are going on behind the scenes now that I have no clue about, that will delight me in 2023.
Wishing you your heart’s desires as you cross that threshold.
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This Post is republished on Medium.
Photo courtesy of the author