Wednesday, January 06, 2010

A New Year

I normally like new years. They’re an annual—if artificial—chance to start over, to reassess and try again and throw ourselves with renewed dedication and hope into the endless quest to make ourselves, our lives, our world a little bit better.

Yet I find myself approaching this new year with a strange sense of detachment somehow lacking the enthusiasm with which I normally embrace this ritual. Perhaps it’s because New Orleans is wrapped in a deep freeze that is killing my garden with an icy wind howling straight from the arctic to whip at my hibiscus and palms and the bare stems of my frangiapanis. Perhaps it’s because I’ve just said a stoic goodbye to my youngest, off for a grand adventure in London. Perhaps it’s because I’m watching my 92-year-old mother fail a little more with each passing day. I could blame the economy, the endless beating of war drums and the greed of politicians, but that will always be with us. Maybe I’m just in a funk. Maybe this year I’ll focus on the Chinese New Year, coming February 14. It’s going be the Year of the Tiger. Time to start practicing my roar.

In the meantime, I’m stealing this New Year’s wish from Steve Malley, because Neil Gaiman has managed to capture the spirit I’m finding illusive at the moment:

“May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books, and kiss someone who thinks you're wonderful, and don't forget to make some art. Write, or draw, or build, or sing, or live, as only you can.

“May your coming year be a wonderful thing, in which you dream both dangerously and outrageously. I hope you'll make something that didn't exist before you made it; that you will be loved, and you will be liked; and you will have people to love and to like in return. And most importantly, because I think there should be more kindness and more wisdom in the world right now, I hope that you will, when you need to be, be wise, and that you will always be kind. And I hope that somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.”



Cheers, everyone.

9 comments:

Lainey said...

Awwww Candy. Your daughter's departure and your mother's rapid decline are enough to cause depression. But with the sustained, widespread cold, dark weather, I'm thinking SAD is not just for Scandinavians anymore! So many people I know across the country are really down now, longing for light, warmth, and Spring.

orannia said...

(((Candy)))

Lainey said...

Oh! Meant to say thanks for the adorable marmalade kitties image. Makes me want to put the kettle on for hot tea.

Charles Gramlich said...

A lot of things happening at once. Sometimes we just become emotionally drained. Right now I'm feeling pretty exhausted after the first day back to school. It takes a bit to get my sleep/wake cycles back to normal. Maybe the tiger will bring the energy when he comes.

cs harris said...

Lainey, I hadn't thought of it as depression but you may be right. And I do hate dark, cloudy days; all those rainy days in December probably took their toll on me.

Orannia, thank you.

Charles, Since I'm feeling like I missed something on January 1, I'm going to focus on the tiger.

Steve Malley said...

I'm going through much the same thing myself. Generally, I'm a fan of annual reassessment, but this year I'm just not in it.

Might just be having too many things hanging fire at once: Lately I've been running around busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest...

Anonymous said...

Bookmarked this. Sometimes non-standard due to you for sharing. Unequivocally value my time.

liz fenwick said...

Hope you are coming out of your blue funk. Thank you for sharing the beautiful thoughts.
lx

psI'm sure your daughter has plenty of contacts in london but if you need more email me.

cs harris said...

Steve, maybe that's a part of it: I'm just too busy to reflect.

Liz, thanks. I'll keep that in mind.