So, once again, it’s New Year. This year, like many others, I found myself engaged in conversation with several people who shared equal bewilderment at what all the fuss was about. 2017, after all, won’t be a significant new year: no new decade, century or millennium is beginning.
Surely all the major upsets and sources of unrest and disturbance in the world have reared their ugly heads in 2016. Or are we celebrating the return to normality, somehow glad of it however Britishly we moan that it means a return to the drudgery of overcrowded trains on dark, cold mornings which we’d rather rest through. As one acquaintance put it to me a few years ago: “Why do I want to celebrate a mere fact of mathematics.”
But I think there is a point to New Year, and not just because, this year, I’m looking back on a year of incredibly good fortune and, for the most part, much happiness. If indeed it does mark a return to normality, it forces us to confront the question: do I want to return to normality? A year is a chunk of time, not insignificant but long enough for a bumpy ride of life’s ups and downs – a time that can see a life changed unalterably, whether for good or for ill. Christmas is such a profoundly abnormal time: a time where the acuteness of our joy at our good fortune or sorrow at our bad is magnified. It’s the one time where we return from what is, no matter one’s circumstances, a sharp departure from the norm of whatever our present reality is. It is, therefore, the time to consider whether that normal is welcomed, or whether this is a moment, however arbitrary the “fact of mathematics” may be, to examine whether disruption and change is needed. If it isn’t, well-made resolutions to lose weight, swear less or have fewer cups of coffee a day will quickly flounder. But if it is, pointless resolutions need to be dropped and replaced by a serious reflection on what really needs to change, and how one will get there. If 2017 really does need to be better than 2016, or if one’s life has changed so much that a future course must necessarily be so different from the path previously traversed, is it in the hands of the gods? Or is it in our power to shape? Or, if a combination of both, in what balance?
This rare, unique moment to take stock of one’s life shouldn’t be passed up. A large chunk of time has passed, and another lies ahead.
IT isn’t a lifetime – it’s a finite period whose horizon is short enough for our feeble imaginations to conceive of its possible beginning and its end. And yet it is long enough for us to envision changes to our lives, be they the small changes that are the favourite of self-help books, or the big changes: a new home, a new job, or the point where grief and loss have become burdens that have eased up enough to be bearable – a point where, perhaps, you will laugh and smile again.
IT all means that, whatever 2016 has held for you, I wish you in all sincerity a very happy (or if not at least a happier) 2017.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Readers are trusted to keep it clean and respectful.
If you have difficulty posting anonymous comments, you may need to turn off settings preventing third-party cookies or cross-site tracking prevention.
If, like me, you have a visual impairment, you may need to select an audio challenge if the system requests verification. These are easy to hear.
If you still cannot post comments for any reason, please email aidanjameskiely1@gmail.com