A new beginning
I'm not one for making New Years resolutions. They've always felt false to me, as though somehow I'm telling myself that I should somehow become someone else. But I see each new year as a new sheet of paper, just like each new day. In some ways, I wonder if folks didn't have it right to start the new year with the new growth in April, but in others I think that starting it in winter allows us a few months of thinking things through while it's too cold to go anywhere. I think I'd be really messed up by a new year beginning in summer, so I'm glad I don't live in Australia, despite enjoying a bluegrass program hosted there. Then again, maybe if I'd grown up with that being the normal thing, a winter new year would seem weird.
This year, not only did I feel my fresh page came pre-blotted, I suffered through a migraine starting on New Years Eve, in the evening and lasting until... well, I'm still wearing dark glasses and wincing whenever people down the hall talk. Meh. I found myself struggling to be a reasonable person at all, and even snapped at a friend for talking in the same room.
The enforced quiet time has led to a lot of thinking - some about what it means to walk down a noisy street and be the noise... some about the nature of peacemaking... some about why we seem to pick round numbers as though 3,000 were somehow of vastly more importance than 2,999, and how reaching that number on New Year's Eve meant that coverage of it was stuck between shots of various street parties worldwide... some about the nature of justice and the nature of the death penalty... Some of those thoughts may eventually come together in future posts.
And I've also reached a halfway point on the blanket for Dad. I have a new mailing address for him, which is good, because my package that I had prepared for Christmas came back about a month after I'd sent it, due to errors in the address. I'm repacking the thing, since I doubt he wants Christmas decorations now. And I'm beginning to write the story of the quilt for him to read when it's all finished.
This year, not only did I feel my fresh page came pre-blotted, I suffered through a migraine starting on New Years Eve, in the evening and lasting until... well, I'm still wearing dark glasses and wincing whenever people down the hall talk. Meh. I found myself struggling to be a reasonable person at all, and even snapped at a friend for talking in the same room.
The enforced quiet time has led to a lot of thinking - some about what it means to walk down a noisy street and be the noise... some about the nature of peacemaking... some about why we seem to pick round numbers as though 3,000 were somehow of vastly more importance than 2,999, and how reaching that number on New Year's Eve meant that coverage of it was stuck between shots of various street parties worldwide... some about the nature of justice and the nature of the death penalty... Some of those thoughts may eventually come together in future posts.
And I've also reached a halfway point on the blanket for Dad. I have a new mailing address for him, which is good, because my package that I had prepared for Christmas came back about a month after I'd sent it, due to errors in the address. I'm repacking the thing, since I doubt he wants Christmas decorations now. And I'm beginning to write the story of the quilt for him to read when it's all finished.
posted by Plain Foolish | 7:15 AM
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