In January, year is still young. Like a blushing bride; coquettishly hiding under the exquisitely delicate veil of possibilities, hopes and dreams, allowing but a tiniest glimpse into the future … eleven months of it yet to come.
Oh how we would love to unveil even the smallest corner, if only to take a peek into the unknown … into that which is yet to come.
Still; sometimes on the account of belief that future is not something already created for us, but rather something we are to create for ourselves and as such it cannot be glanced at, and sometimes on the account of belief that neither is the knowledge of the future given to us, nor it would do us any good to know what awaits us, we resign ourselves, (with various degrees of success), to the unknown.
While burdened with uncertainty, the unknown also holds promise, and with promise comes hope. Hope is what all the futures are made of. Even those that turn out bleak or undesirable, or even heartbreaking, once started as a shiny new hope. Hope is as essential to humans as is breathing air. Cessation of hope inevitably results in annihilation. As history of humans shows; all dictators, as well as all clergy always knew that.
No other month of the year heralds our need for hope more vividly than January. While the month of the year might be different for different cultures and in different parts of the globe, the quintessential hope for better future at the beginning of each new year remains the same.
With annual celebrations of fare-welling the old and welcoming the new year over, we, mostly in western world, set out to de – clutter, detoxify/de -(insert whatever applies) our surroundings, and ‘healthify’ our lives by myriad of means. We declare ‘final’ ban on all our ‘sins’; over-eating, over-drinking, over-spending, over-sitting, over-(insert whatever applies).
Some make long lists, and set measurable goals, progress towards which is to be measured, preferably on colorful diagrams, throughout the year. Others declare to be fed up with all that nonsense and make resolution to not make ‘New Year Resolution.’
Popular media bursts with helpful articles on ‘How to Keep Your New Year Resolution Alive’, while shop windows display laud banners enticing us to join ‘New Year, New You’ frenzy, which of course cannot be embarked upon without the products designed to help us reach our new selves in no time and with minimal or no effort, (unsurprisingly; higher the price of the product – the less time/effort is required from us -:)!
Here in my little corner of the world, which a dear blogging friend of mine christened ‘Hobbiton’, January comes in the height of our summer, which of course means long holidays for most working people and our children.
As it is their nature, holidays lull us into that dreamy state when everything is possible, so our hopes, as well as our ‘resolutions’ live a bit longer. At least until we return to our daily grind, usually at the end of January, when first rains cool the air and obligatory shorts and jandals beach uniforms are swapped once again for the work-suitable-attires.
Be that as it may, while I am writing these lines, January is only little bit more than half way gone, so just like most of my counterparts, I am inclined to push those images to the very corner of my mind … after all there is a whole year ahead of me!
Not being ‘resolutions’ making type; my hopes and dreams remain rather simple and ordinary … as such they might have little bit more chance to translate into reality! Besides the year ahead of me will be the last year of my forties, and as Milos Kundera once said; ‘Alas, our human future is not childhood but old age.’
And there is a comfort in that future; comfort of knowing that one’s job has been done; either splendidly or clumsily, and therefore one is no longer subject of expectations, subject of observations and evaluations. Audience becomes irrelevant, or non-existent, or both.
So one goes about one’s life with far less fuss and furore.
Sunrise brings a beauty on its own, just as it is, rather than being a beginning of a new day with new goals and schedules.
Children, as does my own child, go briskly about their own life with all the vigor and ambition we once held. They measure their independence by the length of the distance they manage to separate themselves from their parents. It is called ‘growing up’ and this summer I observed it in my own daughter with much love and motherly pride!
Books are read and movie watched for sheer pleasure, stripped of any pretentiousness.
In the theater of life we assume supporting roles, those of lesser exposure. Dimming of the lights agrees with our dispositions. We have been around long enough to know that brightness of the front row reflectors, while alluring, is also unforgiving. Shadows, on the other hand, offer many hues.
And so does the hope.