As the clock hands move toward the midnight hour when one day ends and another a officially begins ... This one is special as it marks the end of one year and the beginning of another. What a delight! A chance to look at the new day with a new resolve and new ideas. One of the blogs I follow says in his profile -- I'm bursting with ideas. That's what I want to do tomorrow - I want to wake up simply bursting with ideas. Ideas that will goad my day into being even better than I imagined!!
I shared this wonderful poem with a number of people this year about the new year:
How beautiful the turning of the year!
A moment artificial yet profound:
Point upon an arbitrary chart
Passing like a breath upon the heart,
Yearning with anticipation wound,
New hope new harbored in old-fashioned cheer.
Even when the boundary line is clear,
We recognize the oneness of the ground.
Years, like circles, do not end or start
Except we lay across their truth our art,
Adjusting dates as they go round and round
Revolving to a tune long sung and dear.
As the time moves forward to what we call the "new beginning" I realized that we are actually always IN a new beginning. We have the choice to live with what was, tolerate what is or move into the exciting, terrifying world of what may be. As for me, that is where I want to "hang my hat" and dig in to live.
It's always been easy for me to simply get comfortable with the now, and accept what is as the way it is. I'm regaining something else I had lost over the last few months - the realization that I don't have to tolerate what is, that I don't have to accept less than my best - or anyone else's for that matter. (watch out friends!)
While I'm looking forward, I will need to acknowledge and celebrate the past. However, as the old country saying goes: "You can't plow straight furrows by looking back as you're going forward." And trust me, I want straight furrows in the field of my life!
And now, it's almost the time ... Morning is almost officially here1
New Year's Morning
Only a night from old to new!
Only a night, and so much wrought!
The Old Year's heart all weary grew,
But said: "The New Year rest has brought
The Old Year's hopes its heart laid down,
As in a grave; but trusting, said:"
The blossoms of the New Year's crown
Bloom from the ashes of the dead."
The Old Year's heart was full of greed;
With selfishness it longed and ached,
And cried: "I have not half I need.
My thirst is bitter and unslaked.
But to the New Year's generous hand
All gifts in plenty shall return;
True love it shall understand;
By all y failures it shall learn.
I have been reckless; it shall be
Quiet and calm and pure of life.
I was a slave; it shall go free,
And find sweet pace where I leave strife."
Only a night from old to new!
Never a night such changes brought.
The Old Year had its work to do;
No New Year miracles are wrought.
Always a night from old to new!
Night and the healing balm of sleep!
Each morn is New Year's morn come true,
Morn of a festival to keep.
All nights are sacred nights to make
Confession and resolve and prayer;
All days are sacred days to wake
New gladness in the sunny air.
Only a night from old to new;
Only a sleep from night to morn.
The new is but the old come true;
Each sunrise sees a new year born.
- Helen Hunt Jackson