Hi there. Here we are, the start of the year, and the real start, not the days-that-are-still-vacation-days-days. The fifth of January. Can’t pretend it’s not real work time now, can we?
Even so, the fresh slate of a new year — not yet marked up by things we meant to do and didn’t, things we should have done but didn’t, and things we never should have done but did — is irresistible. Let’s think about it. From right here, in these early days of January, it’s all possible.
Usually some time around mid-February, the weight of reality tends to start pressing down, which is a heavy responsibility for such a short month, but we’re not there yet, are we? Nope, we’re here, the future year spread in front of us like a blanket of untouched, pristine snow.
Here’s the thing though. That snow is always going to have footsteps. Always. If it’s not the people tramping through in their boots, it’s the animals, the birds lightly scratching the surface; the larger four-legged creatures poking holes down into the drift. The landscape cannot stay pure, it cannot stay unmarked, because an unmarked landscape is an empty landscape.
So let’s not see the beauty of this year for the temporary state that, by its nature, will fade. Let’s see it for what it will be: trodden and soggy, worn in and used up. Isn’t that what time is for?
Check out my full-length novels, Her Cousin Much Removed, The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management and Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only), and the sequel, Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) which will be available on January 7, 2015.