How do you make the old year new?
You can’t really. That’s what makes New Year’s Day and all the sanguine emphases on fresh starts, resolutions, and clean slates a bunch of malarkey.
Debt, sickness, and other concerns that were serious issues at the end of the old year will likely — barring some Lifetime Movie Miracle — still remain issues in the beginning of the New Year; the unbroken flight of the temporal arrow shooting through our arbitrary divisions with indifference.
I made a pledge when we moved out here to “get involved” and I have pushed myself harder than I ever have before.
2014 did have some good points, the kind of points of which my husband tells me I should be proud: my writing has gotten more exposure; I’ve been involved with numerous non-profits, boards, and committees; and I’m now an assistant editor for a literary journal.
All of the above, though, are non-paying.
My current full-time paying work doesn’t pay enough – not even close – and is physically, emotionally, and psychologically draining. I’ve had worse adherence to my medication regimen than I’ve had in years, I’ve unintentionally lost about 30lbs so far, and my finance-related stress is at an all-time high.
Yeah, sure, money isn’t everything and lack of it shouldn’t diminish the value of other things, the things that truly matter. And it doesn’t. But it certainly overshadows them, eclipsing the joy they bring as I stare into a new year that is simply the old year continued.
So how do you start a New Year when you are still wounded and bleeding from the previous year without a tourniquet in sight?
One-half of that start I reckon is waking up. Not everyone does. Not everyone did.
Another half is staying up. Not everyone does that either.
Although “the thought of suicide is a great consolation: by means of it one gets through many a dark night,” it is day now. I’m both awake and plan to stay up.
So I regroup, write this post, and try to think of ways I can push myself even harder in 2015.
It always is, isn’t it?
Until it’s not.