One more time. With feeling.
January is named for the two-faced Roman god Janus, who looks into the future with one face and into the past with the other. That's kind of where I'm at, too. On these dark days following the winter solstice, I look at the year ahead and resolve to be better in some small way, even as I look at the year past and realize how unlikely that is.
Was it just 12 months ago I was standing in front of this same mirror, vowing to hit the gym, cut down on the fatty foods and take it easy on the wine? I think it was.
Those vows are too easy to make after the excesses of the holiday season. Suddenly the waistband is a little too snug and you've got some acid reflux going on, and a little headache just behind the eyes, and you realize that in a whole year all you've achieved is another trip around the sun with everybody else. It really is time to make a change, you think, and this time the change will extend beyond the first week of February.
Which no doubt why the Romans invented old Janus, god of gates and portals, god of transitions. In 21st-century America, the transition most sought is the one from fat to slender, or from obscurity to fame, but the idea is the same: If you want to be good-looking and get your own hit podcast, once a year it's a good idea to take a few minutes and see how things are trending.
Thus are born New Year's resolutions -- the temporary triumph of hope over experience. I make fewer of them than I used to, but I still do. They're mostly mundane: gonna write more, gonna get better on the guitar, gonna be nicer to everybody. I don't write them down anymore, since it's better not to leave a paper trail, but I still try to convince myself each January that this time it will be different, that I will end the year a better man than when I started.
We'll see about that, won't we? For now, let's drink (moderately, of course) to the end of a bizarre year -- and the middle of a decade that seems not so great, even by my lowered expectations. Things can only get better, right? Eventually? Happy New Year, all.
Comments
I don't make resolutions as such, but I agree this is a time to contemplate things and consider how we want to be in the future.
And speaking of the future, when it seems like things just keep getting worse, I take a little bit of comfort in two things:
First, each of us can always make a difference, however small it may be - being a little more patient in traffic or in line; helping someone out a little bit (reaching things on high shelves at the grocery store is a specialty of mine); contacting a friend one hasn't heard from in a while. It doesn't sound like much, and it's not, but I think it still matters.
Second, in the really long run, none of this will matter at all. Billions of years from now, the Sun will expand and consume the Earth, and if there is any life remaining here, that will be the end of it. To be clear, I'm not a nihilist. I think it very much matters what we do in the short time that we're here. It's just comforting in a weird way to know that eventually it will all get erased.