Brilliant Venus and a sliver of moon this morning, 5:50 AM, no one should be awake and yet we are. Dogs and Kim in the dark, in the cold, stamping feet to keep from thinking about how thin pajamas are against winter. I look back at the windows of the house, as if checking to make sure that haven is still there, and will be there again in five minutes, as Sabine takes her time, and Rufus waits. In winter I am aware of breath more; in the blackness the sound of my lungs thunders.
The last day of the year.
I feel the expectation of all the memories that New Year’s Eve brings, and the apparent necessity of sharing those thoughts with others. New Year’s Day is the altar call of American culture – our collective embracing of saving grace, cleansing and wiping the slate clean of all our flaws, while not dealing with them constructively. A random day, unconnected to the natural world, or even to our multitude of religions, a day selected by Romans long dead, for bureaucratic reasons. Tomorrow all over the country people will start diets, stop smoking, walk around a block, call their mothers, and resolve a million different ways to be better people. Then they won’t.
At last, Sabine finds relief, and we storm into the house. I think, as I often do, how much a blessing heat is. Simultaneously I think, many are cold. My mother would be proud of me, that I cannot experience joy without sorrow. I start to form a resolution in my head about making things better…and stop myself. If I will do a thing, then I will do it. I will not plan to do it, for therein is the flaw. Only the plan is done.
So on this last day of a year, a day like any other, if I will be, then in the being will be the proof. The words will flow, or not. Friends will be found, or not. Coffee will definitely be made, right now.