And to make an end is to make a beginning.

"For last year's words belong to last year's language and next year's words await another voice.  And to make an end is to make a beginning."  T.S. Eliot

So here it is, the last few hours (and words) of the last day of 2008.  I went to work as usual, and then ran a few errands, and more than once during the day I heard someone remark that it had been a fast year, or "Wasn't it just last New Year's a few weeks ago?"  Twice I heard "I'm glad this year's over."

I'm not.

Actually, I'm not really glad or sad but probably some of both and a little of neither.  The difference between December 31, 2008 and January 1, 2009 is a very artificial boundary, if you ask me.  But placing events in a year is how we measure and keep track of them, at least in the absence of any more significant milestones such as September 11, 2001.  I am still, and always will be, placing events in my life as before or after that stake in the ground. 

Ordinarily, though, we remember what calendar year things occurred in and also whether or not that was a good year or a bad one.  Occasionally, the years contain an even balance of good and bad, or not enough of either to note.  In that case, the year could be neutral, possibly even forgettable.  Off the top of my head, I can't remember anything at all significant about 1987, for example.  But I know 1990 and 1993 were good, being the years my children were born.  In 1996, I was divorced, broke my arm, and lost my job of 17 years so I'd call that a bad one.  2005 saw a significant relationship implode, and yet another job lost to downsizing.  Both of those events made way for new things, though, so it was a year of catalysts.  Turning points.  Difficult, but strengthening.  Generally, the good years contain births, weddings, trips, and other assorted successes and joys, while funerals, job losses and other struggles cause other years to be looked back on less fondly.

I would call 2008 a very good year, overall.  I guess I didn't have much to lose on Wall Street .

Not long before the year started, I received the gift of a Ganesh, with the counsel that "he removes all obstacles."  Whether Ganesh had anything to do with it or not, I was able to do a number of things in 2008 that in earlier years, I had not found easy or even possible to do.  Quitting smoking.  Moving to a new place.  Changing.  Improving.  More changing.   As insignificant as some of those things may seem to you, I have not taken these accomplishments for granted.  And some 2008 events I have appreciated even more:  my daughter getting her license,  turning 18, graduating from high school, starting college and finishing her first semester with flying colors. My son making perceptible emotional and physical changes from a boy to a young man.   Opportunities I have been given at work.  The continued relative health and well-being of my immediate family.  People I have been lucky to know and new friends made.  Places I have been and things I have seen. 

It wasn't a perfect year.  There were deaths in the family, hospitalizations, a car accident, frustrations, hard work.  But it is both the good and bad events that add depth and color and shape to my prism of experience.  The kalaidoscope through which I see the incredible beauty and precariousness of everything else in life.  I sense this more clearly every passing year no matter if it was a good one or a bad one.  I am more frequently brought to tears by things as simple as a piece of music, a face, a tree, a photograph, a conversation, a breeze, a string of words.  Conversely, I am less likely to cry or be bothered by minor problems. 

I don't know if this is just an increasing sense of time running out as I get older.  I've never personally experienced any death-defying moments like the kind that bring other people to this point of view.  Maybe it's hormones, or maybe it's my particular brain chemistry that ought to be studied after I die.  Hell, maybe it's mental illness.  I do wonder at times whether my appreciation of little things is amplified for a reason:  Does the beauty exist to this degree only against the contrast of something darker and scarier and not so pretty lurking in the shadows around the corner?  Is there a shoe waiting to drop that my subconscious feels looming over my head?  

I don't dwell on those thoughts.  I prefer to think I see the magic in things.

Yesterday I received the gift of another Ganesh from my friend at work.  I can't give you his name, but the cadence of it roughly matches "NoCinnamon NoMonopoly" as best I can convey it.  It's musical, more like a melody than the percussion-y sound of most American names (to my ears).  Anyway, as so many other H-1B visa workers here do, he travels back home to India each December for about three weeks. That's the total amount of time he gets to spend with his family each year.  That thought pains me on his behalf, but I can also feel how deeply he values each and every minute of those visits.  I recognize in him a sense of appreciation ten times greater than my own.  And the fact that he appreciates my friendship enough to bring me a Ganesh from his trip is truly, utterly humbling.

 
This Ganesh is a mere two inches tall, and if you don't have any sense of what I'm talking about, you will see a plastic, mass-produced, stereotypical souvenier-shop trinket, one of perhaps tens of thousands that look exactly the same.

Through my prism, I see a gift of incredible beauty, color, detail, delicacy, history, meaning and culture.  I see a reminder of friendship, appreciation, and the message . . . the magic . . . that all things are possible. 

So here, at the conclusion of 2008, I am grateful for the year I've had, with more good than bad.  I can only rub Ganesh's trunk for luck and hope that 2009 brings more of the same.  That my sense of gratitude and appreciation continues to deepen.  And that is is a good year for you, also.

Happy New Year. 

Comments

[Bruce Small]

Always take the time to smell the roses, and, take the time to appreciate the wonder of life around you. This old world can be pretty ugly at times, but there is still beauty all around us, just waiting for us to notice it.

Happy New Year!

[Emma Dog]

Happy New Year, my friend!
Your words are beautiful, the thoughts they convey even moreso.

[Jim - PRS]

Happy New Year, Lynne.

[Lynne]

Happy new year to you too Lynne

[Becky]

A great post, Lynne, and I think that I sometimes get caught up in some of the details that probably shouldn't matter and should focus on what really does. I hope you have a wonderful 2009!