I don’t really feel much of an affinity toward New Year’s as a holiday. I feel as if the solemnity of January 1st is something ceremonious and only detectable because society chooses it.
I don’t feel as if there is a clean slate, let alone one that required cleaning. The near imposition of the calendar year has required me to slow down and regather the pieces that I already had on hand.
Reflection is a constant for me and it is not something that I can pick up and drop per annual rite. I feel as if I should be able to run through a quaint retrospective montage in my head; however, that’s just not where I am as of now.
As of now, every thought of substance is ricocheting through my brain like a pin ball. I can’t decide if I have something to look forward to, or if I should tend to irons still in the fire.
The calendar does own a piece of the process, however. My lease is coming up, bills need to be paid and planning in both my professional and personal life seem to run concurrent. All that January 1st marks for me is the pre-sneeze pause before the resumption of the December 31st status quo.
If I were to have one wish for this year, it would be for sufficiency. May 2015 be enough.