i read the following before i went to maine. i rode to philly content with the idea that i would spend new year's eve wrapped in my sleeping bag in the asheville mountains. i would stare up at the starry skies at midnight, making wishes on falling stars and staring at the celestial beauty of the fingernail moon and the visible glow of mercury, venus, mars, jupiter and saturn. all together at once against the winter, black backdrop. reminding me of my size and {in} significance in this great world.
i have always thought of new year's as a disappointment. wanting to get all dressed up for some fancy party. to dance and schmooze and be kissed passionately at midnight. each year's ball drop, another painful reminder that i haven't been picked. that i am not good enough yet. but these are old thoughts. and there is no room for them in the days to come. oh-nine is going to be the year of gratitude. a time to look ahead to all the potential that lies in a single breath. the simple fact that i continue to wake each morning. it's a gift. one i will not be quick to squander.
and so while my mind is set on hiking in the western wilderness of north carolina, filling my empty belly with tupelo honey sweet potato pancakes and coffee, or perhaps dancing away the evening in a sea of strangers, bass pumping through my chest, my heart brings me back to protective thoughts. you are loved. so be with those you love. my girls. where ever this year may take us, let it be with good health, good humor, and great joy.
grace & love.
"I’ve always held the belief that however you spend your New Year’s Celebration, it will be reflected in the year ahead. If you have the dream of traveling, I suggest packing your bags and having them with you when the clock strikes 12. Really show the universe that your intention is more than a thought. It is an action!
Not being one to watch TV, the turn of the century had the greatest impact on me. While my family gathered in the living room to toast champagne with Dick Clark, I snuck out into the fields surrounding my Mom’s house and spoke quietly with the skies. If Y2K is true and everything blacks out and the technological world is to end, I’d rather be in the protective custody of Nature than surrounded by all of our man made hindrances. Hearing my family countdown with glee from inside the house first made me feel like I was about to miss something. “C’mon Universe,” I said aloud. “I’m here and I’m hoping. Though I’m not sure what I’m hoping for… nothing and everything at the same time. I’ve got no wish. I don’t need fireworks or a [cute boy] to kiss. Just recognition that whatever I’m doing with my life is… working.”
Then, 3… 2… 1… Happy New Year. Auld Lang Syne erupts in the house and there’s not a peep outside. No breezing in the trees. No sound anywhere in nature. The witch’s winter tit was so cold and solid and still that the fog of my breathe hung around like smoke billowing from a cigarette in a library. I didn’t drink my champagne. I just kept looking up. And then for whatever magical conclusion, my experience was blessed with the sight of a shooting star. As the tail of the meteor made a scratch across the dark canvas and faded, a joy filled tear picked up where it left off and carved a frozen path down my cheek. I said thank you and threw my champagne glass so high into the sky I could not see the arc before it fell deep into the woods. That year I carried with me a confidence that wherever I traveled and at whatever expense, I was doing exactly as I should; existing in harmony with everything and everyone else."
-j.mraz
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