New Year's Eve

New Year’s Eve. Another trip around the sun, another four seasons, another 365 sunrises, another 365 sunsets. A time for celebration and funny little party whistles that rarely work, but also for quiet reflection and not-so-often-fulfilled promises to ourselves.

And for The Honeymooners and Twilight Zone marathons, of course.

I’ve noticed that a lot of people have started to balk at the idea of the new year. They say nothing is actually different but the number on the calendar and that the odds of any resolution to change your life that you might make when the clock strikes midnight coming to fruition is dependent on nothing but your own…well…resolve.

All of that is true in a sense. People often like to look outward for the thing that will drag them up from the muck in which they dwell: their vices, their habits, their shitty situations. But as far as I can tell there is no magical North Star out there to guide them to the promised land. No one is coming to save you. It’s all on you, baby. Like they tell anyone in the throes of alcoholism or any other addiction, “You have to want to change.”   

I can’t argue with any of that, but I can argue with anyone who says that New Year’s means nothing at all.

Just ask this man.

We are so often caught up in the momentum of our own lives that we lose track of all the yesterdays we’ve stumbled through. There are bills to pay, obligations to meet, responsibilities to adhere to. We have jobs and families and pet dogs and car payments, text messages and e-mails and Twitter notifications. It’s exceedingly difficult to stop and breathe, to step back and see it all at once. I think the celebration of the new year is as good a time as any for that.

Sure, you can hypothetically do it any day, but New Year’s Day is a milestone we all share, the grand marker of time which can be traced back for millennia. It makes sense that we might want to stop for a moment as the ball drops, just before time pushes us forward into another solar waltz, hurtling unrestrained toward the unknown, ever-forward toward inevitable death. Yes, it’s coming for you, too.

So I say keep making New Year’s resolutions and let the balkers balk. Take time today to remember the year gone by. Think of how you’ve grown, what you’ve gained, those you’ve lost. Think forward to how you’d like to grow, what you’d like to gain, those you’re yet to lose.  

Remember: all traditions, just like all resolutions, are silly unless you are committed to them and you yourself bring them to life.

Cheers and Happy New Year.