I love New Year’s Day. It might be my favorite day of the year. I’m not sure why, but every January One I feel an amazing sense of newness and freedom. I feel that my life is starting over, that I can let go of the past (and any present melodramas I may be involved in) and make a new start. It feels spacious, exciting, unspoiled by the half-successes that slowly accumulate with time. And the cool thing is that this organismic reboot seems to come to me every year. It simply arrives, as if the Kosmos ordered me a present every year from Amazon.com and it downloaded into me while I slept. Yes, it’s definitely a wireless download!
Maybe it’s my perfectionism that loves January 1? Maybe it’s the fact that I am starting out with a clean sheet of life paper and haven’t made any mistakes yet? Maybe my love of New Year’s Day is rooted in my still-present desire to live, as in Groundhog Day, a perfect life? I can remember how, in sixth grade, I’d quickly crumple up my paper if I made a mistake and throw it out so I could start over and hand in a perfect paper! No mistakes for me, I thought, I want a perfect paper! So yes, that is part of me and I’m sure that all these motivations are in the mix, but I think the joy of January 1 comes from a deeper place.
For me, New Year’s Day is an experience of the Divine Presence in the world, of newness and freedom. It’s like a secret sacrament that Spirit has written into the nature of reality. It’s freedom to be and an opportunity to experience pure being, pure life potential. It’s like getting a check from God for one billion life-dollars, and standing on a mountaintop in your favorite place in the world, looking out over your life and wondering how you’re going to spend it. It’s a newness that only comes with a clean sheet of paper, in a world where sheets of paper are long enough for a year and you get exactly one a year. It’s the potential to create life anew, to live in harmony with all that I know to be true. It’s a chance to let all the “shoulds” that no longer fit me, suit me, or serve me simply drop to the ground for recycling. It’s a relief. It’s such a relief to start anew.
And so here we are, on the threshold of the New Year. 2014 stands before us, but it is not quite ready for us. It’s still being tweaked. Or maybe we aren’t quite ready for it? Yes, there are still a few tasks remaining before we reboot ourselves, still a few dances with this good old year that we’ve lived with so long. What do you wish to yet finish? What is there in this year to celebrate, as it closes? What is there to mourn or let go of? The New Year is coming; it’s almost here. Its new life is rushing towards us.