Everyone keeps telling me “Happy new year!” or some sort of variant, and it’s all I can do not to do a double take. New year? What new year? Who says? In some ways, it also feels like a birthday,when you check to see if you feel older. It doesn’t feel like a new year.
Time is a confusing thing. I begin to suspect, scientific disputes to the contrary ignored, that one can’t really measure time. I find it rather hard to imagine that seconds or minutes or hours or days or months or seasons or years is sufficient to really measure time. . .but that probably means I’m trying to say something I’m not saying. The fullness and experience of time does not seem to be contained within its technical passage.
I doubt that last sentence cleared the matter up any for you, but it satisfied me.
At this time last year, I was just beginning to try to get started volunteering at the local hospital, with some vague hope that would lead to a clearer understanding of what I was supposed to be doing with myself at this point in my life—and if it didn’t, well, I couldn’t make matters worse by helping people out, right?
In retrospect, of course, it the was the pebble that started the avalanche, the spark that started the explosion. So to speak.
The most absurd thing, through it all, was that this started a year ago. It all seems so familiar, that, like the greeting of the new year, I feel confused. Was it really ONLY a year ago this started? It seems it ought to have been two years ago—or perhaps even three. I seem to have had one year stretch out across many, only then to shove many years into one.
I don’t feel particularly different. . .only, imagining myself in this position, a year ago, seemed so foreign, so alien, so incomprehensible.
And then people ask me what plans I have for the rest of my life, and seem surprised when I say, “Life changes too fast; I’ll deal with it when it gets here.”
It does, though. The entire universe can get turned upside down in a day. A year can seem to hold more than the rest of your previous life. Trying to plan it begins to seem the ultimate silliness.
Some people seem to imply that looking back over the years can let you see your life-trail making sense. Somehow that seems as utterly confusing as looking to the future. It seems all we really do have is now.