Our New Year’s Eve was a real bust. The accessories above were purchased after the fact (and at a super sale cost) to initiate a do over. We have to start better, I told myself. I try not to add “or we’re doomed.” I always put too much weight on step one. I forget the follow up step should be/can be just as effective. Left foot stomp. Pivot in new direction; 2018 will not mirror the disconnect of the evening’s failures.
Less than a week later, I see the humor in its all over pathetic-ness. There was at least one serious sore throat and a potential one, one irrational meltdown, one round of the silent treatment, the saddest homemade soup ever created, and the strange urge to select to watch, within the thousands of options in our combined streaming services, Julie and Julia.
The more serious sore throat was mine, which is why we ended up staying in instead of joining family for the city wide celebration downtown. Insert hand raising blonde emoji for the irrational meltdown. It was instigated by the flash-warning thought that I might be blowing what could possibly be our last New Year’s Eve without kids. Note the use of “might” and “possibly.” I don’t need set in stone to freak out. A true gift, I know. The silent treatment was him (sorry, babe) but I get it, the tone of the night had already been well established as rocky. After two failed pho to go attempts, I announced I could easily make soup at home. I had chicken broth, a few leeks and a squash I had chopped four days earlier plus salt and pepper. He’d already had pizza, so I didn’t have to carry the weight of preparing dinner for two at time like this. Perhaps inspired by what I thought was an inspired soup and the fact that I was unchaperoned in my choice, I turned on Julie and Julia. The riveting film about the creation and use of, you guessed it, a cook book. Watching, I quickly realized my soup was lacking butter. And flavor. I was later joined by my silent companion and together we took shifts napping our way into the New Year. At 12:15 I woke up to the end credits, roused my couch-neighbor, crawled to bed and grumbled, “Happy New Year.”
This is how I know my husband is a saint. I am sure any other cranky human with foiled New Year’s plans, could have really lost it at the sound of Meryl Streep/Julia Child’s high octave, exceptionally enthusiastic vocal styling. It’s delightfully a lot when you know what’s coming and way over the top if you don’t. He never made a comment. He did inquire about the name of the movie, so I am certain the intentionally silent portion of the evening had ended. He didn’t even leave the room. He stuck it out, albeit with the help of some sleep, but God bless him nonetheless.
New Year’s morning I woke up desperate to find an empty journal and record the start of 2018. A clean slate to remove the bad banner of the night before. I told my husband that I needed to do something immediately to really let it soak in. When I asked how he was going to mark the day, he said, “I’ll just write the date sometime today, and then I’ll know it’s a new year.” Simple. Unburdened. It is a clear illustration of the differing ways we think. Mine, steeped in overarching meanings and rituals to make definitive moments, he in practicality and clarity, moments are because they already are. It is highly admirable.
These are the words that came to mind to mark New Year’s Day 2018.
Resolve|Reduce|Review|Rewrite|Reconvene
Somewhat out of order. I suppose review should have been first, but I realized long ago that I do not think linearly. Also somewhat repetitive, but I realized long ago that repetition is the key to learning. And I like resolve over resolution in terms of “to decide firmly to do something or not.”
Resolve- What will I hold tight too? What do I dismiss or dismantle or even absolutely destroy? What will I make this year, without the imposed pressure, but actively pursue and create as loudly or as quietly as I need to, everyday to reinforce the resolve?
Reduce- What was too prominent in 2017, and however many years before that, that needs cut out this year? To reduce the clutter of mind/sound/atmosphere to make more room in my heart/mind/eye/life to see and hold the resolve?
Review- What was gained, lost, renewed, challenged in 2017? Where was the strength gained and the fissures found? Where do I start 2018, personally and professionally?
Rewrite- It is not permanent. To write over to the bad patterns, habits, communication styles. Start fresh.
Reconvene- What do I return to? Who do I return to? Where are the meeting places as husband and wife? My meeting place with God? Where is the substance coming from? To go back to the altars, or touch points, of movement, change, grace, reflection and be propelled forward.
and Ritual- What gets kept? What gets established?
I don’t have all of the answers to my questions lined up yet, but I feel confidant in their existence and of what they’ll lead me to.
In summation, do overs are possible (review, rewrite, reconvene, reduce) and fresh starts can happen on footstep number 2 and 3 and so on (resolve, resolute). The point is to keep moving. Oh, and refuse to hang up the banner of foreboding doom.
“The end of a matter is better than its beginning.”- Ecclesiastes 7:8
PS. 2018 has recovered. I have not made that soup again. And I think my husband liked the movie by the time we watched the slept-through ending again the next day. Although we did talk through most of it.
mgnlaurel 