“I keep turning over new leaves, and spoiling them, as I used to spoil my copybooks; and I make so many beginnings there never will be an end. (Jo March)”
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
My Dad was desperate to retire. He wouldn’t admit it, but work was challenging and he wasn’t coping. He had many plans for his retirement years. But he was also anxious. After all, he’d worked since he was 16.
On his last day at work I gave him a card. “How exciting,” I’d written. “To be on the cusp of a new season, a new chapter in your life!”
For months, even years later, in deep thought, he’d often say to me, quite out of the blue, “I’ve thought a lot about what you wrote in my card. A new chapter … I’ve got to make the most of it.”
After he died I found that card with a few other precious things he’d kept in his bedside table.
So, a new season? A new chapter?
It’s still January. Indulge me.
Is 11:59pm on 31 December 2019 that different from 00:01am on 1 January 2020?
No, of course not. It’s totally arbitrary and rather silly. OR … it makes complete sense. I think God weaves His world around these human-made arbitrary constructs and allows us this fresh start – seasons are His business.
Perhaps it’s time to draw a line under a week of unhealthy eating and drinking? Maybe now you’ll find fresh energy to make that difficult phone call? Perhaps you’ll finally hand in that resignation, book those flights, kick that habit, go for that run?
New Year, new day, new season, start of a school term …
All wonderful pregnant moments of hope.
Keeping in perspective how blessed and privileged we are to be healthy, have wonderful family and friends, a warm bed and a roof over our heads, to live in a safe country, have full tummies and money in the bank, I have to say that 2019 was an extraordinarily difficult year for Hubby and me. We did 2019 on our knees for sure.
In 2020 I feel like I’ve slowly let out a huge pilate-esque deep breath after holding it in for a whole year. And with it, PEACE. PHEW!
Picture me, a 3-inch mouse with little legs, slender whiskers and tiny claws. I’ve spent the year slipping, dangling, scrambling and jumping to get myself up the vertical side of a human-sized flight of steps (the deep-step kind even human-sized creatures have to fight gravity to mount). I’ve finally made it over the crest onto the flat surface of the next step and I’m looking forward to some horizontal time, some flat, easier, even boring time so that I can recoup and build up my strength before I have to climb another step.
That’s all I ask from 2020.
Not too much.
And I have to say that flat, boring, horizontal time fills me with such excitement, I could burst!
And to you, my readers (Are there still any out there? Apart from Smiler, who gets 10 points for always commenting on my blogs) a pinch and a punch and a toast to you in 2020.
God Bless you.
P.s. (My sketch above) Me, the tiny mouse – no small people jokes please.
P.p.s. 2020 blogs coming up: ‘How I overcame my sleep issues’ and many more…
P.p.p.s. (left) Our youngest niece started nursery today. Apparently it went well although you can see from the photo that she does not pose for the camera. She dresses herself and apparently insisted on wearing a tie. Photo credit: my dear sister-in-law.
P.p.p.p.s. Some things will remain the same in 2020 – I’m still doing smile therapy. It helps me to laugh at myself.
P.p.p.p.p.s. One of my favourite ways to mark the turn of a new year (new decade even) is to watch all the Christmas specials on BBC iPlayer – I can totally vouch for the Call the Midwife special. What can you recommend?
P.p.p.p.p.p.s. I’m writing my 2020 manifesto as we speak (So to speak … you know what I mean! I’m not actually writing it because I’m typing this … whatever! And now I’m talking to myself. I’ve been watching too much Jodie Whittaker in Doctor Who (2019) – Lord help me!)