???????????????????????????????Does the very idea of a “new year” give you just a little taste of hope?  We draw a totally artificial and arbitrary line in time, then celebrate a totally made-up passage from the old to the new, and, in the process, remind ourselves that something different is always possible.

New Year celebration is almost embarrassingly obvious and trite–or so it usually seems to me.  But I think the truth is that I need to be embarrassed about this.

I mean, it is actually true that each day is a brand new day.  And that the only moment that we have is this moment.  And so on.  And on.  And on.  The triteness of the sentiments–or maybe it is the triteness of how they are presented?–so often blinds me to the truth that is there in the very ordinariness of these things.

The universe is endlessly cyclical.  It seems to contain a relentless entropy.  Human error and the ravenous appetite of the powers and principalities are real.  And there is no exit from all of this but the one common exit of death.

And yet, this whole reality is also shot through with countless moments of newness.   I can see new cells growing and healing the cut I inflicted on myself in the kitchen the other day.  The orchids quietly flower.  Clouds come and go.  Thoughts and perceptions assemble themselves in new ways, even perhaps with new ingredients.

I am finding hope in the tiny possibilities of newness.  And just now I find that I am ready to be renewed. I am ready to pay attention to the possibilities, and to nurture some of the tiny seeds that are –suddenly– here.  I am ready for some newness, and allowing hope some room.

In 2013, many things came to completion and/or an end in my life.  For me, the year was largely devoted to allowing the old to come to an end, and to lying fallow.  The one big exception has been beginning to paint in watercolor and acrylic.  You may have noticed my cointinuing absence; I know that it surprised some.

Now I am ready to cross over into newness — slowly, if possible!

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