We stopped short of any wishes for the new year. It was as if we did not trust the process, the ending of one and the beginning of another.
And who would wonder with the tumult of 2016, a year of unimaginable upheaval and relentless energy that shows no sign of stopping.
We could not think of what was safe to say, not out of a concern for political correctness—either one of us would be hard put to even define that–we were wary of what to wish.
What will change the energy?
Better to ask what will change us. How do we change the vibration of bitter divisiveness into thoughtful discourse, no matter what side of the chasm we stand.
I wish I knew, and I suspect my neighbor does, too.
It seems best to begin where we are, as we are–at an end–of a year, anyway. I always begin with the “big picture,” frequently revisiting Robert Frost’s “Fire and Ice”:
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
The number of 24 hour segments—days—that total 365 are the possibilities of 2017, each its own daily slate.
We begin with being “nailed to the present moment” (Pema Chödrön). In that, we trust.