A New Year’s Tradition

As I sit here, ridiculously sick and miserable with a cold – one that began to show itself on Sunday and ramped up on New Year’s Eve, I’m chomping at the bit to do something, anything.

But my nose is plugged, and when it isn’t thumping, my head is fuzzy with pain from the enormous sinus headache. Worse, I’m one-eyed. The virus has invaded my left eyeball, which gives me some moments of sight, intermingled with burning, itching and even weeping large tears in protest when I try to use it.

I cannot read, I cannot focus much on writing, and my Type A personality is screaming for something to do besides sit here and be miserable.

Enter Neil Gaiman.

Each year, he posts a lovely New Year’s post and more importantly, a New Year’s wish.

They are beautiful, magic-making, thought-burbling pieces of love and compassion that he sends out into the universe and they always make me smile, cry, and be inspired.

I don’t read his blog on a regular basis, which is good because he is far too busy to maintain it and write in it more than a few times a year. I don’t worry about missing too many drops of wisdom as a result.

Inevitably though, on New Year’s Day or soon after, I remember to check out his blog and see what he says for New Year’s. And this year, while threatening to NOT write one, he did actually have one for the world:


Be kind to yourself in the year ahead. 

Remember to forgive yourself, and to forgive others. It’s too easy to be outraged these days, so much harder to change things, to reach out, to understand.

Try to make your time matter: minutes and hours and days and weeks can blow away like dead leaves, with nothing to show but time you spent not quite ever doing things, or time you spent waiting to begin.

Meet new people and talk to them. Make new things and show them to people who might enjoy them. 

Hug too much. Smile too much. And, when you can, love.

Thank you, Neil. These words especially ring so true:

Try to make your time matter: minutes and hours and days and weeks can blow away like dead leaves, with nothing to show but time you spent not quite ever doing things, or time you spent waiting to begin.

After I read his New Year’s post, I read the previous one, which he wrote about Harlan Ellison, his friend for 33 years, dying. I remember hearing about his passing and being quite sad. While I have not read his work, I enjoyed the documentary about him – Dreams With Sharp Teeth – very much.

Neil also wrote that Harlan taught him that:

anything more than twelve minutes of personal pain was self-indulgence

Which, if you take cues from the universe as I often do, was something I needed to hear right then.

Time rolls on. And you can tear yourself apart wishing you were loved in the way you have always wanted to be loved, or you can take what you have and make it work.

There are times when I sit here and feel pretty damned sorry for myself – I wonder why my parents or my eldest daughter don’t love or accept me in a way I have always hoped that they would. I fear the future, growing old, losing the husband that I love and who makes my life better each and every day. I fear the intransigence of life that promises no happy endings, only an end in death, which will come to us all.

The reality is, and this is true for all of us, that we can’t go backwards and change the past. That past has helped to shape the people that we are today. It is also up to us to change the future, one moment at a time.

I can wish all day that those people who I love could understand me better, ask questions instead of make assumptions, or accept that I am only in control of this moment on forward – but that isn’t going to change reality.

I’m not in control of them. I’m in control of ME.

Neil’s words are better than any New Year’s wish I could visualize much less write. So I will take these words to heart:


Meet new people and talk to them. Make new things and show them to people who might enjoy them. 

Hug too much. Smile too much. And, when you can, love.

And I hope you will as well.

Happy New Year’s, everyone. May this year be everything (and more) that you have dreamed it would be.

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