I love the thought of a New Year. I love the notion that the good, the
bad and the ugly of the past year are behind me and I can start on a
new slate.
I love the energy of the first few days of the New year as I try to
plan the year and luxuriate on the purity of my vast, virgin canvass.
In many ways, it is like a new birth.
Unfortunately, birth precedes death as surely as day precedes night.
Since the way of nature is the way of life, then a New Year also
serves to warn us of lurking death.
Every New Year day means we are one year older—irrespective of what
time of the year we are born—and thus nearer the grave.
It also means, for those afraid of aging, an extra number they would
rather do without. For the tardy and careless, it means time is
running out on the things they have left undone.
Many of these are illusions because life is a continuum really and
there is no actual break either in the physical or the spiritual at
midnight.
One second leads to another and an incident is usually a consequence
of an earlier action. The consequences of what you do on December 31
will follow you into January 1. So the calendar we follow is man made
and has no bearing on nature.
People will achieve what they are meant to achieve and die when their
time is up irrespective of calendar.
On a lovely cold Saturday afternoon here is a#CuriosMindasking:
What would You Do….If You Were Told You Had 6 Months To Live?
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