Happy New Day

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

I hate New Year’s Eve. I’m just going to say it. So excessive. Last year I could barely face it because I had lost someone I really loved and it meant that I was heading into a new year in which that dear person would never live. 2023 was the first year in 15 years that he wouldn’t be a part of any of our new memories and that seemed impossible and unacceptable to me. I felt numb and went into what seemed to be a long, new year disbelieving, depressed and sad. I didn’t even have the energy to hate new years eve last year. I just ignored it so I didn’t have to face what it meant.

But that doesn’t account for all the other years of hostility towards this night of nights. And it doesn’t square with how I feel about new beginnings. Because I adore new hopeful things and the chance to start over. I just don’t like crowds and forced or obligatory frivolity. Introvert problems, I guess. Also, I don’t drink and I abhor the necessity of Spanx. It’s all a no for me. I do, however, find myself in my feelings every year as I reflect back and look forward. So, if you think about it, it’s a good thing I don’t drink because I would be that emotional person at the party that keeps throwing my arm around your shoulder and saying through tears, I really love you man, or drunk dialing folks at 3 a.m. to talk about the meaning of life.

In considering all of this and feeling the usual December 31st dread, I had an alarming thought.

If you look at a year in terms of 365 individual days instead of 12 months, then EVERY NIGHT IS NEW YEAR’S EVE!!

 So that’s terrifying (especially to one’s liver). Also potentially exhausting.

Or maybe, it’s a huge relief.

Stay with me. 

Because under that blueprint, we can all just freaking relax. No new outfit required. No Spanx unless you want to. No fussy appetizers to prepare. No pretending it’s just the funnest night EVER! No compulsory hangover in the morning. The build up, (or countdown) would have to be sustainable. We’re just counting down from 10 for one night at a time, people. Maybe write a list of what you’re going to do tomorrow instead of weighty resolutions that are supposed to turn your life around. As you’re brushing your teeth you can decide, in the next year starting tomorrow, that you’re going to be a better human. When you’re checking the doors and making sure your car is locked, you get to determine in the morning of tomorrow’s new year  if you’re going to work out, or begin writing that book, sleep more, start working on a promotion, put down your phone, do stand up comedy or get better at keeping in touch with your people. As you let the dog out one last time for the night, make a grocery list because the new recipe you’re trying in the next 24 hour block is saucy, spicier and healthier than any you’ve tried before. Think about it. No need to replay Fear and Self Loathing at the end of March because of the goals you didn’t stick to. Everyday is New Years Eve and you’re always on the reflective precipice of your best self/year ever. If you made someone laugh, worked out, had an important conversation, stuck to your diet, sobriety or whatever was on the list that day…success! And if you didn’t, another 365 days starts in the morning. You’re either celebrating, coping or making moves.

I don’t know about you, but for some of us this could be revolutionary. Every night, as we take our magnesium, we can lift our glass of water to a day in which we have lived and tried, maybe just survived, or even had a bit of fun. And then, we can look forward to  the next twenty four 60 minute segments of whatever is our best effort that day. We can go to sleep in a cycle of acceptance, gratitude, anticipation, hope, determination or self forgiveness, which really is something to celebrate. Also, when we open our eyes, we will know where we are, and, (this might be the hard part) we will know exactly what we said and did yesterday. And then we can swing our legs out of bed, put our feet on the floor and do the same or better accordingly, again and again and again. 

This could be either a brilliantly nuanced self improvement/acceptance model, or, a party animal procrastinator’s utopia.

Either way,

(in the tune of Auld Lang Syne),

Let’s drink a cup of kindness, dear and we’ll decide tomorrow.

Photo by Sofia on Unsplash