Earnest Wish
How does the year end
How does the year end
How does the year end
I do not care, just let it pass away.
Time is a fickle thing: its worst qualities are also its best. When time passes, it cannot be repossessed. It is gone. Our focus must be on the next slice of time in which we find ourselves and plan for what comes after. All we can do with the past is learn from it, reminisce over it or cringe and shudder from it. We are, broadly speaking, ever really only in one of three states: happy, sad or content. The times we are content, we normally forget quite quickly (I believe this is why time seems to “go by so quickly these days”: it is because our lives are consumed by mundane activities). Happy times are the memories we entertain with glee and joy. Sad times – well, we all know about those times. They are the memories we either necessarily carry around despite their bitter taste, or memories we simply cannot shake, for we are not even the masters of our own synapses. But, if we are honest with ourselves, we acknowledge that all memories, whether we want to forget them or not, are necessities for our being. 2007 was a year I would like to have erased from history, but the lessons learned in the “year of the assassin” might very well be some of the most important ones of my life, therefore I must carry the year around like a slightly-more-than-useless-appendix.
I am very liberal in proclaiming 2007 as having been an awful year. The reason for this is not that I want everyone to be aware of my misery and to feel sorry for me, but because all the people I know and interacted with this year suffered under it. Perhaps my own troubles made me attune to those people closest to me, but I believe genuine frowns outnumbered genuine smiles this year. The year which has just passed was one of death, divorce, pain, confusion and loneliness.
My trails started early in the year with a bad feeling in my gut about my relationship with Michelle. Like something from Aliens, “it” punched through my innards within a few weeks to emerge as something more horrible than I had imagined. Within two months, our relationship was over. However, I continued to cling on for nearly nine months, employing a range of psychological tactics which can be described as nothing else but dirty tricks. My words were not only damaging to her, but also self-destructive. The plethora of conflicting feelings I had about the situation drove me to the brink of depression. But, through the support of family, friends and a psychologist, I emerged on the other side. I did this, however, just too late. While I was still mulling over a revelation I had had one evening, whatever shadow of a relationship (friendly or otherwise) that was left between Michelle and I came to a sullen end. I am now carefully picking through the pieces; those which are worthy keepsakes will be stored safely, while the rest will be thrown out. I declare myself no longer a prisoner of this subject: I am free and I am thankful.
This year I also lost my grandmother, in a manner of speaking. While her body is still with us, her mind is tangled and contorted such that we cannot comprehend her. I am confident that everything is still there: the pieces simply do not fit together like they use to. My parents and I went to visit her again yesterday. She was much better this time. She was awake and very talkative. While her words made no sense to us, they made sense to her; there simply is no longer any sense of chronology. Despite this, for a brief moment I was able to see my grandmother again for whom I had grown up to love. She is still there. It is a bitter-sweet reality, but not a complete loss.
Academics, academics, academics! I want to line up everyone who had gotten me excited about doing honours and tell them exactly what a horrible experience it turned out to be. This was an experience shared by my brothers and sisters of the hallowed institution of the University of Stellenbosch; an angry, drained and powerless mob. But, I cannot do that to everyone who tried to instil a sense of anticipation in me – not so much because of logistics, but because these people really wanted the best for me. I cannot be mad at them for that. Honours simply was unpleasant, but whose fault is that? No-one, everyone and the people in between. While I did not finish my honours in 2007 (strictly speaking), it seems right for it to be so: an academic “set-back” of such proportions is only fitting for such a disastrous year. But, I am keeping moving forward and am anticipation starting with my masters soon...
Other problems were more superficial, but still took its toll. My car was as much trouble as an upset toddler in a supermarket. I had to contend with some mannerisms of friends which I find incomprehensible. I had to struggle through the grey muck that is morality and make some difficult decisions. There was frustration with varsity/departmental politics. And a horde of other things.
But, perhaps, I dwell on all the negative aspects. Few things are purely black or white. Like any year, 2007 had some positive fallout. On a personal level there was the realisation of the great support network I have in my family and friends. I made new friends and strengthened other friendships. I learned life lessons and I learned about myself. On a non-personal level, there were the promises of marriages, new life and new beginnings. For a select few, 2007 will even be remembered as a good year. It is not for me to take that away from anybody. But, growing into the role of narcissist, I am most aware of myself (and those [whom I allow] around me).
I like my rituals and perceptions. I tend to personify a year as a creature: a malicious beast tearing away at the populace, an angel which folds its wings around the frail populace or some mischievous monkey of which we do not know whether to be happy or angry with. For someone who is not superstitious (and, indeed, does not even consider the Georgian calendar as the “real” calendar), I place much stock in the Earth's rendezvous with that arbitrary point in space that is January the first. But I think its OK; while other people are out getting trashed, I reflect on what is important and plan for the future.
Those who have been reading this blog for a few years will know that the composition of this blog entry is accompanied by A Long December by the Counting Crows. Every year I make a silent wish (for myself and those around me and in my life) that “this year will be better than the last”. Last year's hope blew up in my face, but I kept looking forward to the next opportunity (now) that I'll have to ask for better days. Asking, after all, costs nothing. Also, this year that phrase is less of an recited incantation: rather, it is offered as a real, sincere prayer to Ha Shem that He will guide and protect all of us. Pain and bad times won't go away, but, for all those who survived the year, it rings true that “a tree is not made to bare fruit which it cannot carry”.
It is not my intention to spoil the new year with high expectations, but if we do not ask, we shall not receive.
In this year I plan to grow and continue healing. Whether this is your goal or not, I hope that you will also experience these things. May your year be better than the last. Go out and make a difference.
Blessings for the New Year.
Baruch Ha Shem!
How does the year end
How does the year end
I do not care, just let it pass away.
Time is a fickle thing: its worst qualities are also its best. When time passes, it cannot be repossessed. It is gone. Our focus must be on the next slice of time in which we find ourselves and plan for what comes after. All we can do with the past is learn from it, reminisce over it or cringe and shudder from it. We are, broadly speaking, ever really only in one of three states: happy, sad or content. The times we are content, we normally forget quite quickly (I believe this is why time seems to “go by so quickly these days”: it is because our lives are consumed by mundane activities). Happy times are the memories we entertain with glee and joy. Sad times – well, we all know about those times. They are the memories we either necessarily carry around despite their bitter taste, or memories we simply cannot shake, for we are not even the masters of our own synapses. But, if we are honest with ourselves, we acknowledge that all memories, whether we want to forget them or not, are necessities for our being. 2007 was a year I would like to have erased from history, but the lessons learned in the “year of the assassin” might very well be some of the most important ones of my life, therefore I must carry the year around like a slightly-more-than-useless-appendix.
I am very liberal in proclaiming 2007 as having been an awful year. The reason for this is not that I want everyone to be aware of my misery and to feel sorry for me, but because all the people I know and interacted with this year suffered under it. Perhaps my own troubles made me attune to those people closest to me, but I believe genuine frowns outnumbered genuine smiles this year. The year which has just passed was one of death, divorce, pain, confusion and loneliness.
My trails started early in the year with a bad feeling in my gut about my relationship with Michelle. Like something from Aliens, “it” punched through my innards within a few weeks to emerge as something more horrible than I had imagined. Within two months, our relationship was over. However, I continued to cling on for nearly nine months, employing a range of psychological tactics which can be described as nothing else but dirty tricks. My words were not only damaging to her, but also self-destructive. The plethora of conflicting feelings I had about the situation drove me to the brink of depression. But, through the support of family, friends and a psychologist, I emerged on the other side. I did this, however, just too late. While I was still mulling over a revelation I had had one evening, whatever shadow of a relationship (friendly or otherwise) that was left between Michelle and I came to a sullen end. I am now carefully picking through the pieces; those which are worthy keepsakes will be stored safely, while the rest will be thrown out. I declare myself no longer a prisoner of this subject: I am free and I am thankful.
This year I also lost my grandmother, in a manner of speaking. While her body is still with us, her mind is tangled and contorted such that we cannot comprehend her. I am confident that everything is still there: the pieces simply do not fit together like they use to. My parents and I went to visit her again yesterday. She was much better this time. She was awake and very talkative. While her words made no sense to us, they made sense to her; there simply is no longer any sense of chronology. Despite this, for a brief moment I was able to see my grandmother again for whom I had grown up to love. She is still there. It is a bitter-sweet reality, but not a complete loss.
Academics, academics, academics! I want to line up everyone who had gotten me excited about doing honours and tell them exactly what a horrible experience it turned out to be. This was an experience shared by my brothers and sisters of the hallowed institution of the University of Stellenbosch; an angry, drained and powerless mob. But, I cannot do that to everyone who tried to instil a sense of anticipation in me – not so much because of logistics, but because these people really wanted the best for me. I cannot be mad at them for that. Honours simply was unpleasant, but whose fault is that? No-one, everyone and the people in between. While I did not finish my honours in 2007 (strictly speaking), it seems right for it to be so: an academic “set-back” of such proportions is only fitting for such a disastrous year. But, I am keeping moving forward and am anticipation starting with my masters soon...
Other problems were more superficial, but still took its toll. My car was as much trouble as an upset toddler in a supermarket. I had to contend with some mannerisms of friends which I find incomprehensible. I had to struggle through the grey muck that is morality and make some difficult decisions. There was frustration with varsity/departmental politics. And a horde of other things.
But, perhaps, I dwell on all the negative aspects. Few things are purely black or white. Like any year, 2007 had some positive fallout. On a personal level there was the realisation of the great support network I have in my family and friends. I made new friends and strengthened other friendships. I learned life lessons and I learned about myself. On a non-personal level, there were the promises of marriages, new life and new beginnings. For a select few, 2007 will even be remembered as a good year. It is not for me to take that away from anybody. But, growing into the role of narcissist, I am most aware of myself (and those [whom I allow] around me).
I like my rituals and perceptions. I tend to personify a year as a creature: a malicious beast tearing away at the populace, an angel which folds its wings around the frail populace or some mischievous monkey of which we do not know whether to be happy or angry with. For someone who is not superstitious (and, indeed, does not even consider the Georgian calendar as the “real” calendar), I place much stock in the Earth's rendezvous with that arbitrary point in space that is January the first. But I think its OK; while other people are out getting trashed, I reflect on what is important and plan for the future.
Those who have been reading this blog for a few years will know that the composition of this blog entry is accompanied by A Long December by the Counting Crows. Every year I make a silent wish (for myself and those around me and in my life) that “this year will be better than the last”. Last year's hope blew up in my face, but I kept looking forward to the next opportunity (now) that I'll have to ask for better days. Asking, after all, costs nothing. Also, this year that phrase is less of an recited incantation: rather, it is offered as a real, sincere prayer to Ha Shem that He will guide and protect all of us. Pain and bad times won't go away, but, for all those who survived the year, it rings true that “a tree is not made to bare fruit which it cannot carry”.
It is not my intention to spoil the new year with high expectations, but if we do not ask, we shall not receive.
In this year I plan to grow and continue healing. Whether this is your goal or not, I hope that you will also experience these things. May your year be better than the last. Go out and make a difference.
Blessings for the New Year.
Baruch Ha Shem!
posted by phantom-99w at 02:16
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