The real new year

My new year always begins about this time when I begin to believe the days will be longer and warmer. The holidays for me are always filled with regret over things left undone and sentimental longings for a past that never was. I hate the holidays and their darkness.

So as I begin my new year, I look back at the old one as another year where I spent some days seriously, yet spent way too many frivolously; and indulged myself irresponsibly most of the time and much to my great shame.

My goal this year will be to achieve some consistency and balance between my serious and frivolous times; and I must overcome my irresponsibility. I need to be productive again if only to restore my sanity—something I keep repeating, yet keep hoping to achieve.

However, I look at the stacks of books I’ve read over the course of the year, and find myself much pleased, for they represent a tradition which I was not much familiar with—such as Hegel, Marx, Nietzsche, Heidegger; plus I revisited with a new eye books that were gathering dust and almost forgotten, and explored many thinkers and subjects alien to me.

I can truthfully say that I understand better what I believe. Even though that is not the coin of the realm, I am satisfied with it. New projects present themselves for my inspection which is what the Spring and my New Year are all about.

Having easy going fun while doing my own thing in my own time is still my mission statement. My own thing needs to change a little though.