Weren’t we discussing the new year 2017 several blinks ago? We lamented the swiftness of time. It marched with dainty feet. We didn’t feel its passing until the old year’s energy had waned, and finally vanished with a whimper. It had given its all.
For Balou and Russ, our family pups, their time has come. Their loyalty and faithfulness are finally recognized. Goodbye, Year of the Rooster. Your crowing has weakened. Your cock-a-doodle has dudd-ed. Give way to the Dog. Their bark is youthful and strong. Personally, I wish we are back to the Year of the Dragon. My favorite. But time follows universal law. It can only advance, never wind back.
I can’t help it. The end of the year reminds me of a song that gets me wistful. “When you come to the end of the day, and the night calls your worries away, do you ever watch the setting sun, and dream of the things that you might have done?”
Every end of the year we looked forward to the new one, because like a new day, we hoped for a clean slate to start from. Yet when the last days of the old year come rolling in, we realized chances and opportunities presented themselves. But we lacked the courage to take them.
Well, in my mind the years have merged and coalesced. Maybe it’s my advancing age. Days and months turn to years which I can hardly differentiate anymore. The clock has double-timed, always in a hurry. Like you I view the new year with anticipation. Surely, good luck will come and fair winds will blow my way. But I confess, I don’t look for chances anymore. They come when they come. I look for and hope to find my moxie instead. It’s the courage and determination I rely on. It is the fire my instinct depends on to propel me to act when chances do appear in my path.
Regrets? I have them. But their importance is negligible. Maturity has exposed the truth. They are useful in pointing out mistakes. My missteps. I learn important lessons from them. I realize I can’t be everything I want to be. I must pick and choose from the surfeit of good selections presented to me. Some come at the wrong time which stinks. I have learned to kiss them goodbye with the hope something similar will come my way again.
When I started this “writing” journey, I was almost manic in my pursuit of my muse. I relied on her heavily to see me through. But ambition and reality collided. I lost my moxie. Three manuscripts: a fiction novel, a book of poetry, and a memoir, languished in re-write hell. Family health concerns became front and center. As they should.
But my dream has resurfaced, my creative moxie with it. I am revisiting and editing and hoping. In the meantime, something has fallen on my lap, and that moxie has persuaded me to take it. May it bring about the fulfilment of goals.
To borrow from that song I mentioned earlier – I would turn from the world with a smile, for I feel everything was worth my while. As I dream the waning hours away, when I come to the end of the day.
So, for the coming year, I wish for you, my esteemed friends and beloved family, the gift of moxie. May it serve you well. Cheers!