Dear New Years,
You are the holiday of the year that lies the most. You promise us a new start, forgotten events and life transformations. You give us false hope … and I hate you for it.
You seem to be tangled up in superstition and tradition – so much so that we can no longer see the reality of you. You’re just a day with a new surname. Yet we make promises to you that we can change those bad habits we have deeply ingrained in us.
Should I be concerned that people, year after year, trust you to change their lives, or should I have my heart warmed to the fact that people still believe in the “mystic powers” you somehow have?
Resolutions. That’s what we call them. Decisions to better our lives which, in most cases, we have no intention (and sometimes ability) to keep. If this the case, what’s the point in making them, I ask you?
I do admit, though, that many of the celebrations you attract are quite spectacular. The New York celebrations, the fireworks on Sydney Harbour bridge. A lot of it is simply stunning. Some of it not so much, but that’s not so commercialised, is it?
When, too, did it become a necessity to find someone to kiss at the strike of midnight? How on earth does that signify how you will spend the remainder of the year? Do you mean to tell me, that what we do at the strike of midnight will somehow be the thing that I do for the remainder of the year? So my friend, Maude, locks lips with a guy named Henry at the stroke of midnight, and all of sudden she has fused herself to him for the remainder of the year? How is she supposed to do any work? Of course, I am being facetious, but you see the ridiculousness that you encourage within the population of the world.
Though I agree that the beginning of a New Year should be celebrated, I do not believe in the ridiculous behaviours of resolutions and midnight kisses. Though others are convinced of you and these behaviours, and I encourage them to pursue whatever they believe in, you will never hear me make such promises to you.
I am goals girl. I make no promises, I only work toward something that I would feel proud to achieve by the end of the year.
So, New Years, you are puzzling to me.
You are universally loved.
Shine brightly tomorrow.
Don’t forget social media, guys!
See you Tuesday!