It’s odd, I have been living the calendar’ed ‘one day ahead’ of home for 262 days now.
Yet not until today, New Year’s day, do I feel the implications and even cliches that have come to be this living one day ahead.
The concept that we are assured tomorrow because it’s already being lived in Australia takes on a whole different shine for me this morning.
I feel hopeful in that; and isn’t that the way we should feel on the dawn of a new year, hopeful?
I feel as if I am pulling those I love and cherish into this day, this year, because I am already here, I am already living it and can say
‘see! I’m here! It is beautiful, the birds sing, the flowers bloom, the sun shines and we get to be here! Come along, let’s do this!’
I am proof.
In coming to Australia-this monstrous decision to see what we could make of this next for our lives-I felt a bit like a bridge. Not to being grandiosely egocentric, but a connection point; no matter how small, significant nonetheless.
I keep wanting for what this means in the actual, but understanding of this sense, this concept hasn’t gone beyond the imagine I give it.
Now in this breaking dawn of 2014, and the breaking dawn of my second year here, I feel bridge-like even moreso because of this ‘day ahead’ perception.
I have no better concept of what being a bridge means for my wimpy limbs and anxious brain; I certainly have no strength or will of my own to carry passage for anything other than what my own self can pack. But I do still imagine. I do still dream of what this means, for even my wimpy limbs.
If it is wax, in wax I make a bridge, create a connection, build communities that travel back and forth to grow and connect, then perhaps this is enough. A small thing that makes a big difference. Perhaps I’ll never know. But perhaps I will.
This is today’s hope that keeps me continuing.
and days like today.
Happy New Year America
Happy New Year Australia
Happy New Year from New Zealand
Poem to wonder
The sun cracked through the cloud dappled sky
turning white tuffs to pink
nearly electric magenta.
As the birds awake and say hello
seeking seed left behind in my last minute good night to 2013
I too awake
hello to day
my own seed sung
in joy to the
To think, the hills can be dressed in such splendor.
To think, I can watch them walk down the aisle to day
and follow them out to the full Light.