January 2025

We end each year like race horses in the home stretch, traveling to the big city to see the larger than life Christmas tree and lights, over-shopping at the department stores ‘cause the windows were so beautiful, decorating the house; tinsel and lights on the tree, the fireplace mantel, the wreaths on the front door, the candles on the dining room table. Then there’s the Christmas cards to people we haven’t heard from all year, not to mention the little bonuses for the service people. With no time left, we find ourselves preparing the guest room for barely tolerated relatives and throwing elaborate Christmas dinners and parties. We run ourselves ragged over the holidays and knock on the door of the poor house to reserve a room while we’re at it. 

Finally, the last flourish of the season, the New Years Eve party. The fanfare, the sparkly dresses, the drunken resolves for next year. Auld Lang Syne sung heartily while we ask ourselves and each other: ‘what do those words mean?’ We invoke resolutions to lose weight, eat healthy, drink less, travel more, be stronger, take less crap from the boss or the spouse or the kids. Contrarily, NYE likewise sparks our sense of guilt; apologize more, be nicer. So Catholic. So Jewish. So blameworthy of everything and everyone, whatever religion or atheism, even the Druids had a renewal ritual. And now it’s January. 

January is all about a fresh start. I, on the other hand, see it as a time of contemplation, relaxation, the quiet refurbishment of the body and spirit. There are those diligent souls who join a gym and feverishly attend three times a week, sweating profusely and swallowing ibuprofen like skittles. Being ordinary mortals, this resolve generally lasts until Super Bowl Sunday then life goes back to ‘normal’ while the gym membership quietly expires. I say, save your money and stay home, contemplate your navel. 

All this new year’s industriousness seems fiendish and cruel; better to spend an afternoon talking with old friends over a coffee and crumb cake at the local cafe, commiserating about the long ago times we actually enjoyed hiking trails around the Cotswolds, climbing the Alps, skiing the Dolomites. That was then. We were young and strong and red cheeked and this is now. Now, use January to walk through town, visit the library and come home with an armful of books, stoke the logs in the fireplace, let January breathe and leave the resolutions alone, push them over into February and let March roar in like a lion. Start the new year then if you must.