I have learnt not to make promises just because year changes from one to another. I have learnt not to make plans just because of a new year. Above all, I have learnt both would be pointless. One cannot plan life. When the year 2016 changed to 2017, we raised a glass, me and my dear husband, and were grateful for all the things 2016 brought to us. Not all things were pleasant, easy, or something we would have chosen to live, experience. But I am certain those things were the ones that made the rest even more dear, precious, and beautiful.
A year has 365 days, mostly. It's a lot, when you think about it. At least when you cannot plan your next day. When you don't know if there would be a next day. To celebrate life is to give it a change. Normally we are too busy trying to define, mould or change our life to stop and take a deep breath or three, and listen. Just let it be and become what it should - or should have been long ago, given the chance.
No, I am not talking about making your life one big mindfulness exercise. I am just thinking aloud. My birthday is in January. I have used to changing my age around the same time the Earth gets older. It might lessen the glamour of new beginnings, being a January girl. At the same time, it makes them essential and natural part of my life. And thinking back, about last year... Oh, my.
In the New Year 2016 I didn't guess that in two weeks’ time I would lie in a hospital bed wondering if this would be it. I didn't see that I would be told I could never again continue my precious PhD about the Urban Culture in the Early Iron Age Northern Israel and surroundings, because my twisted genes and rare diseases have destroyed my sight, my brain, my body. I totally could have not predicted my ability to speak and write in Finnish would vanish in an overnight, one bright, sunny September day. Nor did I foresee cerebral stroke, well... A lot of things. But. I had no idea I would also enjoy memorable shooting session with Miss Windy Shop, I would design my first Varalusikka jewellery (or that soon later my husband needed to take the responsibility and make Varalusikka to work because I had not strength for it), I would discover that even if I have not strength for painting, I could use my iPhone and "paint" photos and discover a whole new world of Instagram.
You see? It's rather pointless to plan to ahead when your body does not speak the same language as your mind. (In my mind I would be writing my dissertation right now, instead of lying in bed, cannula in my arm and tubes saying drop, drop, and writing to you there -hi- about new years.) But even if your body is not as broken as mine, it might be the same. Carpe diem, they say. I don't. I say, let the moment go, let it be, let it come, and enjoy it as it is. Above all, remember, not all moments in life cannot be lovely pink rose petal dance, but it's worth living anyway. Because it might well be the moment of utter misery that is leading to the lovely pink rose petal dance moment. I want to believe it, anyway.
