Tomorrow night is New Year’s Eve, and New Decade’s Eve as well. Not my favorite holiday by a long shot.
For many years I lived at the north end of Times Square. I could see the ball fall from my window—and the noise was deafening! But that’s not why this isn’t a favorite holy-day for me. It’s because for many years New Year’s Eve was associated with alcohol, and I don’t do alcohol any more.
Instead, my sweetie and I tend to make a dinner of favorite comfort foods, and do ceremony instead. Burning Bowl, to be exact.
In it, we get settled and still and think (and talk) seriously about all the things we choose to release from the old year. Grudges, resentments, illnesses, you name it. Anything can be released if we’ll get conscious about it.
We make lists and then we burn them in a bowl. Done. Finito. Gone.
Then we get even stiller and more prayerful and begin to write a letter to ourselves from our understanding of God. What will the next year bring? What are we choosing? Why? What actions do we need to take in order to facilitate these choices?
All bets on what’s possible are off. We’re into dream mode, and since we’re dreaming, we might as well dream big. So dream big we do.
It’s freeing and fun. We laugh and joke about our dreams. We bring light hearts to them, and so, we also bring light to our dreams.
All ideas are worth contemplation. You never know. Dreams are stranger than fiction. And who knows? Maybe we’ll create enough inner peace to sway the balance toward peace on earth, goodwill to all.
Happy New Year!