pjthompson | Entries tagged with new year

Random quote of the day:

“i don’t pay attention to the
world ending.
it has ended for me
many times
and began again in the morning.”

—Nayyirah Waheed, from Salt

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this random quote of the day do not necessarily reflect the views of the poster, her immediate family, Desus and Mero, Beyoncé, or the Marine Corps Marching Band. They do, however, sometimes reflect the views of the Cottingley Fairies.

I’ll not do one of those traditional end of the year, end of the decade round ups, if that's all right with you. (I hear sighs of relief.)

The last decade has been challenging, both good and bad. I seem to have spent much of it worrying. There were some positive accomplishments, a bunch of negative lack-of-accomplishment, there were losses, and there were gains—sometimes hiding inside of losses. Still, I’m a hell of a lot better off than many people so it’s churlish to complain.

I’ll not say good riddance to the teens. Mostly because all those years went into making me who I am today. They are a part of my life, good and ill, and although I have moments where I’m not at all happy with who I am, I’d say I have more good days than bad. I’m rediscovering parts of myself that had been on hold for a very long time. That includes exploring the shadow domains, a necessary step in any journey of self-discovery.

But there was joy, too, bright bubbles strung on gossamer, rainbow-shining for moments before popping in effervescent bursts that smell surprisingly of roses.

Oh, sorry. There were also bursts of bad poetry that showed up at random moments.

I’m grateful, is what I’m trying to say. Thank you (You, whoever You are) for my life, whether it’s in tatters or shining cloth. I try to remember every day to be grateful for the blessings I’ve had. Not to minimize the bad stuff or to say to myself I shouldn’t feel sadness—that, too, has to be felt and explored fully—but to acknowledge it’s all a part of any life, the turning of the Wheel.

So goodbye to all those I’ve loved and left behind in the teens. I’ll see you again someday—but not too soon, I hope, if you don’t mind me saying so. I still have a few things left I’d like to accomplish. I hope I’m not presuming too much. There are still ten hours left until midnight as I write this. I’m not out of the woods—the teens—yet.

But I’m hopeful I’ll make it. And even if I don’t, I’m grateful for the time I’ve had.

Happy New Decade, everyone.

Random quote of the day:

“Tender words we spoke
to one another
are sealed
in the secret vaults of heaven.
One day like rain,
they will fall to earth
and grow green
all over the world.”

—Jelaluddin Rumi,
“Tender Words”

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this random quote of the day do not necessarily reflect the views of the poster, her immediate family, Siegfried and Roy, Leonard Maltin, or the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. They do, however, sometimes reflect the views of the Cottingley Fairies.

Mirrored from Better Than Dead.

I used to have a ritual I performed every new year’s eve and new year’s day. I’ve written about it before, but I haven’t practiced this ritual for some years now. Basically, I used to burn my regrets before the stroke of midnight sometime on new year’s eve, and on new year’s day I would release my hope into the world. How did I do this? By writing regrets and hopes on little slips of paper.

Back when I had a functioning (and real) fireplace, I used to build a nice fire and toss the regrets into it. It was quite satisfying to watch them burn. The burning didn’t “cure” the negative voices that brought up those recriminations and regrets, but at least I left them behind in the old year, turned to ash, forcing them to rise again from their immolation. The ritual was all about facing up to the things I didn’t like about the year and about myself and my behavior. I’m not just talking about “I regret not exercising more” or ” I regret not finishing my novel.” Those things made the list, too, but it was important to face myself squarely and list things like, “I regret envying X” or “I regret judging Y” or “I regret the shoddy thing I did to Z.” Although mostly the items on the list were less specific and more general like, “I regret taking things for granted.” Didn’t matter, as long as I took the time to make the list. And seriously? Burning them and thinking about them turn to ash was really quite fun. That’s why I did it for as long as I did.

After I moved from a place with a fireplace, burning these little suckers got more problematic. There was a memorable occasion when I lit bits of paper by candle and dropped them into a glass bowl to burn. After about twenty minutes of that (it’s a lonnnng list) the glass cracked. I’ve also been known to set off smoke detectors, which does rather take the shine off the meditative state I strive for in this ritual. So, like I said, many years since I’ve done this. I could use the fire pit out back, I suppose, but little bits of burning paper have a tendency to go airborne and, seriously, I like my neighbors too much to burn their houses down. Talk about regrets.

The other part of this ritual, the hopeful part, got equally problematic with time. I used to go for a drive January 1 to one of the local piers and throw my hopes into the ocean. Some sank, some drifted out to sea, some drifted to shore—but setting them loose into the world was the idea. Of course, I had to do this surreptitiously because throwing things into the ocean is illegal and the fines are pretty stiff. I got to feeling like it wasn’t auspicious to begin the year committing a crime and polluting the ocean, so I stopped doing it. Instead, as I drove around town, I’d take little handfuls of hopes and throw them out the car window to drift in my wake. As liberating as both these rituals felt, I also got to feeling bad about littering other peoples’ neighborhoods and stopped that, too.

I was thinking yesterday that we have a nice paper shredder that might like to eat up some regrets. Having them chewed to bits is not as effective a metaphor as burning them and reducing them to ash. Not as clean. But I suppose it will do.

And the hopes? Well, I’m going to visualize tucking them into the wings of doves and letting them fly away. It could take many, many doves to cover them all. I don’t want to weigh any one dove down with too much hope. It makes it hard for them to fly free. But fly free they will, come new year’s day.

Happy New Year, everyone! May all your regrets turn to ash in 2011 and not rise again in 2012. May all your doves fly free with hope and find wonderful places to roost.

Mirrored from Better Than Dead.

[Poll #1505962]

Current Music: Simon's Dream - Penguin Cafe Orchestra

I wasn't going to do a year-end post because I wasn't sure I had a good way to encapsulate what went on with me this year. But, as so often happens,

sartorias showed me a way into the subject. So, thanks Sherwood. :-) As they say in the disclaimers, she is not in any way responsible for the misuse I put her prompting to.

What did you learn this year? she asked her blog readers.

"Everything and nothing," I wrote in the comments. "Outwardly, my life is still boringly the same, but I did some important shifting internally. Too much to encapsulate—or, at least, most of it is ongoing and hard to encapsulate. But the most important two, the ones that I can make out through the fog: learning to let go, and learning not to give up. I mean, really learn, internalize, not just give mouth space to."

I don't mean to sound preachy here. That's not at all my intent. Mostly I'm reinforcing for myself what I've learned, reminding myself. Because you can't reinforce lessons learned enough—at least I can't. They have a tendency to slip away from me, even after I think I've got them.

I learned this year that sometimes when you let go of something—really, honest-to-G(g)od(dess) let go—you release it into the Universe, and sometimes, sometimes the Universe calls your bet and sends it back to you in a new and improved form. I learned that sometimes the things we want most, even things we've spent years yearning for, are not the most important things. In fact, sometimes we're denied getting them in direct proportion to how much we want them. They begin to control us, our thoughts and actions, our worldview, and nothing should have that kind of power over us.

But letting go...oh my Great Golly, that's the hardest part. Getting to a place of Non-attachment to something we've focused so much energy on feels near impossible. There's a lot of pain involved in that struggle, and I could no more give you a step by step analysis of how it works than I could fly backwards around the moon and do a pirouette on the head of a pin. Mostly, I think, it's a question of going into the darkness, living there for awhile, and crawling back out again.

"Use your dark times," a wise friend once told me. "Don't run from them. Don't live with them. Let them tell you what they have to say, then walk away." Sometimes not always easy to do in practice, and if you need help walking away from them, take it. But I'm not someone who thinks we need to run from unhappiness at the first instance or medicate ourselves away from it at every turn. Dark has as much to teach us as light.

The other lesson of the year is, ironically, one in not giving up. We give up in all sorts of ways, little and big, not just giving up dreams and wishes. Every time we decide it's too much trouble to do something or take the easier, lesser way, it's a form of giving up. After awhile, these acts of giving up pile around us like wood on a pyre and if we're not careful, our lives are consumed. Or, rather than a fire metaphor, maybe I should use ice. Because that's how it was for me: my life became frozen.

So, bend over and pick the soda bottle off the sidewalk and throw it in the trash rather than walking by and leaving it for someone else; go for that walk; look at that old story idea one more time; take a chance on the nice man who asked you out for coffee...

I don't make resolutions, but my hopes for the new year are that I keep learning, and that I remember, remember well, what I've already learned.

Have a blessed New Year, everyone.

Current Music: In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning - Frank Sinatra

Random quote of the day:

"An optimist stays up until midnight to see the new year in. A pessimist stays up to make sure the old year leaves."

—Bill (William E.) Vaughan, “Starbeams,” Kansas City Star

( Illustrated version. )

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this random quote of the day do not necessarily reflect the views of the poster, her immediate family, Siegfried and Roy, Leonard Maltin, or the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. They do, however, sometimes reflect the views of the Cottingley Fairies.

Happy New Year, everyone!

It's going to be low key here at Casa Thompson, but that suits me. I choose to stay away from New Year's Eve festivities. The roommate and I will be hoisting a few to welcome in 2009 and staying safe and snug at home.

May you all have a blessed 2009. Stay safe and snug!

Current Music: Intervention - Arcade Fire

It's been a year in which I did a great deal of comfort reading. I will not be displeased to see the back door hit 2008 in the fanny on it's way out—just as long as the door doesn't rebound and hit me in the face. It's been that kind of a year, and yet I've been a fortunate woman, so much luckier than many another. I am grateful.

But enough about me, let's talk about my books. Comfort reading, yes. I read a number of "romantic suspense" novels because a) my mother loves RS and likes to discuss books, and b) I like RS, too, although not always the same ones Mom likes. Whatever. I still read urban fantasy and paranormal romance. I managed to squeeze in a few other types of book this year, too. I went on a J. D. Robb kick at the end of the year—my ultimate in comfort reading, even though it deals with serial killers and bloody murder. Those are listed under Romantic Suspense, too, but it's an odd fit for the category: futuristic, police procedural with romance.

Which leads me to the list of novels and anthologies I managed to finish this year. An even forty this time around:

( Fiction books finished in 2008. )

The list of nonfiction and poetry is considerably smaller, although I tend to read nonfiction slowly, in bits and pieces, and/or as needed for research or whatever. I also haven't listed every poetry book I picked up this year, as I read poems here and there constantly and the list would be even more boring than it is.

( Nonfiction and poetry completed in 2008. )

And now to the "Hall of Shame" portion of this list—those books I picked up and put down again. I tend to read several books at once, and my putting them down again is absolutely no reflection on whether I liked them or not. Sometimes I just got distracted and never got back to them, sometimes they truly were horri--er, not to my taste, many times they were anthologies which I tend to read slowly over time. Some are ongoing research reading, like Popular Magic: Cunning-folk in English History by Owen Davies. Some of these books I really liked, such as Girl with a Pearl Earring and Falling Man, but I got distracted, like I said. Others, if I'm honest, were ones where I lost my nerve: I was really into the characters and didn't like the way I thought the books were headed. I needed to put them down until I was ready for the unhappy ending I saw approaching. I've become a grave coward in my dotage. Life provides quite enough unhappy endings, thank you very much. (And sometimes, when I do go back and finish these books, I'm completely wrong about what I thought was going to happen and feel very foolish indeed.)

( Books left unfinished in 2008. )

A few weeks back

arcaedia asked people to list their three stand out novels for 2008. I don't usually do this because it's so hard to reduce the list to just three. I decided to make the attempt and managed to do it—sort of.

( Stand out books for 2008. )

Okay, now I need a lap. And then a good book. And happy new year to you all!

Current Music: Komarov's Fall - Holst: The Planets - Berlin Philharmoniker/Sir Simon Rattle

This is a post I did for a small, private mailing list. We were describing personal rituals for New Year's and this details one I used to do. The logistics eventually got too complicated, so I stopped doing it. I thought to restart it again this year because we have a fireplace and we planned to start using it again. It hadn't been used in at least five years, so we called in a chimney sweep. He turned out to be a certified chimney inspector as well as a sweep and he had some bad news: the chimney had cracks in it, one large hole behind the mantle, and a smaller hole up top. He recommended we not use the fireplace until we have the repairs done as it could be dangerous. He himself doesn't do those kinds of repairs, but recommended a company who did. It could cost upwards of 3k, so needless to say, we won't be having a fire any time soon.

If I can think of a way of reviving this ritual that doesn't entail me releasing carbon monoxide in the house or standing outside in the cold at midnight, I may revise this, but . . . I may also not have as great a need for it as I once had. Maybe that's the real reason I stopped doing it—and why I haven't invested much creativity into coming up with a solution. That's the other thing about ritual: it changes as one's needs change.

January 1, 1998

I find ritual, especially ones I make up for myself, to be a powerful metaphorical tool, one that helps me grow and change and "redistribute my neuroses," so to speak. People need metaphors (like religion, honor, etc.) to live by. I do, anyway—and if the ones society hands us seem bankrupt, we must create our own.

( Read More )

Current Music: Someone to Watch Over Me - Blossom Dearie

Happy New Year, everyone!

My resolutions for 2008: make no resolutions.

My goals for 2008: survive. Other than that—make no goals.

That is all.

It wasn't a horrible year, but not one of my favorites. Mostly it seemed to be dominated by the daily grind, although I did get another novel out of it that I think is, overall, a decent piece of work. There isn't a lot to say about the year, other than it went way the hell too fast—or not fast enough, perhaps. Here's hoping 2008...will be something else that doesn't suck.

As to the books: I seem to have been very distractible this year. My partially read list has grown to mammoth proportions. Some of that is because I tend to read nonfiction slowly and in bits and pieces as needed, and anthologies in fits and starts, but I also felt extremely restless in my fiction reading. Character is the most important thing for me in reading a book—if none of the characters capture me, I lose interest. Voice is another biggie. No matter how intriguing the world is, if the voice bugs me, I also won't be able to finish the book. Of course, if the character grabs me but the voice is off, I can sometimes finish. I'd say that was true with M. J. Rose's The Halo Effect. But another of her books, The Reincarnationist, had such problems with voice and infodumpage that I stopped reading. I'm just glad I got it for half price! It would have cheesed me royally to pay full hardcover price.

I may get back to it someday. You never know. That's the thing about my partially read list. Nothing there is completely a dead issue unless it says "recycled" next to the book.

I haven't listed the names and authors of those novels I read in draft in order to respect the authors' privacy. The grayed out areas of the list were already covered in this post marking the half year:

http://pjthompson.livejournal.com/301548.html

( Here's the list. )

Current Music: Some Enchanted Evening - Jo Stafford

Go to your calendar and find the first entry for each month in 2007. Post the first line/sentence of it in your journal, and that's your "Year in Review."

January: The Monday Poll - New Year's Resolutions

February: Random quote of the day:

"Ordinarily he was insane, but he had lucid moments when he was merely stupid."

—Heinrich Heine

March: Some day this big, ugly Work Project From Hell will be over, but probably not in my lifetime.

April: Dudes, here is my tale of woe: no interdweebs all weekend long. :-(

May: I like these books by [John Maddox] Roberts, set in Ancient Rome.

June: I said to my friend this week, "I'm quitting writing." She said, "What, again?"

July: A week of bellyaches, both physical and mental. But I keep moving.

August: Oracular liberation of the day: I swore up one side and down the other that I would not be returning to Dr. Quacky McQuackenstein for my eye care after the last time.

September: One year ago today, Min moved into the house (as opposed to living in the yard or the garage).

October: Here are the movie references from yesterday's The Monday non-Poll.

November: I spent the day with my friends, Lynn and Carl, out in Pasadena yesterday.

December: You know it's time to stop messing with the crossword puzzle when you fill in all the letters of an answer by doing all the ones around it and come up with: FEATHEROFDERRINGDO

Please note: I cheated slightly. If the first entry was a repeat (i.e., yet another Monday Poll or quote of the day) I skipped forward to the next day. I must say, this was a depressingly accurate sketch of the year, though not all the entries were depressing.

Whenever I listen to this piece of music it puts me in a reflective mood. If you aren't familiar with it, you may know it as the piece that Billy played for Mel Gibson's character in The Year of Living Dangerously. Elisabeth Schwarzkopf has been dead for decades, but what a voice! She was also the soprano used in the movie. How ironic that I remember the name of the character Billy but not the name of Mel's character's name. He was just the pretty boy male lead, though, so why should I remember him? Billy was a brilliant creation.

Then the shuffle moves on to Doris Day singing, "Secret Love." Another incredible voice, though she's often viewed as corny from those goofy movies from the sixties. And it moves on again to Dolly singing "Jolene" and Buffalo Springfield doing "Expecting to Fly" and before you know it, the reflective mood is gone. That's the problem with shuffle. So hard to maintain a mood. But maybe that's a good thing, too.

Johnny Cash comes on singing, "If You Could Read My Mind," and the feeling isn't gone, and I have gotten it back. Then Dave Brubeck takes five and Smokey sings 'bout her having a hold on him...and I'm rolling again. Such is life.

So, Happy New Year to everyone! May the New Year bring you good moods, good health, good dreams, and the fulfillment of those dreams. Stay safe if you're partying--unless you don't want to stay safe, then just please stay alive. If you're not partying, hope your jammies are comfy.

( My modest year end lists. )

Current Music: Strauss: Four Last Songs: III. Beim Schlafengehen (Going to Sleep) - Elisabeth S

I got no lists for you.
I got no words for you.
I got no resolutions. ( Well, except maybe this one: )

Oh, and to stop pontificating. Yeah.

But I will say to all of you, Happy New Year! Blessed be in 2006--and thanks for all the fish.

Now, to burn my '05 regrets in the fireplace and start anew...

"Compassion is hard because it asks us to dethrone ourselves from the center of our universe."

—Karen Armstrong, theologian

Here's to a new year in which we're not afraid of compassion and of feeling the things we feel.
Here's to a new year in which we say the things that need saying and do the things that need doing.
Here's to a new year in which we aren't afraid of hope, even if things seem hopeless.
Here's to a new year in which we work towards peace, even if it's the most elusive thing in the world.
Here's to a new year in which we strive for tolerance, even when intolerance is the reigning glory.
Here's to a new year in which we listen, really listen.
Here's to a new year, a new chance, a new opportunity.

I wish you all new chances, new opportunities, new hope, new glory, compassion, peace, tolerance, courage, and someone who really listens.

Burn all your regrets and leave them behind in the old year.

Happy New Year.

2004 meme. From

riemannia who got it from

yhlee.

On balance, a good year. But on my last day of work for 2004 I find myself to be very tired and so looking forward to Christmas break.

The year in review right here.

1. What did you do in 2004 that you'd never done before?

Got an editor to read my novel.

2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I can't remember what they were, but I actually stopped doing them some years back because I never kept them.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

No.

5. What countries did you visit?

England.

6. What would you like to have in 2005 that you lacked in 2004?

A publication contract.

7. What date from 2004 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

April 20 when I left for England. Because it was a fun and soul-nourishing trip and because it was the first time I'd left L.A. in years.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Finishing my novel and two rewrites.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Going more deeply into debt and eliminating my surplus cash because my 17-year-old car finally died for good just before Xmas.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

A couple of very bad colds, but fortunately no return of major illness, no injuries.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

A fricking car. (But even though I hate the debt, it's nice having a new car.)

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

KM Kibble, for his patience.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

George Bush.

14. Where did most of your money go?

A fricking car. And those credit card things. Oh, and the computer I bought which I wouldn't have bought if I'd known about the car, but I'm glad I have the computer anyway. The trip to England was saved up for two years in advance and increased my debt not at all.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Besides England? Writing-related things.

16. What song will always remind you of 2004?

Can't think of one.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

i. happier or sadder? Happier. Despite the bit at the end it's been, on balance, a good year.

ii. thinner or fatter? Slightly thinner.

iii. richer or poorer? Poorer.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?

Love affairs.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?

Worry and bitch.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?

Quietly, with family. Nice.

22. Did you fall in love in 2004?

Sadly, no.

23. How many one-night stands?

With another person involved?

24. What was your favorite TV program?

Ghost Hunters.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?

No. Rummy, George, Dick—I've pretty much hated them all along.

26. What was the best book you read?

Hmmm. The one that pops to mind most readily is The Tooth Fairy by Graham Joyce, but I think there were others.

27. What was your greatest musical (re)discovery?

Rapa Iti by the Tahitian Choir. AMAZING layering of voices.

28. What did you want and get?

A new computer.

29. What did you want and not get?

A publishing contract.

30. What was your favorite film of this year?

Finding Neverland.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I went to work.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

See 29, above.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2004?

Is it clean and ironed?

34. What kept you sane?

(or what passes for) Writing.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Le Depp.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?

Don't even get me started. Iraq.

37. Who did you miss?

My dad.

38. Who was the best new person you met?

Most of my new acquaintances were here online.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2004.

Do not wash red socks with white clothes. Actually, I've known that one for years, but it bears repeating.

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Echoes in a Hollow Space

I'm here because I'm here because I'm here

Entries tagged with new year

Beginnings

Happy New Decade

New growth

Burning regret, releasing hope

Poll: What did you wear New Year's Eve?

In the wee small hours of the year

Half empty

Happy New Year

The year in books

From the notebooks: A new year's ritual

Turn the page

The year, and in books

The year in review

A reflecting time of year

Happy...uh...happy..something

A New Chance

2004 Meme

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