It’s 1:04 AM on January 1, 2009, and I’m wide awake in a sleeping house, completely sober and deep in thought. I consider going out to the local pub for just a few seconds and realize that it isn’t something I feel like doing. This is new for me.
I wouldn’t say I’m content per se, but I can’t say that I’m unhappy either. The past year has had its share of ups and downs and slight de ja vus, and repeating patterns, life motifs if you will, but all in all I made it through with fewer scars than past years that is for darn sure.
What strikes me most I think is Dick Clark slurring through yet another “Rockin’ New Years” broadcast and grinning from ear to ear, just happy to be alive and still able to read cue cards. It’s painful to watch in a way, but mostly I think about how it must feel to have lived through your life doing things that you love most and being remembered for it. There must be an incredible sense of personal fulfillment to have someone else (in this case a goofy Ryan Seacrest) pick up the torch and aspire only to be half as great as you were in your heyday.
I wonder if I will ever find myself in that moment, reflecting back on a life filled with all my favorite things. I hope to God I will. But the days look pretty bleak for me at times and it takes quite a lot of optimism and pollyannaism to overcome the dark cloud over my head.
And then out of the blue, around 1:06 AM I got a text message from someone I really never expected to (1) hear from ever again and (2) get THAT message from, and the sky looks just the slightest bit clearer and I see the North Star shine again. Funny how perspective and mood changes, rotates in a way, with every minute.
I pray to God 2009 will be the best yet. it’s off to a good 75 minutes.