It’s early morning, a new day reluctantly peaks through clouds that are filled with rain – maximum capacity. The temperature has a chill to it – a teeth chattering freeze. A direct message shot across the bow from Old Man Winter – a not so subtle poke as a reminder, like a child demanding attention – winter isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Dawn breaks with a crack and pop; it is a new year. Endings, beginnings, status quo.

As 2020 slithers off to another dimension – and 2021 with all its potential and promise; higher hopes than we’ve had in years. Not the usual celebratory cheers and/or jeers to the end of one year to the beginning of a new – resolutions and such or the long awaited midnight kiss, but a sense of how fragile life truly is and how we are all responsible for where we are, where we have landed in this life, good, bad or indifferent. It has a feel of melancholy – we gallantly move forward – burning all the incense and sage in our possession. A grand powerful universal cleansing.

We are determined…we are cautious…we are fearless in our ambivalence.

Truth is not a weapon, it is a blessing. A bead in our spiritual rosary to meditate and release. It allows individual choice, an essential part of the survival of love and life. The lie, delusion or fantasy denies that innate right. Love is unconditional when it is wrapped in the wings of the Archangel Urielle (female).

“Veritas est adaequatio rei et intellectus” (Truth is the equation of thing and intellect). “A judgment is said to be true when it conforms to the external reality…” Thomas Aquinas

Choices made based on the past, need, fear, sense of loss or loneliness, or any unresolved something or other is usually a sign – there’s a real strong chance that the wheel of life will continue its cycle. The path and the lessons that haven’t been learned will surely become a repeated loop. There are no bridges to burn, they remain a necessary source for next life crossings.

“And the seasons, they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return, we can only look
Behind, from where we came
And go round and round and round, in the circle game…” JM

As the days begin to unfold and truths are revealed; there are always decisions, subtle at times or like a ton of bricks; but regardless they will become a reality, sooner or later.

Love and loss don’t always go hand in hand, and certainly not the path to becoming open again; if ever, the questions linger to a new chapter. A literal “turning of the page” has to be part of the ceremony; the ritual of healing the rupture. That internal tare in the lining of the heart. When the natural rhythm slips. “…syncopate the rhythm or break free from the beat entirely…” A new life isn’t a given, but it is a choice. Reluctantly or with gusto. Never is also an option – however grim.

There is no time line or advice from one to another that moves the process along. It adjusts with a twist and stretch from here to there at its own pace. It slowly transforms and mutates, it never truly goes away – I believe it isn’t supposed to…it does become maneuverable and tolerable; a part of the heart that is resting and if lucky, it becomes a welcoming to anew.

How does any of this fit with the philosophy of the “New Year”? It fits uncomfortably within the potential of what we can do, almost like the traditional resolution. Every new year promises are made in holy solitude. Our silence in that moment to never forget, but to remember and move forward. Change, a shift moving towards what is a better stance, a better life, health, abundance of what ever suits the resolution-er. And love for another person shared is usually at the top of the list, to heal the grief. To mend the break, to sooth the continuous ache as it fades in and out daily, monthly, year after year.

“Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne?” RB

In the confusion and confinement of the process, comes the clutter of the mind; overload, overwhelmed (the mind a powerful organ) and often an urge to let go. To fade away. To jump ship. To never experience that possible tare again or the angst of pulling it all together with someone new. To discover, to bend, to be open to all that may be revealed…again, good, bad or indifferent. But, always with the winds of truth and integrity guiding the way. Clarity, step back, evaluate and make a loving decision to stop or continue.

Call a truce, or a one week moratorium and just be. Breathe.

Expectations can be a tough act to follow, especially when one isn’t aware of the others thoughts and hopes…expectations. And in all the moves forward and back there is always a touch or remorse. A twinge of regret but also a sense things will be okay especially if we can all take truth, love and integrity hold them close and remain diligent to its intent and purpose.

2021 be kind, be gracious, be a lover and a friend. Saluti!

©2021 TrilbyYates