The year closes. We reflect and as the heart stills the memories of yesterday surround us. The summer nights turn into cool winter mornings.
The coffee as we walk to work turns into cocktails as we celebrate our Lord's resurrection on Easter. The wrinkles begin to show as the wisdom of our tribulations overcome us.
Deadlines turn into daydreams as holidays are booked, and the hustle of the promise of a promotion fades as the bank bill depletes. All in the name of birthdays.
Gym attendance is never satisfied and the resolution of more classes is promised. Upskilling, more socialising, less stress, yet with no knowing how to achieve such goals. The ones we made in 2023. Gone. Unknown. Written? Did the paper of our new life make it past February? Or did the new Chinese take out menu take its place on the fridge door?
Inventory of the check-ins never made, yet we clear our desks, take out the paper and begin a new list, all in the name of resolutions.
Takeouts, alcohol consumption, excess of a rectangle box that displays our favourite shows is written as resolutions. Eager and naivety overcome the reality that these will be more likely to achieve than a Nobel prize.
Desires of falling in love, gaining a higher quality of income, career jumps, and more holidays eagerly sprawled on said paper.
Shifts of desire, priorities yet no lifestyle changes leave us re-writing the same 5 things each year.
But what would humanity be without the hope of better? Of more? Rain storms with Notebook worthy kisses, smiles and hugs as we enter our homes. Weekends filled with laughter and friendships creating memories to tell our unborn grandchildren raise our heart beats.
All in the promise of hope.
But what if our isolation is our destination? What if the fairytale skips a generation?
Red hair, blue eyes and dimples, rarities designed to shun and mock yet what of the hope of love?
The New Year offers us not the ability to once again fall short of unrealistic desires but it allows us to dream.
A fat red man going down chimneys, a fairy collecting teeth, a childlike love for magic.
Did we ever grow up or did we swap the word magic for goals?
Make belief for resolutions, and an escape of the world we are in for a deep desire for one with more vibrant colours? More love. More hope.
For what is humanity without hope?
What is a New Year without a list of resolutions?
And what is February but the list falling on the carpet to collect dust?
