This year, I will tell you honestly, has surprised me. Whether we believe in the transformative power of dates or not, I think that many of us harbour secret hopes every New Year’s Eve that things will magically change overnight, that the worries and sorrows of the old year will somehow stay behind us and we can start over with a clean slate. Just as many of us have been disappointed that merely turning to a new calendar leaf doesn’t really change anything. But sometimes, just sometimes, the whammy comes out of the blue when you’ve given up expecting it, like some mythological Deus ex Machina, to grant us the reset we’d all but given up on.
That’s exactly what happened. Since January 1st, I have been in an inexplicably good mood. Sure, I’ve gotten cranky a couple of times, but each time it utterly failed to ruin my day. I’ve had two days of semi-depression, and even those weren’t as bad as they could have been. My long-buried and half forgotten creativity has pushed to the surface with a vengeance, and I am so swamped with ideas that every day is at least 12 hours too short. There is reading to be done, words are waiting to be put to keyboard, paint to paper; one idea is not quite finished before it yields another and yet another, and so on it goes. And above -or beneath- it all burns that joyful flame that tickles my belly like a swarm of lovey-dovey butterflies.
I’ve tried getting you, my dear readers, involved in the process but you’ve once again proven resistant to the effort. Perhaps you are shy and don’t want to share your ideas. Perhaps you think you don’t have any. And perhaps some of you do have ideas, but you’ve unlearnt the process of letting it all hang out. This year, no matter what turns may come, my creative hair is down. The cork is popped. The genie will not return to the bottle. When we suffer hard times, we tell ourselves to hang in there and ride it out. Well, the time has now come to surf this wave and enjoy it while it lasts. I appreciate you coming along.