Now It Begins

December. It is a time of anniversaries and birthdays. The 5th is my father's birthday. The 6th and 9th are my favorite uncle's and brother-in-law's birthdays. The 8th is the anniversary of the murder of John Lennon. The 10th is the wedding anniversary of my parents. The 24th is my cousin Maryann's birthday and the date of our annual Christmas eve dinner for family. The 25th is a day off work.

In the background of all this is my annual ritual of evaluating the year globally, nationally, locally and personally as well as evaluating my life up to date. I think about it, dream about it, meditate about it, write about it, read about it, make myself sick to death of it, wrap it up well, put it away and then begin the new year with fresh thoughts and enthusiasm.

This is my ritual each and every year. It works for me. I enjoy it in a sort of morose way. I get into the thick of it, roll around in the mud of it, snort, puff, blow, wallow in it. All the failures, the delays, and now that I'm older, the loss of all those missed opportunities are raked over, grieved, and put to bed for another year. I usually conclude that I did the best I could with what I had, that I overcame much, to accomplish what little I have, and that if I've offered only good intentions and a sincere heart to the world, then that is better than to have offered greed and a malicious mind.

The painting I've posted is called "Directions," and that sums up my annual ritual. The end result of the ritual is to put it all in its' place and so I post also "Directions" hanging in its' place in the home of friends Christi and Sue, a/k/a jtl and Q.