31 Flavors

Hearing Auld Lang Syne always moves me. Maybe I am ever perplexed by what "auld", "lang" and "syne" actually mean. Maybe I have just watched When Harry Met Sally twenty-five times too many. Either way, I hear those plaintive tones that open the official tune of New Year's and my heart begins to mist over with sentiments of every kind:

31 flavors of regret. 31 flavors of appreciation. 31 flavors of resolution. 31 flavors of hope for the coming year. A lot of emotion and ambiguity from one who was born and nurtured in a family that epitomizes, year after year, 31 flavors of crazy.

The past year was the most difficult of my life - at once a blessing and a curse - blessed because there was no personal tragedy which tore my world apart, cursed because even without tragedy I managed to lay waste to 365 precious days by succumbing to my personal malaise. And so 2006 arrives not a moment too soon. A paragraph finalized, a page turned.

Editorials and experts alike have warned of the danger of too much introspection this time of year; likewise, those in the know are quick to point of that too much (read: unattainable) resolve is to be avoided as well. So where does that leave me? Holding on to Today.

Today, just today, I will not be afraid - of my own shadow, of the possibilities, of change, of what is and what isn't.

Today, just today, I will take a deep breath when I feel the rising sense of panic.

Today, just today, I will begin working on the belief that the simplest things in life - that warm, bright corner of the world that I dream about - can be mine.

Today, just today, I will start to forget that I have always felt fundamentally unlovable.

Today, just today, I will start to remember the image that I had long buried - of love, of family, of building something - and believe it could possibly happen someday to me.

Today, just today, I will look in the mirror without wincing.

Today, just today, I will let go - of the ones who bring more pain than presence to my life; of the memories whose continually re-lived slights keep my wounds and resentment fresh and poison relationships in the present day; of everything I know for an absolute certainty, because nothing is ever absolute nor certain.

Today, just today, I will be very quiet and I will listen - to those around me; to myself.

Today, just today, I will trust - them, me; it will be okay.

Today, just today, I will sit down, I will take a long look around the corners and past the walls; I will see.

I may not be able to do all of these things, I may not be able to do any of them. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, maybe not next month - but maybe Today. At least just Today.