A new year always asks for a new baseline. People like to make resolutions. I don’t think I have ever used that term for things that I seek to do. No one seems to be successful with a “resolution”. Traditionally, exercise equipment becomes a clothes hanger before February.
So many things ask to be regenerated. My financial sheet, the banking, and the way I address the medical challenges and diet. The ostomy is undergoing a supply revamp, as it shifts and changes with a hernia. We had to buy new bed sheets, mundane. My computer drown (to death) and the new laptop has a lot of those “original bugs” to work out. The examples are mounting, and overwhelming, and frankly, somewhat ridiculous.
I feel like I am in a forest fire, like Elsa in Frozen, working to put out fire after fire. For each that is quelled, two more arise. I can lower their impact, keep the size down, but none subside. They are small because of my efforts, but continue to grow in number. Endless.
The politics of the nation echoes the need to be regenerated. With the new year comes a vast opportunity to emerge united, to manifest a better life. Housing, food, and healthcare, basics for the masses. Addressing all people as human, as valuable, and reflecting that in policy and policing. The earth. Rejuvenation of a tired education structure. Respect and support for small businesses. So much more. We have the capacity to be strong and exemplary. I can see the potential. It is bright and exciting, waiting on the horizon.
Yet, the apparent beginning burns old structures. I wish it was less literal, as I watch the heated battles and painful images. They are the forest fires that clear the ground for rebirth. The aftermath leaves the ashen rubble, the stench of smoke and death. The new growth promises bright colors and tender shoots, the fluffy bunnies, scurrying squirrels, and baby deer returning from places unknown. Patience. Time. Compassion. We can do this.