If only we march toward the end of things with anticipation and joy, with Auld Lang Syne, with parties and dance and good cheer, and step into new beginnings like that of a new year, life would be quite all right.
The bells are never tolled for the old year. We can’t wait to get rid of it. Why can’t we do that with failed careers and relationships, bad decisions and botched dreams, but instead sink to a bottomless pit and sometimes never pull ourselves out of it?
Soon we’ll have a new ID number. Maybe that’s what we need when things go wrong: give ourselves a new ID, invent and reinvent.
