I love New Years' Day. I love the fresh start. I love cracking open a clean, new calendar, full of possibly wonderful days, accomplishments, chances to get it right. I always have.
My brilliant friend, E., makes only fun resolutions at this time of year: going to acrobat school, learning to mix perfect cocktails, eating at each of the Washingtonian's 100 Best Restaurants. Her theory is that if you need to lose weight you can just decide to do that when you realize that you need to do it. But E. is an Aries, and starting things is, shall we say, not a problem for her. Me, I hit the laziness trifecta of the Horoscope and I love the hit of energy that the New Year can give me.
Joanna Colbert recently wrote about what seems to me like a genius idea: choosing a word or theme for the year, as opposed to just listing a bunch of unrelated resolutions.
The wake-up call arrived In 1981, While swimming In a bottle of Scotch With mouth open.
The alarm was A mountain hike Followed by Stiff, hellish, Lactic acid pain, A week of aching agony!
Thirty-six pounds overweight, One for each year; Popping anti-acids And pain ‘killers’ like candy kisses; Shooting pains Cramping fingers; Not exercising; Endless sinus infections Due to chemical Classroom exposures. Wheezing! Afraid to sleep! Might never awake!
That mountain hike pushed Me over the edge.
It was a long fall From carnivore to vegan Escaping eggs, milk and meat; Giving up whiskey; Being chased by Sodas, pizza And beer In ‘bad’ dreams.
After that transformation, Most of the pain was left In the sun blasted dust Climbing endless Mountain trails.
Sage advice: “To eat what you don’t want, drink what you don’t like and do what you’d rather not.” — Mark Twain
After a few months of distress, It gets easy.
I met a couple in line at Orion’s Express vegan fast food In Pasadena, California. He showed me his Stroke scars Where the doctor Cracked his chest.
It’s all about restraint Instead of Sinatra singing, “I did it my way” For people headed Toward an early grave Like my brother, Richard.
Why not hunt for The Vampire Lestat? Summon him And seek the true Fountain of Youth.
Could it be that Ponce De Leon was looking In the wrong places Leading us astray?
What word would you like to define the coming year for you?
I'm a woman, a Witch, a mother, a grandmother, an eco-feminist, a gardener, a reader, a writer, and a priestess of the Great Mother Earth. Hecate appears in the
Homeric Ode to Demeter, which tells of Hades who caught Persophone
"up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. . . . But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tenderhearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave . . . ."