On the eve of a new year

This year, and a few preceding it, remind me of the opening of Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way--in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

That assessment then makes me thing of the proverb “The more things change, the more they stay the same.” That prompts me to remember some of my Christmas presents, literary postcards that came from the Book Elves via the Better Half, or vice versa.

tomorrow brings the dawn of a new year

Photo by J. Harrington

I’ve not read much of Tolstoy so I was pleased to read his observation, printed on a card, that “Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing themselves.” It seems to me to nicely complement the card with the quotation from T. S. Eliot that “And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.” [If interested, check here.]

Several times over the decade I’ve been posting here I’ve mentioned the poem Desiderata. To see how often, and in what contexts, follow this link. I can think of no better way to close out this year than to hope and pray that Desiderata is true for each of us.

Remember

Joy Harjo - 1951-

Remember the sky that you were born under,
know each of the star's stories.
Remember the moon, know who she is.
Remember the sun's birth at dawn, that is the
strongest point of time. Remember sundown
and the giving away to night.
Remember your birth, how your mother struggled
to give you form and breath. You are evidence of
her life, and her mother's, and hers.
Remember your father. He is your life, also.
Remember the earth whose skin you are:
red earth, black earth, yellow earth, white earth
brown earth, we are earth.
Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have their
tribes, their families, their histories, too. Talk to them,
listen to them. They are alive poems.
Remember the wind. Remember her voice. She knows the
origin of this universe.
Remember you are all people and all people
are you.
Remember you are this universe and this
universe is you.
Remember all is in motion, is growing, is you.
Remember language comes from this.
Remember the dance language is, that life is.
Remember.

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