Crossing into the New Year, with Open Eyes

The year speeds toward its close. Tonight we ate Persian rice-and-beef meatballs that I'd made last night (flavored with dill, parsley, saffron, and onion, in a lime-and-tomato broth) and around 5:00 pm, I walked up to the market to buy yogurt for a salad, because we had run out. I bought bread, yogurt and some labneh, and then, because it was a lovely night, clear and cold, walked on to the bank and back down the opposite side of the street, while the last shoppers finished their purchases and the store-keepers began shutting down their shops for the night. The dark blue and white Christmas lights were still lovely on the evergreen street trees, and seasonal music played on loudspeakers along the sidewalk. In the windows, mannequins no longer wore red sweaters and furry boots, but rather black or gold or dark blue sparkly tops, optimistically accented by shiny jewelry, bare shoulders, and high heels. No one seemed to be shopping for clothes, though; the longest lines were inside the SAQ*.

I went as far as rue Brébeuf, and as I crossed the street to head back toward home, a woman was crossing in  the other direction with a small boy. As we passed I saw that his face was turned toward the sky, and his eyes pressed tightly shut, trying perhaps, to see what the busy street felt like without sight. His mother didn't seem to notice, but dragged him along by one hand.

I remembered doing that as a child, after discovering one sense could be heightened by suppressing another. Now, the thought makes me shiver: too many people I see every day are impaired in one way or another. I thought about the happy naivete of youth, the melancholy knowledge that comes with years, the way that wisdom gradually substitutes itself in place of idealistic hope -- and the choice to greet the New Year, in spite of it all, with eyes wide open.

---

One of the best things about being part of this online community is meeting other people who grapple with similar issues. Here are a few links to recent posts by people you may not have read, who regularly have something worthwhile to say.

• Kat wonders about life and death, blood, rain, earth, and the edges of things
• New Zealand photographer and writer Tony Bridge tells us what he's grateful for (scroll WAY down the page - this link works better in Explorer)
• Jim Murdoch writes amusingly and honestly about depression, and hopes we all made it through the holidays
• Miguel is pleasantly surprised by an encounter with American immigration during the Christmas holidays
• And at Redemption Shoes, a Lost Ritual is remembered, causing me to pause on the faded, floral-carpeted stairs of my own childhood, looking at the bookcase where the row of Victorian glass Santa-ornaments perch in front of evergreen boughs, and two leather straps of heavy sleigh bells hang on the stained-glass panels of the front doors, knowing that this night Christmas would be ushered in with a glittering tree and an open house full of happy adults and children...no, it has never been possible to recreate this either.

Nevertheless, we are a real community, unable to lift a glass together but quite capable of cheer, encouragement, laughter and caring. May the New Year be a good one for you, and a happier and more hopeful one for the earth and its people.

*provincial liquor store

Comments

[language hat]

The same to you, and thanks for this brave ongoing venture in writing and revelation (of the world and yourself).

[margaret]

Beth,
A very Happy and Hopeful New Year to you and to J. from your friends South of the Border! We look forward most eagerly to another encounter sometime in 2008. In the meantime, I shall continue to seek your wisdom and follow your explorations here....

[Joan]

Happy New Year, Beth! it's been so lovely getting to know you these past few weeks and i look forward to more thoughtful and, yes, brave writing from you in 2008.

[Jim Murdoch]

Appreciate the comment. My latest post is actually along the same lines about what it was like when I originally discovered the Internet. For years I had been very lonely as a writer with no one to share with, no one that either understood or cared that much and then there they were so many writers all like me. The young today don't appreciate just what a blessing the Internet is.

You have a nice New Year too and I'll see you on the other side.

[marja-leena]

Thank you, Beth, for your ever thoughtful, truly meaningful and brave words here. I treasure your blog and our friendship and once again hope that we may meet in real life one day. Wishing you and J a very happy, healthy. peaceful and abundantly creative New Year!

[shannon]

Beth,

You have been much in my thoughts over the holidays--these dark, spirit-stilling days of winter--I was just thinking the other day of the first time our words were forged together by a mutual friend, and what tremendous respect I felt for the stranger who could have wrought such powerful, evocative words. So much to hope for in the coming year, and yet that word --hope--seems a weak substitution for the real word, whatever it is, in whatever language or alphabet. Be well, friend.

[Loretta]

Happy New Year, Beth, to you and your family. Your post is quite lovely as always and makes me happy to click on your blog year after year. I think of your father in law often, having relatives at that stage of life myself and struggling to bring them what they need to feel heard.

[Dick]

Happy New Year to you & yours, Beth.

[Bill]

Your held my eye in
your hand and you
ate it. And I ate yours.

[Theriomorph]

Wishing you deep and abundant joy in the coming year, Beth - so glad you are part of my community.

[Kat]

Wishing you joy and grace the new year, and thank you, Beth.

[Lucy]

A peaceful, joyful and creative New Year to you and yours, Beth, with thanks for all you share.

[marlyat2]

A blessed and happy new year to you, Beth. I really enjoyed spending e-time with you and Dave and Ivy with qarrtsiluni...

[Jean]

Warmest new year wishes from me too, Beth.

As always, it's a huge pleasure to come back and find your tender, thought-provoking words and gorgeous, subtle pictures.

[Relatively Retiring]

A very happy and creative New Year to you. I have been reading, and re-reading your beautiful, thoughtful writings for some time now, and so just wanted to send my thanks and appreciation.

[udge]

Happy New Year, Beth, to you and yours. May the year be happy, peaceful and successful. I look forward to reading you in 2008.

[rr]

Happy, joyful, peaceful, creative new year to you, yours and everyone, dear friend. xx

[Mouse]

When I was a child I was sure that I could see through closed eyes
Even with my eyes tightly shut I could watch the world around me
There are days now when the same belief comes back to me
Happy New Year from France