Tomorrow, we all stand at the top of the 2018.
We’ll stand there, in the crisp, clear dawn, able to see far and wide across the span of a whole new year. The air may be brisk, but refreshing and clean. Hopefully, the sun’s out, the snow’s just fallen, and there’s no path yet broken before us.
So it’s up to us to decide which way we’ll walk.
We’ll decide who we’ll walk with. And what we’ll carry. It’s up to us to choose our pace. When we’ll rest and when to forge ahead. What we’ll gather along the way, and what we’ll leave behind. Maybe, if we pay close attention, we’ll come to understand how to lighten the bags carried by someone else we meet along the way.
There’ll be promises made just as bygones disappear back aways and over our shoulders. There’ll be both departures and arrivals. Invitations extended and mistakes made. Out there on the horizon, we’ll see both clouds and sun. Ideas will grow. We’ll forgive and make peace. Offer help. Wish. Dream. And hope.
Standing here, at the bottom of 2017, looking up at that shiny, new year hill … it feels a little surprising we’ve hiked all this way already since it seems like only yesterday we stood at the crest of 2017. A full, busy, often fulfilling, and sometimes frightening 364 day journey.
But tomorrow’s waiting, and there’s only this one day left to both look back at the year that was and forward to the year that will be. We’re all standing at another year’s intersection. Betwixt and between. Not quite here … nor there. A simultaneous beginning and ending.
This last day is a day of grace. A repreive of sorts marked right at the crossroads of regret and optimism. And all signs point toward the future.