“Never Going Back Again,” Fleetwood Mac
New Year’s Eve celebrates the exact moment when we, as a community, as human beings, move through time into a new year. We do this every moment of every day but the new year creates space for us to observe the gift of time with people we love.
The ball drops from a tower far away in New York City and fireworks explode all over the world. A glittering sky marks the first seconds of the new year, punctuated with cheering crowds and tender gestures. We embrace possibility in these moments. The daily grind of responsibilities and apprehension about the future fades into the background as champagne toasts the buoyancy of hope.
Experiencing the exact moment of a new year evokes a scrapbook of past scenes and experiences. It’s impossible not to joke about, “that time Joe put garden gnomes on the roof of SWCC,” or remember the dreams we had at 17 when life felt like a highway full of unknown mystery to explore. My memories are like balloons that hold a mixture of cheer and wistfulness, complex feelings that aren’t one note.
The balloons, full of memories of previous years, in all their various shades exist only in the past. They happened, but does holding onto them shape our present moments in ways we may not realize? I think I have definitely tied at least one balloon to my wrist. I didn’t intend to carry it, my hands were free, but tying it to myself still brought it into my present moments. I’m more aware of this now, ready to watch it float away into the sky. Forgiveness and appreciation are like the blades of metaphorical scissors, cutting the few balloon strings still attached. Letting go of the past is like becoming a child again and watching with ease and wonder as that free balloon bobs upwards into the clouds, dancing in the breeze. If you’re like me, you may have a whole clown-like bouquet of balloons and letting them go one at a time is its own practice. One that makes room for peace.
I’m reading the book, “You are Here,” by Thich Nhat Hahn, a world-renowned Zen monk, poet, and peace activist that was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize by Martin Luther King, Jr. His book is about “discovering the magic of the present moment.”
I chose the song, “Never Going Back Again,” by Fleetwood Mac because, like the concept in the book, it is firmly rooted in the present. We can’t go back. No matter how many times we’ve been down, no matter how much pain or joy has colored our past, the present moment is where we exist.
“She broke down and let me in, made me see where I’ve been
Been down one time, been down two times
Never going back again
You don’t know what it means to win, come round and see me again
Been down one time, been down two times
Never going back again”
The beauty of time is that we can’t go back. We are only where and when we are. That in itself is wonderful, just as you are wonderful. Find something in this very moment to appreciate or forgive about yourself; then try it for someone else in your life and hopefully you’ll feel just a little bit lighter going into 2023.
Potential is what we all aspire to. However our lives have turned out, there is potential for more of what we love. Maybe that’s why New Years’ holidays are famous for resolutions–a “fresh start” to transform ourselves, promises to quit our old vices tossed out like pockets of confetti. But it’s not about the past or becoming a “better version” of ourselves in the future, it’s about right now. Today choose your happiness, your peace. Choose what feeds your soul, one small decision at a time. Rest knowing that there is a time and a season for everything and the present moment is your perfect place.