In Praise Of New Years (All Of Them)
"I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers,” exclaims Anne Shirley as she falls in love with her new home. I too am happy to live in a world where there are Octobers, though not merely for the pumpkin-spiced-everything and the vast pallete of colourful falling leaves. I love October for Halloween, which, among other things, is a New Year’s festival (Samhain). It marks the end of the harvest season, when everything is about to go to sleep. It’s about blurring the line between what is about to not be, and what will be later on, a recognition that something old is ending, and something new is stirring.
For similar reasons, I also love December 31/January 1. For starters, the first month of the year is named for the two-faced god Janus. It’s even cooler that it’s feted in so many ways, with much frolicking and merriment. I know it’s based on a calendar that someone decided to pop into place, and not on the ebb and flow of nature, but once you’ve smooshed yourself into a noisy, joyful crowd in Edinburgh for Hogmanay, it’s hard to not get on board.
The older I get, and the more I look into it, the more versions of new year come to light. At the time of writing this, we’re about to usher in the Year of the Horse, the Fire Horse, no less. From what I’ve heard, this is a big year for change and momentum, a combination of energies that most of us won’t see again in our lifetimes. The preparation for it buzzes with anticipation, and people are advised to (literally and figuratively) clean house and eschew clutter, so that good luck and positive change can find their way in.
If you’re looking to add to your understanding of New Year, there’s Nowruz in March, Songkran in April, Rosh Hashanah in September, Diwali in November, and many more. Take a minute to look ‘em up.
These celebrations are resets. Each has its own manner of clearing out what doesn’t serve, and welcoming in what might be helpful. They are festivals of “Whoa! So, that all happened. Now what?” A new year, whenever it happens to fall, brings catharsis, a breather, a call for something to be different, and an opportunity for us to get our ya-yas out. The coming of a new year can serve to sharpen our dulled intentions. The folks of yore who first decided to mark the occasion, the ones who set the menus and wrote the songs, who watched for full moons and changes in flora and fauna, must have felt this.
This year, there is much that hasn’t worked, that continues to not work. We have skeletons in our closets, bats in our belfries, layers of gunk besmirching many areas of our lives. We’ve gotten pretty good at being ignorant, messy, and cruel, and worst of all, ignoring opportunities to reverse any of it.
Thankfully, the universe, Mother Nature, and our collective unconscious seem to believe in second chances. It really doesn’t matter which new year festivities you choose to participate in. Eat the fancy dinner. Light the sparklers. Give the front porch a sweep. Sing the songs, exchange the gifts, and do all things auspicious and hopeful. Pick one celebration, pick several, or pick them all. But for the sake of all we’ve been through, all we’re going through, and all we hope to embrace or avoid in the coming year, don’t miss out on the chance to clean up and start over.