Reflect on your year

How's your year been?

What's given you joy this year?

What's brought you down this year?

Those are three questions I think are good to ask when the year ends - of people you care about and of yourself.

When I ask the question about what gave me joy in a year, I go through my Google calendar, my journal, my blogs and my social media posts, and I make a list - I write it out. And it always turns out that good things happened that I had forgotten: some movie I saw that I found delightful. Some outing I had with someone I hadn't seen in a long while. Some hike. Some one-day motorcycle ride. I find myself thinking over and over again, "Oh yeah, that happened..." I always feel better after I do this, even if the year has been a particularly bad one.

The last question is easier to answer - no need to go looking for what brought me down, because I haven't forgotten most of it. Sometimes I list that too, sometimes not. Sometimes, I have found a list like that in a journal, read through the things, and none of them matter anymore, at all,and that is a comfort - to see that something so dire five years ago doesn't matter now. Or seeing something bad and being reminded that I survived it, that I got through it, even if it left a scar.

I know that our ideas about the start of a year are artificial, entirely man-made: yes, a year is the time the Earth goes around the Sun, that's real, that's not made up, but our starting point is artificially chosen - there's no official start and end time for a year, from a scientific perspective. Humanity could have chosen the year to start at the height of summer's heat in the Northern Hemisphere. It didn't, for logical reasons: new things start at birth, and as we see things being born and reborn all around us in nature as Winter turns to Spring, humanity's choice of when a year stops or starts makes sense.

I like metaphors. I think I especially like them now, as an atheist, far more than in my younger days because, when I was trying to be a Christian in those younger days, the religion was taught to me literally, without many metaphors, and when I realized this, I also realized just how much richer stories are when we see deeper meanings in them, when we look for wisdom, not just rules. I remember as a youth being taught the story of the loaves and fishes, a story mentioned in all four Gospels, as merely a miracle by God on Earth; I was 25 when I heard someone tell the story as an encouragement to share, because if we pool our resources, we have all we need to take care of everyone - and more - and that the acts of young people do matter, can make a difference, are needed. De-emphasizing the divine, the superpower and, instead, looking at the metaphors, the implied lessons, made the story so much more, and I felt much more connected to the storytellers who made up the story, because I think it's the metaphor that was important to them more than the divine.

So I like adhering to the common human practice of seeing the year coming to an end in winter, of thinking of life metaphorically and this marking the end of a chapter, and as it dies out, new things are born, plants are renewed, and maybe I can revitalize in some ways. 

Happy Reflecting. Happy New Year.