Where are you going? Where have you been?

This is the title of a Joyce Carol Oates' book that I haven't read, but it's a title I've always liked. I think it is a nice way I think about one's life and especially Dec 31.

On the New Year, I always post this: Happy Arbitrary Time Delineation Day! Not that the Gregorian calendar is arbitrary, but there are like 12 30+ others, including the Hebrew calendar and the Chinese calendar. Time is a construct we make so while I own calendars and follow calendars, I also believe they are bogus. 

How do I exist in this world being such a fucking buzzkill, you ask? 

I don't even know.

Time is weird. It can fly by; it can crawl by. Sometimes time feels like a fever-dream. When I reflect back on the past year, it doesn't feel real to me. I can't believe it hasn't been a year since my trip to Ecuador because it feels like 1,000 years. Although maybe by April, the year anniversary of the trip, it will feel like just the blink of an eye.

Because of the weirdness of time, it can make it difficult to reflect on it on a specific designated day, like today/tonight/tomorrow. Maybe I'm not feeling reflective? Maybe I'm just ornery and don't want to reflect when society tells me I need to?

There is a lot of pressure with the new year, just as there is with Christmas holidays. There is a pressure to create (or recreate) magic at Christmas, and there is a pressure to be resolute, to make changes, to become a new and better, stronger, more powerful version of YOU with the minute hand ticking. 

And I reject this completely, mostly because I'm allowed to since my kids don't care if I make resolutions or strive to be a better me. (They would have a shitfit, however, if I tried to not do Christmas.)

For the moment, I'm ok with who I am now. I went through my big workout and try to ward off middle-age phase after my third child was born 13 years ago. I long ago decided that getting a PhD probably isn't something I aspire to. I recently wrote a literary essay for publication that drove me insane to complete and made me question what my "writing life" is and what I want it to be. None of this required me to make a decision on Dec 31 or Jan 1. 

I don't need this day or tomorrow to be reflective. I guess some people do, and since I'm a fan of reflecting and metacognating, then kudos to those who do it tonight or tomorrow. But if you're not one of those folks, and you feel like a slug or a loser because you aren't motivated to extol your great PLANS for 2023, let it go. Just as time is a social construct, so is this expectation of growth, of change, of great personal fulfillment decided in one 24-hour period. 

You don't have to buy into it.