1. It's never too late to have a happy new year.
on fresh starts, false starts, and full moons
My husband and I rang in the new year in separate rooms: midnight had the audacity to occur in the middle of a brief but ugly flare of an argument. It happens less than it used to but more than I’d like: our edges get frayed and our egos get fraught and we fight, human as we are. My son I and stood in the kitchen and morosely watched the tiny minute hand on my phone’s clock icon strike midnight. We clinked glasses of sparkling apple cider and drank, exchanged a look that said “WELP” and went to bed.
The morning was full of fresh hope and apologies and optimism and coffee and we packed the car with black eyed peas and more sparkling cider and Lacroix to head to an old friend’s house out in Berks County, where other old friends would be gathering for a New Years’ Day party. When we discovered an egregious oil leak that could not be ignored, we rented a car, undaunted. Sure, it was sticky and reeked of weed, but this is Philly and we were lucky to get a car on a holiday. We drove the leaky car to the shop, piled in the sticky car and got halfway to the party when we realized that we were driving on a donut and a tire with a nail in it. No way could we get on the turnpike. We turned around and went home.
It was a bummer and I was disappointed.
AND: then I sat down and wrote for the first time in months, my first post on this new project, this new year of writing, that first day of the year. This thing I’ve most wanted to do, this thing I’m terrified of, this thing that burns in me. This thing that gets forever pushed back, set aside, displaced, for holidays and parties and walking the dog and paying the bills and obviously work and pretty much every other priority: writing. And then, a window of time opened up where before there was no time: a gift. Nothing left to do but write.
My friend Karen has a painting in her kitchen of the 17th Century Mizuta Masahide haiku:
Barn's burnt down --
now
I can see the moon.
I can’t stop thinking about it. Everything should be better than it is. People should be kinder and saner and cars should work and New Year’s Eve toasts should be cheerful and bright, with music and sequins and kisses and gleaming eyes and lipstick. I should be laughing in a warm kitchen with my old friends, someone strumming a guitar.
Earlier in the day, before the fight, we walked along the Schuylkill River. It was impossibly misty- the clouds settled atop the mirrored water and enshrouded the old Water Works building and the train tracks- every vista was a foggy abyss. We accidentally witnessed a marriage proposal at the gazebo and as we walked back through the grand, columned pavilion, twinkling lights and tulle slung below the sky blue ceiling in preparation for that evening’s wedding festivities, I dropped my bag and the dog’s leash and we slow danced, we kissed, we giggled. The dog ran around licking the last wedding’s cake crumbs off the floor, dragging her leash.
Nothing is as it should be,
but sometimes we can see the moon.
One beautiful lesson in life and in recovery is that we can always start over. If you miss the mark on New Year’s Eve? Start over on New Year’s Day! Car breaks down? There’s a full moon coming that completes the cycle. Is your fresh start feeling not-so-fresh? Start your year over at Lunar New Year, Imbolc, Spring Equinox! Time isn’t linear and neither is healing. There are no edges in nature, only circles and cycles - you can always catch the next wave. It’s never too late to have a happy new year.
Home
This weekend we had some lovely houseguests who turned us on to Jazz Loon (you’re welcome!) which we listened to during a particularly raucous game of hot dice. In the morning I made gluten-free oatmeal banana pancakes in a blender. Couldn’t be easier:
Combine in blender:
3 overripe bananas
3 eggs
3/4 cup milk or soymilk
1 1/2 teaspoon vanilla
2 1/4 cup rolled oats
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon cardamom
1/2 teaspoon ginger
1/2 teaspoon salt
dash nutmeg
Blend well and fry ‘em up in the skillet. Enjoy!
The World
Today I’m sharing a book recommendation: Recovering from Emotionally Immature Parents by Lindsay C. Gibson.
As Dr. Gibson states:
Recovering from Emotionally Immature Parents is not about blaming your parents but about rescuing your potential, your confidence, and your self-concept from emotional takeovers by others. You’ll learn about the roots of emotional coercion and how we give up mental freedom and emotional autonomy in our urgency to mollify EI parents’ emotional insecurities… The greatest proof of any self-actualization effort is that you stay connected with yourself no matter what someone else tries to make you into.
I really like the framework of “Emotionally Immature People” because it gets us away from inappropriately diagnosing or labeling people. I think that emotional immaturity is more the norm than the exception in our culture, which is structured by systems of oppression that feed and thrive on disconnection and broken bonds. I think it’s brave and loving to begin to see your own lineage from a cause-and-effect perspective, and take responsibility to heal that dynamic moving forward. Though labels and diagnoses are useful in naming, categorizing, and understanding specific sets of behaviors, it is actually inappropriate for us to diagnose our loved ones with mental health disorders without their consent and without the help of a trained professional (I have definitely been one to do this in the past, and I’m working to change this!). What IS appropriate, and even imperative, is to focus on naming and understanding specific behaviors and dynamics within families and how to respond effectively to them in order to reclaim one’s selfhood. If this book has helped you, let me know in the comments!
The Moon
This weekend the Full Moon in Cancer is shining upon us. This morning I pulled the Eight of Cups from the beautiful Modern Witch tarot deck, a card with its own beautiful full moon shining down:
The Eight of Cups represents stepping away from the crowd and going on one’s own new journey. This card seems misplaced at first, because the energy seems to be the opposite of the theme that I have experienced with this full moon: connections with friends. But on closer examination, it feels so right: it represents a letting go of the past, a giving up on false expectations, a willingness and commitment to following one’s own truth and wisdom, a great adventure of self-discovery. The name of this card in the Golden Dawn tarot is “Lord of Abandoned Success.” Indeed. It is January after all. Named for Janus, the two-faced god, looking back and looking forward, a doorway. Today, the Yule tree will come down and become goat food. The lights of solstice come indoors and become the light of the hearth, the altar, the inner world. I’m wishing each of you a good journey. Thank you for being here. Blessed Yule and Happy New Year! I hope you get to see the moon. ❤️