The Curtain Falls on 2014

Another year is closing. It's a wrap. Stick a fork in it; it's done. So we turn the page, and move forward into another annum.

Life seems to be a constant process of moving on. We make our mistakes, hopefully learn from them, even more hopefully we forgive ourselves for them, and then move on and try not to repeat them. People that we know and possibly love pass through -- sometimes changing their sphere of circulation with a relocation or an altered circle of friends, sometimes passing from this life, this world entirely.

I tend to be somewhat reflective, especially at this time of year. Historically, my new-year celebration is more quiet reflection in solitude than reveling in a crowd.

The end of the year is an artificial boundary as are so many things in life. It actually just keeps on rolling on, and life itself doesn't care about our bookkeeping. There is only NOW.

I appreciate that view, but find it of little value. In my NOW moment, I am here alone, everyone else asleep in the house (except for sweet and faithful Sadie, our dog). Many of those I have known in my journey to this NOW moment have long become unavailable to me; they are solidly part of the PAST.

Fittingly, I passed a former girlfriend in a shopping mall yesterday. It has been 30 years since I last saw her. Yesterday she was almost past me before I recognized who she was. She didn't stop and turn around as I did, though in that brief flash of eye contact as our paths literally crossed once again, in that instant, I'm sure I saw recognition in her eyes. But in that NOW moment, we were locked into our history, the story of our lives in which we had become strangers separated by a great, yawning chasm of time and separate activity -- two travelers moving infinitely farther away from each other within the same metropolitan area.

I am slow to forgive myself for past mistakes -- even minor ones -- and they often pop into my mind to torment me at unwelcome times. It is one of my shortcomings; I have a difficult time completely moving on. At those moments, I often wish that I could go back and do an episode over again differently, say a different thing, make a different choice, be more honest in expressing my feelings, or be more kind in my honesty. Had I been smarter, more generally aware, there were things with that long-lost girlfriend that I would have done differently (not only her, but several others as well), which surely would have altered our physics, our orbits, our states of mind, our paths into the future.

But whatever the incident from my past, that play is over, the curtain has come down, and it's now history, alive only in my imperfect memory.

So tonight is the opening night on another show. We ride our NOW moment forward from the final act of this calendar year. We are all adventurers forging into the unknown tomorrow.

Happy new year, and happy shaving!