I’m sitting in my back yard drinking a glass of pinot noir and writing. Here’s the blog post I just put up at Counterintuity. Then my intention is to move on to my book.
In the meantime, I can’t help noticing how either indecisive or unsatisfied my dog is. She’s a 16-and-a-half-year-old mix (three quarters Australian Shepherd and one quarter Black Labrador), and judging solely from the past 30 minutes, she can’t decide if she’d rather be outside with me (pluses: near me and outside; minus: somewhat chilly) or inside with my kids who are playing Minecraft (pluses: near them and warm; minus: they’re so thoroughly engrossed in their game that the likelihood of their opening the refrigerator door is nil). I think overall this dog is now part of another breed I have known: indecisive / neurotic / fidgety elders.
Someone in one of the houses nearby is playing scales on a clarinet. A Christmas present, perhaps. I’m glad to hear it. But then, it’s 3:24 p.m. Good to hear now — but I don’t want to hear it at 7 a.m.
I’ve been struck today by how many of my Facebook friends have eagerly welcomed 2015 because, they say, 2014 was such a horrible year for them. (An annus horibilis.) All experiences are particular — just as all existence is individual — so there can’t be any debating their response. But I can say that I had a terrific year. I had a fine time skiing with my family (and hope to do that again in February), took my daughter to New York City and skeet shooting in New Jersey, had a glorious time in Nashville, successfully completed my board presidency with one non-profit, ascended in leadership with another that I care deeply about, and watched with appreciation and pride as new management succeeded with my theatre company. Business was robust, health was good, I had lots of enjoyable time with friends and family, I wrote a short play or two and made good progress on a longer one and am well into writing a book. I share all this not as a way to lord it over those who are glad 2014 is gone — I have had years like that myself, of course — but to document it because, of course, the screw always turns. I just feel grateful. Every single day.
The future arrives anew every day. Welcome to 2015. It’s going to last only a year. We should do our best to make the most of it.