The Long Hall and the Blank Door
So – December 31st.
Every year, we stand in a long hall, staring at a door. We can see the side facing us, the details of the year coming to an end. The other side, once we open it, will be blank, fresh, waiting for the details to be written, inscribed on its surface.
2012 is a door I should, by all rights, be in no hurry to open. 2011 has been very good to me.
I went online this year. I put ten years of writing up for readers to review, pick apart and (hopefully) buy. It’s been a learning experience. Promotion is exhausting, far more than I ever expected. But I’ve been treated very well by reviewers and readers and recently, I’m actually selling a decent number of copies (of ‘Mindbenders’ in particular). The sequel to that book is going well and this blog and the books have gained me a new group of friends.
My personal universe grew as well. I met a woman who’s enriched my life in a thousand ways and who continues to surprise and delight me daily. She’s helped me blossom into a more expansive spirit and a bigger world and I foolishly think I’ve helped her learn a thing or two (despite the fact that she is, obviously, always right).
My son is healthy, growing and learning and experiencing a new life in a new place. We don’t see each other as often as we used to and that’s an unhappy development, but maybe that’s simply one of the things we have to work on.
So I have lots of reasons to linger in the doorway, to hesitate before turning the doorknob to the new year. But that’s not me.
I have a dear friend who keeps telling me these are the good old days. And he’s right in part – this year has been very good. But what he really means is that life is inevitably going downhill and I’ll resist that viewpoint as long as I can.
I’ve always looked ahead, my whole life. I’m an unreasonable optimist and comfortable with that prism. As long as there are possibilities, my world keeps expanding. Sometimes the growth is painful and scary but growth, I’m convinced, is the only youth tonic that really exists.
Doors open for us to walk through. That’s what doors are for.