“So this is Christmas
And what have you done?
Another year over
And new one just begun
A very merry Christmas
And a happy new Year
Let’s hope it’s a good one
Without any fear”
— John Lennon
I hope you all had a very merry day yesterday. I know I did. The best thing about Christmas in this town is that it’s really just the beginning of what’s to come for this new year.
Like years of Crystal Palace performers before us and little JGP actors after us, we’ve rehearsed and gone over our lines and know when to exit stage left to the far side of the sidewalk, or excitedly enter a gondola car and give directions to the best bar in town. It’s what we do.
I, for one, am ecstatic that the world didn’t end. I mean, I was pretty sure it wouldn’t and that I’d be turning this column in, but I’d lying if I said I didn’t have a teeny tiny seed of concern that the back-up plan would commence. Guess taking all that cash out of the ATM was necessary after all.
You can think I’m airy-fairy all you’d like, but I did notice a general sense of relief Dec. 21, 2012. Town really had the buzz of community spirit running through it, or so it felt. It got me thinking. Why can’t every day of our lives be lived like it’s the last? Why shouldn’t we tell people we love them more, and open doors for people and keep the “Christmas” spirit coursing through our veins all year?
It sounds pretty pleasant, if you ask me.
In light of recent horrific tragedies, I do believe that’s what will get us to a better existence. As Mr. Sundog himself would say, P.O.P. — put out the positive!
With the holiday spirit thick in the air and this, my last column of 2012, I can’t help but feel a little nostalgic and hopeful for the year to come. Many say this is the time of year to make New Year’s resolutions. “Resolution” is reaching a firm decision about something.
That’s nice and all, but firm decisions are reserved for fathers. I like the word “intention” better. It’s so much more fun to intend to do something rather than to resolve to doing it, isn’t it? I mean, making a resolution has good intent, but it feels a little heavy. “I resolve to eat better.” Are you also going to resolve to have no fun? Sheesh.
If I say I’m going to do something and I write it down, chances are it’ll happen. The universe has a cool hocus pocus thing going on and generally hears you when you ask for something. It’s a pretty powerful. Try it.
I intend to ski 100 days this year. Wait, can I change that to 50? I want to succeed in attaining this goal.
I intend to take another fabulous trip or two both near and far so that I may share my stories with you.
I intend to go on a couple girl dates because nothing adds spice to your life like new friends. Just like the old Girl Scout motto says, “make new friends and keep the old, one is silver and the other is gold.”
I intend to remind myself that I am married to a mountain man when I feel frustrated or under-dined. He just wants his outside play-time like any other active breed. And in being his mountain woman, I intend to ask for dinner, a movie and cute snowflake tights, no matter their ridiculous cost. At which point I will join him in hiking the bowl.
In keeping with the positive theme, I intend to have more days of keeping my crusty local heckle at bay, like Dr. Jekyll, and fewer days as an un-friendly Aspen tour guide, like Mr. Hyde. My gondola patience shall be tested.
I intend to use my square footage envy as an inspiration to be more creative with my time inside and out of our happy home.
I intend to keep my survival skills up to date and learn to grow one food item this year in case the back-up Mayan calendar takes effect.
I intend to make more people laugh, or smile, or just take pause and think.
I intend to live a little more like there’s no tomorrow.
Sorry for the extra dose of cheese today. It’s actually not a tough job, so I’m happy to take the lead. It feels like a warm blanket on the inside, and I didn’t even open the whiskey. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em! Happy 2013!
Beth would love to hear your wildest of new year’s intentions. Contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org