It was a choice between 2 photos on the Līgo Haibun Challenge this week. Since we have just stepped into a New Year, my preference happened naturally…
Walking from the old year into a new one is almost like a walk across a bridge. As short. Or as long. Full of hopes about what is waiting there, on the other side. Memories and thoughts about what has been left behind. A hinge of sadness, a sparkle of joy. Mind full of probabilities and possibilities. Or maybe empty. As empty as possible not to drag along the old negativity, offenses and quarrels. Not only ready once again to accept once the well – known things but also open for surprises. More peace and less fuss. Or the other way around. More smiles and less tears. The ones when heart is wrenching in sadness, not the ones of joy – there can never be too much of the latter ones. And promises. The ones I make to somebody else and the ones made to myself. Plenty of resolutions. About aiming higher, being better, reaching more. Wanting more. Deserving more? Why? Just because I am crossing the bridge? Because in a couple of seconds instead of “13” there is “14” in the numerals of the year? Was I so useless all 365 days before the 1st of January? Does the fact that year is changing really changes me, too? Who am I trying to fool?
There’ s a belief I have heard about. About crossing the bridge one never has before, wishing for something and it would come true. So, crossing this bridge I wish to promise myself nothing. Nothing but simply being myself – for better or for worse but to stay true to the way I am, what I believe in. Everything else? Changes will come, either I want it or not and, being myself, I will be able to face them. Like I always had to. Like I always have. More or less. Before and after every new bridge.
for better or worse
I promise myself nothing
year is still young