Spinning 2025

Little wheel spin and spin, / Big wheel go round and round.

           Buffy St. Marie

I'm not going to contaminate this pristine page by listing all the crimes and indecencies committed by our executive, nor shall I dwell on the unconscionable indifference to human life in Ukraine and Gaza and the high seas. Sadly, 2025 will also be remembered as the year of two devastating fires. 

Instead, I am looking for good news. It does seem that the calendar has moved very slowly. The best news is that the year is just about over. My main takeaway is to take it away. I’m ready to gather these past twelve months in a Hefty bag and dump them in the non-recyclable bin.

Here's something to note: the grasshopper sparrow is making a comeback, and let us not forget, the Galapagos tortoise isn’t extinct after all. In fact, science has discovered 70 new species this past year even as 3,000 are now on the endangered list……along with objective truth which has taken a big hit along with compassion. Our planet is twice as green as it was two decades ago. New greenery has been planted the size of the Amazon Rainforest largely due to efforts in China and India. However, my three-year-old orchid finally committed suicide.

Then there is eggplant parmigiana, everything bagels and my discovery of a new flavor ice cream called Black Cherry Root Beer Float and, of course, all things pumpkin. Furthermore, I can report that the dog I don't have didn't die. 

On good days I can shed my walker and manage with a quad cane. Give me a top hat and I’m indistinguishable from Fred Astaire except I can’t sing or dance and Ginger is nowhere in sight. 

I find that the sight of me with a walker brings out kindness in others, such as holding a door open. In a strange way, I feel we are helping each other. I've seen faces change. Their moment of caring is a gift I have given them; an opportunity for both of us to tap into our well of humanity in that brief interchange.  

The Janus Head New Year's Day prescribes a farewell and then a hello. At this age I’m eager for more hellos. More days of wonder and ponder. I hope not to leave this realm with such a contemptible man at the helm. Somewhere along the way, his supporters have become a congregation of the lost.

Time is what I’ve grown to treasure, to halt the hours, to in-dwell and cherish the surround of love I have come to know. The country is scarred but I still try to meet each day with reverence and gratitude.

I can't come to the phone right now. I’m communing with the last leaf on the coral tree outside the window clinging to a memory of summer. The two of us.

As Robert Bly put it in his poem, Wanting To Steal Time,………….Every noon as the clock hands arrive at twelve, / I want to tie the two arms together, / And walk out of the bank carrying time in bags.