Well, here we are again, at the beginning of a new year. And here in Tulsa, the weather has taken note. This morning it was 15 degrees. No snow, but cold. Very cold!
It typically takes me a while to get into the swing of a new year. Maybe you feel the same way. And that’s okay. January is meant to be a month of reflection, more than a month of action.
January is named after Janus, the god with two faces. More than that, he actually appears the same from the front as he does from the back: meaning, he looks the same both coming and going. (Which, if you met him in person, would seem unsettling, yes?)
So the beginning of a new year appears just as Janus does. A little unsettling. No matter what the calendar says about a new date or what our resolutions say about new behavior, January always begins by looking pretty much the same as December.
We are standing on the threshold of what has been and what will be. And Janus is the god of thresholds.
Janus was present at the beginning when all the elements were together in one single heap. At that time, he was simply Chaos. Then, when fire, air, earth, and water separated, Janus took form. As a testament to his own beginning, his two faces see the confusion from whence he came and the possibility of what is to come.
Maybe January feels like that for you. Here we are again with Covid19 – a new variant, same disease. Maybe you are, once again, quarantining and doubling down on masks. Maybe your plans for travel or fun have, once again, been disrupted. Maybe you are, once again, contemplating how you will pay your bills or whether you should change jobs, or whether you should move. Do you risk making plans? Should you purchase those tickets or not?
Here we are, again, at a threshold: hoping for possibility amidst the chaos.
As I shared in a post a few weeks back, December is always challenging for me. And you can pretty much bet that anytime I am emotionally out of sorts, I start questioning my writing. Is it any good? What’s the point? Am I really writing on my topic or am I just verbally vomiting? Does anyone care? I mean, there are a LOT of writers out there!
I really don’t want to do this just to feed my ego. I’d rather be a hermit than that. I’m not looking for likes or for praise. I actually want to help. I want to inspire. I want to be part of a conversation that we are having together. But maybe I’m just pontificating. Maybe I’m just blowing words, like bubbles, into the air. This is a frequent battle with my insecurities. Headlocks, grinds, bridging and stalling, and just as I am almost pinned to the ground, someone will tell me that something I wrote really mattered. Then I go limp with emotion. Even more emotion than when I write. Don’t worry – I’m an emotional person. Kleenex occupies every room and tears are as frequent as laughing. I think that’s a good thing.
The trouble is, I always struggle with how much to reveal about myself. Like I did just there about my insecurities and crying. I’m far more comfortable writing in the third person. I’ve never shied away from honesty. (I can hear some friends laughing – I can be disarmingly honest, surprisingly honest, maybe even brutally honest at times.) I’ll answer any question you ask me. Only, I reserve that for friends, not the public.
I think I’m beginning to understand that you, my readers, are my friends. Which you are, of course, but my writing is very public. It’s one thing to reveal myself to you in a conversation and quite another thing for that revelation to be in print. The day will probably come when I am trolled and then I’ll have to deal with that. But for now, I am grateful that you hold the space for my words, raw as they may sometimes be. As I recommit myself to writing in 2022, pledging you new content for this next year, I also commit to being open and honest with you; to share vulnerably and from the heart, as well as from my mind.
Looking back at my posts from last year, I’m surprised to see what was most read. So in case you missed these posts, here are the top five (outside of what was written in December or for other holidays):
1. Feeding Ducks and Being Fed – After downsizing and clearing away so many possessions in 2018, I was surprised to discover something I still had from my childhood, something that I was never particularly attached to. When I unpacked it this year, I realized it now has a lot more meaning for me.
2. The Women Who Came Before Us – Remembering our mothers and grandmothers and great aunts and all the women whose lives impacted our own. In particular, I recall a moving story that my Grama Baird often told me.
3. Sweet Home Chicago – On the 184th birthday of Chicago, I recall how the places where we grew up become imprinted on us. Chicago, the home of my youth, will always be a part of me.
4. Mom, Home, and Play – Mom is a metaphor for home, yet there is no one way to be a mother. My mother was playful but she didn’t exactly play with her kids. In fact, I think she liked us better when we were adults. My mom did, however, give us other gifts.
5. The Table Where We Live – As Covid has forced many of us to work from home, our dining tables are doing double-duty. What, really, is the purpose of a dining table? I suggest they’re a lot more than we may think.
What was your favorite post of this last year? Is there anything I wrote that you continue think about?
More importantly, as you stand in the threshold between years, what do you want to take with you into 2022 and what will you leave behind? Before committing to something new, what from 2021 is worthy of bringing forward? Out of the chaos, what brought you comfort and order? What do you wish to keep and expand on? Then, as you look ahead, what is something new you will focus on?
Stand in the doorway and look both ways.
Before you step off the threshold, look both ways.
When you are ready, and only when you are ready, take your first steps and begin.
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The question of how much to expose yourself in writing is a perennial. You're navigating it well, I think. I feel connection to you because of emotions we have both felt. I guess that's the idea, isn't it?
On this January 6 I'm getting a weird sense of déjà vu, and this picture of Janus personifies it.
As far as opening up, you can tell I usually prefer the safety of the mask of humor, although I do have a tendency to be more candid than I realize, if that makes any sense.
BTW, cool mirror picture.