To me, the time of the new year’s bells it pinches me in the stomach. It makes me nervous that half an hour before, that countdown where you are aware that time is pushing you forward. I have always considered the arrival of the new year as a breath of fresh air, no matter how bad the circumstances or uncertainty. With everything lived and survived in these moments, I feel that it is a fortune to reach another year with the opportunity to live. Or to survive. The purpose is usually secondary, because sometimes it is the circumstances that take you the other way.
This is not an article on Mr. Wonderful philosophy. I hit rock bottom years ago, and many I took the grapes thinking if the following year my life would change, without success. Until it happened. And I revived, to live again. Because in addition to having a roof and food, we also need the roses.
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In these overwhelming days of pandemic news and fears, as predictable as it may be, entering a new year is news of hope. Some will say that I am very intense but perhaps I am since I lived in hospitals for so long. I remember when Julia Otero announced her recovery and asked to celebrate every day that our entire organism works, that the cells do their work in a synchronized way without errors and that we can breathe and beat. It might seem silly until one day that fails and you find out it’s almost a miracle.
There will be time to write about the bad things of the present time, but at the beginning of the year we must pay attention to Walt Whitman: “take the roses while you can, fast time flies”. Garcia Lorca always invited to think that everything could be the last time, or the only time, to enjoy it. Perhaps this is a good way to start: be more aware of this. We do not know what 2022 has in store for us. They offer us 365 days to release. Let’s take advantage of what we can and even what they leave us. Even if they try to make us bitter, let’s live. And let’s toast, because there are endings that are the beginning.
Reference-www.elperiodico.com