I remember the nicest birthday card I’d ever received — it was during a year when I needed to see it the most and from one of the people that I needed to see it the most from. The card read: “I hope this year is your year,” and I felt better upon reading it. I’m not going to lie, I can be the type of person who digs his heels in because it doesn’t feel right when someone is trying to coax me out — a high anxiety response, I’m sure.
The truth is, sometimes we do feel like we need permission to get out of our funks. What I couldn’t see then, and I’m sure that you’ll agree with me if you’ve ever been there, is that I have the power to give myself permission to get myself out of my funk. Yes, life hit me in the mouth and it hurt — I was hurt, but I wasn’t dead. I could still fight back and I could still move from the position that I was in. So, that’s what I did. That was a powerful moment with that card in my hand; I had permission and acknowledgement that the coming year was going to be my year.
The year that followed wasn’t that bad. I can’t remember hitting any homers, but I do know that I changed my perspective.
That’s where you come in, loyal readers: this is me, channeling the signals of the Universe, telling you that you have permission to have the greatest year possible. It is certainly within our right and expectation to hope for good for ourselves, provided that we’re willing to put the work into it. I sit down at my keyboard and I start typing with the intent of writing the next great American novel — now, that sounds mighty conceited, but nothing earth-shaking ever came from thinking on micro-levels. The next great American novel has to be written, why not me? A great year has to come someone’s way, why not you?
I wish you all the greatest year possible — I thank you, sincerely, for the love and support. I hope you all know: I write for me, but I edit and release for you. Without you, I’d just be holed up in a room and writing for no one. You all are my reason.
“Should auld acquaintances be forgotten and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintances be forgotten and days of auld lang syne.”