New Year

‘Hey, Anna. Are you excited about New Year?’

‘No, Hiroshi. My mother told me that every day is the start of something new – it just depends where you put your beginnings and endings.’

‘That’s so dull!’

‘Well, it depends.. It feels wonderful for me. I like the slow and reliable continuation of things. Time travels in different ways for everyone.’

‘Oh. So you don’t want to celebrate then?’

‘I’m sure I will celebrate New Year when I feel like getting round to it. It may just be a little bit later than most other people.’

‘You have a funny brain!’

‘I know- huh! Different is good. It makes me laugh sometimes.’




I am carving out my own little niche in the world and it is really quite cosy. Sometimes I peer out, but usually I stay and sit quietly within- like a letter tucked inside an envelope. I can forget that this is a place I have made all myself; from backbone, grit, ache and belief. I know I must keep on carving my hollow, both in times of bewilderment and times of assurance. The further I go, the more I feel rooted.

I am becoming more of myself each day:

Not old. Not new. Just the deep of a furrow, I have hewn.