Good Beginnings, Bad Endings

Shortly before midnight this past New Year's, I felt wildly optimistic about the coming year. I had a few plans, several goals, and generally felt pretty damned good about things. I remember walking home from the bar that warmer-than-usual night and discovering a gorgeous moon peaking above the trees near the library in downtown Manitou Springs. I felt so good about everything. I told myself that I should enjoy the moment, and so I did, deliberately and enjoyingly inhaling and exhaling the positive vibes.

The next morning, one of the first things that crossed my mind was a simple, What if a good beginning leads to horrible ending? Like, what if the year starts out really good and then goes sour and ends up being a shitty fucking year? I began wondering if maybe I shouldn't feel so damned good about everything.

I'm only superstitious about certain things. I wear the same shirt, socks, and pants each time I play golf. I'm also a little superstitious about good beginnings and bad endings on the golf course: when I begin playing really well, making great shots, chips and putts, I often end up struggling to hit my patented long-drives and just keeping the golf ball on the fairways. Usually, when I start out playing bad, I end up playing well, though this doesn't happen as much as I'd like.

And so I began contemplating all the bad things that could happen over the next twelve months.

Of course there were some things to worry about. My parents, especially my Mama. I worry about some of my family members, many of my friends, and coworkers. Plus what if the economy crashed and we were all without jobs? What if I need another root canal? I had four of them last year! And speaking of which, last year started out rough and ended up ... with me quietly dancing along Manitou Avenue under the moonlight on New Year's Eve.

Well, it's December now, and this has been a crazy fucking year. The pandemic hit like a freight train out of nowhere: instant, brutal, deadly, and ongoing in seeming perpetuity. My family lost a loved one to the lockdowns. Relationships have been severed with both friends and family this year. Most of my plans are trashed, and some of them were extremely important to me. When I realized in April that one of my plans were destroyed by the edicts of economic destruction raining down from the governor's office, I felt hopeless. This was a plan that I had based a five-year plan on.

Now that's gone, and so are many of my other goals, plans, and dreams. So much has changed, too.

I used to wish for a time when everyone was online. Now I wish more people were off the Internet. Some days, I feel like giving up the Internet for good and moving to some quiet, off-grid commune in a woody forest, forever forgotten. Many of the relationships I had before the pandemic have changed. Sometimes, I feel there's a disconnect with not seeing people in person for long periods of time that few people talk about. I miss the days of seeing random strangers smiling at me at the grocery store. Nowadays, all I see are masked people, eyes without faces, many of them lost in weird mental spaces.

Yesterday, the governor extended his mask mandate by another thirty days. I see more signs of resistance growing among business owners and a public tired of being told what to do. I also see more people clamoring to be told what to believe, think, feel, and do. I feel sorry for these people. They are like prisoners.

But it has been a good year in some ways. We moved to a new house with wooden floors. I've made new friendships. I joined a new gym that I really like. And unlike this time last year, I'm actually paid to write, a goal I finally achieved this past year. I have also become a bit more stoic, preferring not to let highs and lows guide my life.

I'm not sure what 2021 will bring, and I don't know that I want to look too far into the future again. Five-year plans may be a relic of an ancient way of life. I mainly focus on short-term goals and plans, which isn't all that bad. I do have a new long-term plan or two.

So, I don't know that I want a good or great beginning to 2021. I also don't want a shitty start, either, even though it is possible that the end of next year could be the Greatest Fucking Thing Ever. But the odds are against that.

One thing I've learned to do during this pandemic is to appreciate the small little things a bit more. A friendly wave. A text message saying, "Hello!" Paying it forward in small acts of kindness, and so on. These are things I can focus on and not worry about how the new year starts. I think this the best way forward.

If I could go back in time and see myself walking along Manitou Avenue on New Years and under a beautiful moon, I'd just have smiled and said, "You're gonna be just fine, buddy."

I hope you have a safe New Year's.