JANUARY 1, 2022 – For me, turning the calendar page this time around contrasts markedly with all prior turns of the annual page. Rather than jotting down the usual wishful resolutions to “do better” in a host of strivings, I’m staggering and stumbling under the load of heavy baggage. Perhaps I’ve been hauling it around for a long time, with its weight unnoticed and its nature, unidentified.
At a time when the effusive salutation of the day is, “Happy New Year!” what am I to think and say? Is the toast different among friends in the know versus those not yet aware?
If this blog were that of a “professional,” devoted exclusively to one subject or another, I’d say writing about my personal baggage, for crying out loud, would be inappropriate. Moreover, with all the pain, suffering, and injustice—public and private—in circulation, what’s accomplished by knocking people off balance with an oversized valise packed with ugly stuff and swinging unpredictably . . . as I walk aimlessly upon a train platform crowded with human woes? “Move away, old man!” a child shouts, as a cranky old man cries, “Can’t you see we’re all awaiting succor in these troubled times in this troubled place?”
In imagining such talk, my inclination would be to shuffle into the shadows to find a vacant post. Leaning against it, I’d slide down to the cold, hard concrete and swing my overstuffed suitcase onto my lap to block my view of a cold, cruel world. There, wrapped in a coat stained by bad memories, ridden with holes and turned-out pockets, I’d mope in a puddle of self-pity until the dim light yielded to total darkness.
But my reality is different. My “baggage” has drawn neither jeers nor shame but kindness, caring, and sharing that prove unequivocally: I’m rich beyond my ability to comprehend. In coming days I’ll elaborate—in witness to humanity’s capacity for goodness on a scale that overwhelms the world’s penchant for the opposite. (As to my blog, it has no established limits except 500 words per day.)
Meanwhile, motivated by unplanned, unwanted circumstances, I must summon will, thoughts, and memories accumulated along a lifetime of living. Whether I’m now at the start of a short, final trip or destined for a more distant journey can’t be divined until the train—with destination designated by signage affixed to the cars—chugs and clangs into the station. No matter what ensues, as I stride into the new year, I want to be kind and caring, thoughtful and hopeful, alert and aware, positive and appreciative. My New Year’s wish and resolution is that in what remains of life and thereafter, I’ll be remembered not for what baggage I must bear but for how I bear it.
Be the journey short or long, I want my luggage to be indelibly tagged with that wish and resolution.
May the New Year take us all to a better place, and may the journey lead through lands of scenic beauty.
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© 2021 by Eric Nilsson
