Over the past few years I've adopted September 1st as my personal new year's day. I have excellent reasons, starting off with the fact that January 1st has got to be the crrrrrappiest time to start a new year. It's cold, dark and miserable, and it's either snowing, slushing, raining or melting. Then there's the ugly reality of the Post-Christmas blues, complete with icky weight gain, scary holiday bills, and the realization that somewhere along the line you probably blew your budget, your diet, or your resolve to get along with your family or your _____ . Add in some new year's resolutions you know you won't keep, and the general lack of energy most folks feel, and, well....
In my world, that's the best way to assure a miserable start to any undertaking.
So I choose to start my year in September, when we're heading into my favourite season of the year. And yes, I AM hoping for a cold snap by the time the fall equinox rolls around on the 22nd. Isn't anyone else sick of summer clothes?
To get in the 'spirit' I call on both old and new, delving into my September/October issues of Victoria magazine (I've almost got a full set), finding healthy recipes for stews and other comfort foods, and lots of sorting and unloading; art supplies, clothes, books, paperwork, you name it. The pièce de résistance? Coming up with a list of all my unfinished projects that I plan to finally let go, finished or not. It feels good.
I'm also indulging in some of my favourite (though slightly melancholy) movies, like Possession (based on the A.S. Byatt book of the same name), Restoration (I still have a crush on David Thewlis after all these years) and one of my all-time faves, Dead Poets Society. The first time I saw this movie I fell deeply and forever in love with two things: Robert Sean Leonard for his protrayal of Neil, and the idea of both simplifying and deepening one's life, as presented in the wonderful writings of Henry David Thoreau.
"I went into the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life... to put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived".
Everyone and their dog's ferret has heard this line at one point or another. That doesn't take away from it's beauty. With any luck, I'll also be able to borrow my mama's copy of Immortal Beloved again. Gary Oldman as a troubled Beethoven. Mmmm....
My preparations are odd. I've accepted this. But surely I'm not the only one who looks forward to a change in season?