I love the beginning of things. The blankness of a new notebook before you write on it. It has the potential to be anything. Who knows? Maybe something that is written in the notebook will change a person’s life. If not the writer’s someone else’s. Every word that I have ever read that has touched me could very well begun as marks on a page in a notebook.
Now, according to the calendar of my ancestors, a new year begins. Like that blank notebook, it can become anything. We have only to begin writing it. Oh I feel certain along the way there will be some crossing out of a line here or there. “Well that didn’t work” but by and large I love the mystery and the potential and have hight hopes for this one. After all the last one was amazing for me.
So to anyone who reads this and even to those who won’t, I leave you to your own notebooks. May the lives that you write in them inspire you and others with laughter, tears and the whole gamut and when this year’s volume is ready to be put on the shelf, may it be with joyful remembrances , love and awe and anticipation for the blank year to come.