New Year’s Eve

It’s supposed to snow starting tonight. And more tomorrow. We will stay in, maybe go for a walk or a short cross-country ski.

I feel solemn and sad. I am stuck in the middle of all the problems of 2025. And getting old. And Sam is getting old. I think I need to work on gratitude.

I brought in a huge tree from the yard this year. It takes up a tremendous amount of space in the living room. This photo was taken on Christmas Day, when it also snowed. It’s been a snowy December. I used to love and be so excited by snow, now it seems routine. Maybe I can recapture some of the love.

I’m reading Du Fu (712–770), a famous Chinese poet. He lived during the Tang dynasty and experienced a truly disastrous period in Chinese history, the An Lushan rebellion of 755. Millions of people were killed. (I use that fact to gain perspective on our current situations, where human life is so threatened.) His life after the rebellion was that of a refugee, always on the move with his family, with inadequate resources. But he kept writing poetry. I have several different translations of his poems and am enjoying comparing them. I also have a biography/travelogue, following in his footsteps. This is a long-term project. Maybe I’ll write a blog post about it.

I’m turning 70 in January. I’ve accomplished a year-long daily blogging effort twice, once when I turned 50, again when I turned 60. So it’s on my mind that I should do it again. I’m not clear on what I would choose as a guiding topic though. The year I turned 50, I wrote a 50-word piece every day about someone I knew. It’s here. The year I turned 60, I documented our push to finish remodeling on the house in Connecticut and make the move to Maine. It’s here (tagged “60” in this blog). That year included the women’s march and DJT’s first inauguration.

I will think about it some more. I’m afraid of making the commitment. Can I do it? Is it worthwhile?

I’ve been thinking about two memorable interactions with my sisters when we were together in Quebec City:

• My youngest sister reminded me that our mom had a tendency to use big words in her speech. Both of us shared that tendency – our reading vocabulary being pretty large, and sometimes a big word slips out, because it’s so – apropos. My sister’s example was “albeit.” Usually we try to self-censor when a big word bubbles up, but sometimes the right word just has to be said. This happened to me recently and I said the word, but unfortunately, I can’t remember what it was.

• My second youngest sister took advantage of our being together to give me an early 70th birthday present and card, and make a little speech. I squirmed and felt very uncomfortable. I don’t like the feeling of being “the oldest” and imagine all my other siblings looking and watching as I get older and older. I don’t like the feeling of being in the lead or being any kind of role model, good or bad. After I wallowed in negativity awhile, my Buddhist studies kicked in and I realized – I don’t have to feel this way. This is an “identity” thing, a part of my relative identity, but not part of my real self, which is empty of inherent existence. I can’t explain it very well, but when I realized this, I felt a tremendous sense of freedom.