I saw a shooting star when I was out running this dark, early morning. That’s exciting for many reasons, but primarily because 1) I was out running this dark, early morning, and 2) I saw a shooting star!
That bright solitary shooter lifted my mood in the way shooting stars do, and it helped me finish a tough run with unexpected oomph. It also reminded me that the Geminid Meteor Shower is this week, Thursday and Friday. I’ll be out there watching, bundled up against the cold, mug of hot chocolate in hand, perhaps something harder. I’ll take the quiet time as a chance to look at the past year.
2012. It’s been a dilly and it’s not over yet There’s the Geminid this week, the end of the world on the 21st (as if!), Christmas on the 25th, and a New Year’s Eve 5K run on the 31st. It’s a busy few days wrapping up a busy year.
In Madame Bovary, Gustav Flaubert wrote of Emma:
She did not believe that things could remain the same in different places, and since the portion of her life that lay behind her had been bad, no doubt that which remained to be lived would be better.
If you know much about Emma Bovary, you know things didn’t turn out to be better for her. But I’m going to ignore her end for now and think about her hope instead, especially as the new year approaches. For me, 2012 was manic. Heart-pumping highs, heart-breaking lows. As 2013 gets ready to chime in, remnants of the highs and lows linger. It’s going to be a year of decisions and changes. I’m not a fan of decisions and changes. I like static; it’s easier. But new years hold the promise of new hope, new oomph, new excitement. Even after welcoming in 50 of them, I still feel that way.
So, with a wit more wisdom and a smidge less naivete than Madame Bovary, I’m keeping the promise of hope and looking forward to 2013 with the thought that no doubt that which remains to be lived will be better. Not that it’s been all bad. It certainly hasn’t. I’ve enjoyed far more than my share of heart-pumping highs and I’m going to do my part to make sure that continues. I’m going to keep running, I’m going to keep writing, and I’m going to keep looking for shooting stars.
PS: Happy birthday, Gustav Flaubert