The Thrill of Hope (and a clean slate)

I wish Banksy would do a piece in…Cleveland, TN.

I am thoroughly convinced that New Year’s Eve is the best celebration of the entire calendar year.

True, Christmas is of course charming and wonderful, but there’s just something about December 31st. The last final flash of magic of the Christmas season thrives on that night. And finally, when the clock strikes twelve, the grandeur of the season is over, only to be replaced by one of the greatest qualities of humanity: hope.

…That tiny spark which ignites within you at the beginning of the year, promising that the best is always yet to come.

New Year’s is blissfully idealistic (sometimes to a fault), offering mystery and allure. After all, who wouldn’t like a clean slate? Perhaps that’s why resolutions are often so aggressive; the hope for complete lifestyle change is too appealing to pass up.

2012, what a year. Twelve little months have held so much heartache and joy, growth and regression, and countless lessons learned.

Everything has changed. Case in point, this time last year I wasn’t even acquaintances with some of my current closest friends! I never thought I’d spend my summer halfway across the country, never dreamed I’d be spending a spring in England, never would have guessed I’d decide to pursue a writing career, never imagined I’d begin running.

I knew nothing of what 2012 held and let’s be honest, I’m even more in the dark about 2013. After graduating, I haven’t a clue. But that’s the beauty of the new year. You don’t have to know, but you must trust in the hope that one day you’ll look back and say “Wow, I worried for nothing. Everything worked out extraordinarily.” God’s got you.

Oscar Wilde was right: “The suspense is terrible. I hope it lasts.”