New Leaves

As we arrive at the new year it seems appropriate to think about the expression new leaves. It seems only a few weeks ago that the last tree on our property shed its final batch of beautiful red and gold --the finery of a Japanese maple of towering size and canopy that spends most of the year dressed in somber green. The literal expression reflects this autumnal rite, but in common use it suggests a turning point, the adoption of a new identity or change in our way of life. Does it strike you as odd that we see it this way rather than as renewal?

For many of us the new year signals a Fall equivalent to Spring cleaning. It is a time to prepare ourselves for the year ahead and to rid ourselves of the baggage of the last. In our home we mimic the trees, shredding outdated papers, donating objects and clothing we no longer need or use, the bounty going to our local charity. Part of my ritual includes the dreaded preparation of documents for the accountant, always a fraught moment anticipating the lottery of surprise or dismay at the outcome. In short we try to be thoughtful about the year to come readying ourselves for the new experiences that we hope lie ahead.

This shedding of the old leaves and preparation for the new conveys a sense of optimism or at least hope that this year will be better than the last and indeed they are never the same. But despite the fact that some of us resolve to change our ways, to be better, to do long postponed tasks, or attend to much needed improvements in ourselves it seldom seems to play out as we hoped. Recidivism creeps in before long and we slide back encrusted with prevarications we've invented to soothe our conscience. So, yes--we may not always turn over the leaves as much as we prepare to renew them, for better or worse.

I'm going to try something new this year and I invite you to join me if you like. I won't pretend that in my advancing years I can change my entire life, there are rather fewer years ahead than behind. But I can choose one act, one nagging pang of regret or unresolved action to attend to and make that the singular focus of my energies until it is accomplished. I know it will not be easy--if it were I would have resolved it long ago, and gained a measure of peace. Before the new leaves bud this year I possess a brief window of opportunity to shape the outcome. Wouldn't it be wonderful to shed a lingering relic of a past I cannot change to welcome a future that awaits.

I'll let you know how it all works out in some future post, and I wish you success should you decide to follow my lead. As I wrote recently, my failing memory betrays me. I cannot be certain that what I recall is fabric or fabrication, what was or what I wish it had been. Maybe it is age, but I think often of Paul's observation "For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known" And when next year rolls around as I hope it will, maybe I will know in part and see just a little less darkly.