year's end

on resolution and practice

blast from thee past

There’s a poem I dig by Dana Gioia called New Year’s and it begins,

Let other mornings honor the miraculous.
Eternity has festivals enough.
This is the feast of our mortality,
The most mundane and human holiday.

I don’t care deeply about New Year’s Eve. This was a posture maintained for years out of necessity. Teens to mid-twenties, I’d …