No Rush New Year
Art by Alice Savage
There's no rush. No need to bolt towards what has already arrived and smother it with exhortations and expectations, to give it a word or a number or smoosh it into a plan. Uncertainty remains the revolution's greatest tutor because it forces us to cultivate safe places far away from empty narratives and false promises, the webwide directives or the ever changing rules.
Since before the decade turned we have been called home. Back into ourselves, our small lives and the parched patches of the world they unfold upon, where what is truly sacred can be counted on the hands we hold and the life we preserve and protect. Digging down through the layers of old crap and craven consumption to shed the trappings without getting caught in them. Burrowing into what truly madly deeply matters most and grounding ourselves there.
The new year creeps in, mostly while we are sleeping off the old. Its fireworks are flashes that light up how we feel at the threshold. We gulp down its promise. We gently navigate last year's hangovers, tending the marks it left upon us. Wait for it to fall into its place and make some sense that we can't. Not yet.
The word for hindsight arrives in the English language a full century before foresight does. They speak in different tongues. Hindsight delivers a perspective tethered to truth and consequence, borne of what is already said and done and been and gone. Its bounty is in the seeing, savoured not rushed.
Cycles live in our bodies more than on our calendars. The omen days still bids you wait by the shore. Turn the year fading behind you over in soft hands so that it might whisper something truer than its terrors and deeper than its details. Tether the sailboats carting wishes to the moon just risen. Let the tide lap at your ankles until you are ready to swim in its invitations.
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The Sightline Sessions
Cards | Channel | Counsel to usher in your new year. Online to suit you or see me on Fridays at Thistle & Co and Wednesdays Ecotopia
Words c. Kerrie Basha 2025