Hope is contagious. I never realised this until last night.
She wanted to go to see the fireworks for NYE… in the city… with thousands of people.
These days I couldn’t think of anything worse. But I had to remember that when I was 19, it’s something I would’ve been excited about too. So I agreed. After all, it’s my job really.
That afternoon I began the tedious task of working out the logistics of how to make it doable, with as little stress and anxiety triggers as possible. Thankfully though, when we met up, she had a plan… and it was a great plan. The place we found ourselves was on the outskirts of the city, with perfect views, surrounded by a chilled bunch of people relaxing on the grass with picnic blankets and nibblies. Definitely more my pace… and hers too it seems. Doing this job has definitely made me begin to believe that nothing is coincidental. It never ceases to amaze me how well my clients and I match.
We celebrated the coming in of the New Year, and then headed home. It was in the drive home, listening to her excitement about the coming year, placing so much emphasis on this changeover, that I came to realise I had lost that sense of hope. And recognised also, how sweet it is. Maybe it was that, combined with being taken back to the days where I would stare with a child’s eyes at the wondrous display of awe-invoking, colourful bursts into the night sky… but a small, long-forgotten part of myself become reignited, and I couldn’t help but get caught up in the energy of possibility. I smile as I write this. It feels good. It feels innocent. It feels honouring to allow myself that somewhat childish hope that this year… this year might be different. Different from what, I don’t know. But it feels kind of nice to just let go and play along. To put the “adult” on the backburner for a moment.
So, here’s to a New Year. I hope you can reconnect to that part of you that believes in magic and wonderment ?
