The dream of the new year

[kaberett]

May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you're wonderful, and don't forget to make some art -- write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.

... says Neil Gaiman, at intervals, and I know that he is dreadful, and I take issue with the idea of good madness (at least for myself); and yet - and yet, this.

Because: the days are getting longer, and light is seeping back into the world. Because I've made it halfway through winter. Because it reminds me to find other people wonderful, and to trust that others might feel similarly about me; because it reminds me to dare to make art.

And: yes, I don't think a changing number in the Gregorian calendar makes a huge difference to What Things Will Be Like, but - it's a useful milestone; a useful waymarker at which to lay down one's load and consider the path ahead. So that's the dream, maybe, but I don't think it's an unrealistic one: that I might have choice, and the space to choose wisely.

Comments

[pipisafoat]

yes yes yes. you. ♥.

also that, perhaps similar to you, I see "good madness" and think of the things my brain has drugs for. (all the things, which is perhaps a slightly wide definition of "madness", but it is my definition for me, so.) and in the "good madness" wish, I can actually find a lot of hope: that my anxiety stops being crippling but doesn't disappear entirely, because it also helps me to stay organized and in touch with people and able to focus on things; that my depression doesn't keep me isolated but still reminds me to appreciate the good, because nothing lasts forever and nothing should be taken for granted; that my emotion-based seizures will stop being fear-driven and give me more unexpected joy (okay, so maybe it's more like mania, technically speaking, but i'm okay with that too); that I appreciate the ways in which my brain works correctly, because brains are intensely complex and it is nothing short of a miracle that they work at all, much less as well as they do for as many people as they do.

but I agree with your assessment of what he was actually trying to say and your potential word choices for that idea.

woooo time for a shower, I'm gonna have an awesome shower. (the little things can become bigger if only you will let them: my current "say it until you believe it" thing. and then i will flip it backwards after and teach myself that big things can become smaller.)

hello. i love you.