Hello and welcome to the first Saturday of December at the Wannaskan Alamanac. Today is December 5th.
As we wind down 2020, this week I found myself repeatedly saying, “I can’t believe it’s already December.” This whole year has been just – bizarre. The ultimate prank. Countless times, I’ve asked myself, and actually blurted out loud, “No really. When is this year really going to start?”
It’s been a fantastically dreadful year. Normally nice neighbors spent the year gnashing teeth over things seemingly out of one’s control. Me included. I’m not even going to waste word count over the litany of absolute crazy 2020 dished out. You already know. I have my list. You have yours. No need to compare notes or do anymore teeth-gnashing over the veracity or validity of one list over another. Let’s agree to agree on this one indisputable fact: 2020 sucked.
Scientists, philosophers, researchers, artists, and therapists will spend the next century puzzling out why this was the stinkiest of years in a long time. On this subject, I had one cohesive thought gel and here it is: Our expectations for 2020 were too high.
2020 just sounds cool, you know? It screams of awesome and we just assumed grand potential for an annual reboot of a soul, a person, a project, a nation. It sounds so dreamy, you’d want to get it tattooed on your arm.
It’s poetic; it’s mathematical. I’ll have to google to confirm my suspicions, but I bet 2020 fulfills many a prophecy if not a cool math trick or two. Like my dad’s and my birthdays. They are 27 years apart so when I was 3 years old, my dad was 30; when I was 14, he was 41; when I was 25, he was 52, and 36 to his 63. If he were still living, his 74 would have complimented my 47.
Maybe 2020 just couldn’t handle it. Maybe the cosmic 2020 was just like, “Whoa, dudes. This is too much pressure! I’m just a year like any other year.”
Maybe karmic 2020 was like, “Look, what goes around comes around. Y’all are pretty terrible to each other anyway, so you know what? I’m just gonna be your mirror, like in that Snow White fairytale so you can see just how much you’re actually the Wicked Queen instead of the innocent Snow you think you are.”
Religious 2020 was like, “Oh, you think you know me, huh? You think you know me? Well, watch this, peeps.”
Or maybe it was just Anger’s turn to get a year. You know, how Merry and Joy always get dibs, especially at Christmas and New Year’s? And Happy is just a holiday hog. Maybe Anger just yanked the fancy tablecloth off the table and said, “You know what? This is MY year.”
Or maybe 2020 was just born “special” and we, the world, didn’t know how to handle it with the kid gloves it required. Maybe we’re normally just too rough with the passing of time, and 2020 couldn’t hack it and fell apart. Maybe that’s why we all got sick in body and spirit.
Maybe 2020 was like, “Yo, y’all. No year ever in the history of years has taken a vacation. I’m calling mine. I got 46 weeks of overtime and I’m taking it. Fend for yourselves, bitches.”
Or maybe 2020 is like a mother who sees how naughty her children are and decides the world collectively needs a time out. Humanity needs to think about its choices and she needs a break, gosh darn it. While we all sulk in our respective corners, stewing and brooding over our choices and options, 2020 tended to the Earth’s gardens – giving the world more air to breathe, more flowers to grow, more animals to roam, and some time for the ocean to just, I don’t know, whatever massive bodies of water need to do to refresh.
Maybe Mother Nature teamed up with 2020 and said, “Look, I can’t handle it anymore. We gotta get these humans in line. Give them some perspective. You be crappy while I regenerate. Maybe this will give them some perspective and newfound appreciation. It’ll suck for them, sure, but in the long run maybe we’ll restore some compassion and kindness."
And if God is the one to blame for why 2020 was the pinnacle of painful, well then, he’s up in Heaven looking down on all us bozos saying, “Duh.” This is Old Testament stuff. Nothing new here. It seems the Christians have the hardest time learning this lesson.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from 2020 it is this: Let go of expectations. Be present. Dream, yes, but don’t get so dreamy that you destroy your world while pursuing the dream.
2021, I believe, will be a much better year, if only for the sole reason that it is an entirely unremarkable number. Okay, so maybe it is made up of two consecutive numbers, 20 and 21, and this won’t happen again for another 101 years. And, yes, if you add up all the numbers the sum is 5 which is a prime number. And, yes, it does get two movie credits while 2020 only landed one for a Spanish documentary about how bad this year was. Despite all this, people will feel too traumatized to have any expectations of 2021.
And in turn, 2021 will have space to open its arms and breathe; to unfold its potential and magic. We will be too weary to ignore this and so, when those flakes of energy drift down from the celestial skies, we will be ready to open our mouths and catch them.
Peace to you all.
On This Day
Remembering You
Kim
ReplyDeleteI agree. A double zero year, adding up to four. An unlucky number in China. The number of death in Japan. Next year will be better. It adds up to five which must mean good fortune somewhere.
Wow! I hadn't realized Brubeck died the day before his birthday. Bummer. His 100th is tomorrow.
ReplyDeleteWell, you and 20x0 certainly have a thing going, and you are, oh so articulate in stating your case. To continue The Chairman's correct observation, yes, 4 is unlucky in both Japan and China, and that's because it's pronounced "shi" which means death. The samurai were also known as "bushi," a warrior ready for death. And so on . . . it's a long, superstitious story.
ReplyDeleteStill, I counter with the idea that 2020 also had golden moments for humanity. So, I'll pick up the sow's ear and make a silk gauntlet in a post before the end of the year! There are always at least two opposites in our 360 degree view. I know. I know. For me to surface from the dark side is uncharacteristic, but maybe that's one good thing about 2020? For my forthcoming post, wish me 7s, for luck.