Los Angeles, California
The new year arrived. 2024. It doesn't seem possible that it has been four years since a leap year, a general election, and Covid lockdown. Time flies, as they say. Even if you're not having fun is sometimes added. I am grateful that I am having fun though fun is interspersed with responsibility, introspection, and grief for the loss of my friend last month.
I began the year without wi-fi and internet, which picked up and walked away on January 2nd. I was in the middle of doing some financial reports with CNN keeping me company when the television, which comes to me via wi-fi steaming, went off. Then, back on and off, on again, before landing on OFF with a vengeance. I went through the usual fixes of rebooting the modem, then resetting the modem, none of which worked. Dead. Doornail dead. I called AT+T. Long story short, after five days, waiting for a new modem (which, after installed, didn't fix the problem), a repairman and finally, a lineman, it got fixed. The first day without internet and television was weird. By the second day, I was doing more reading and convincing myself that all was ok. I had power, heat, water (and cellular service). Who needs the television and the internet? I told one of the repair people that I had planned to cut back on screen use in the new year, though not so dramatically. As the days passed, I took down my Christmas decorations, did both reading and writing, and a little meditation. I worked out. Life can go on, even if we can't google (though I actually could google until I ran through my data allotment, twice).
I had gone out to lunch with three girlfriends the week before Christmas. This was a 2nd annual holiday get-together. I enjoy the company of these women both in a group and individually. But this particular day the conversation quickly turned to what series they were watching on television. I watch a series here and there. And I sometimes repeat-watch a favorite series (looking at you, Durrell family). But with the sheer preponderance of available series, I'm much less in the swim of it. As the conversation went on, I, once again, found myself thinking about what it means that so many hours can be spent in front of screens! And how, when I lost the ability to utilize any screens besides my little iPhone 12 Mini and small iPad, it was an interesting experience being unplugged.
I read a lot of New York Times and The Atlantic articles. Frequently popping up were references to tempering alcohol intake by observing Dry January. And then on NPR, I heard someone refer to Damp January. Dry, damp -- it's all about temperance. And, temperance came to California to roost quite awhile ago. I can't remember the last time I had a conversation with anyone besides Joel which didn't include information about what they were giving up: Alcohol, carbs, meat, sugar, dairy -- all diet-related, and not in any way about what is happening with our minds and souls. But it's the mind and soul part that I think about as I happily enjoy scotch, pasta, filet mignon and ice cream (all in moderation. Ok, maybe not the scotch). During the luncheon with my friends I utilized a break in the television series discourse to ask if anyone was planning any resets for the new year. Beth asked if a reset was like a resolution. No, I explained. Resolutions are like, make or break, line in the sand. A reset is more like a mindful awareness. There was a long silence before one of them said: Well, that's heavy. No, heavy is what you get if you spend your life sitting on your posterior watching hours of television. And I don't mean that in the body-weight sense, but rather in the sense that you're going to spend a lot of time just sitting there. Like a rock.
My reset was in a word: Kindness. I am not always kind. But I do try to be. Tom often remarked to me: You are difficult. But you are worth it. I used to lament the difficult part. I knew my faults and my flaws. But I have come to an acceptance of myself. I expect a lot from people around me. But, I give a great deal in return. It is how life should be. There is nothing more dispiriting than a stinginess of spirit, or a lack of generosity. It stings to see that in those around me. So I do stay conscious of spreading generosity where I can. But this year I am focusing on kindness. I want to be more mindful of this going forward. There is so much anger in today's world that when one experiences another's kindness, it creates an opening like a flower. My Christmas cards this year referenced the Jackie DeShannon song: What the World Needs Now with the inside-the-card sentiment reading: It's the only thing that there's just too little of. The Beatles advised us that all we need is love. But today, in this election year, with so much anger on the road, in the marketplace, and on the airwaves, I think kindness is the missing quotient. Apparently, loving your neighbor is just too far a bridge these days.
So, dry or damp? Uh, no, neither. Joel presented me with a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue Label for Christmas. The last one lasted for about eight years. So, in the same way that I never dream of a white Christmas (way too cold), I will not be embracing a dry/damp January. I will reserve the JW Blue and my go-to will be The Macallan. Oh, and tequila. But, in keeping with the commitment to my new year's reset, my plan is to drink it... kindly.
