Revolutions
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to min'?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days of o' lang syne?
And days of auld lang syne, my dear,
And days of auld lang syne.
We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet,
And days of auld lang syne?
Robert Burns
The world turns yet again. When the clock strikes midnight tonight, the earth (the scientists tell us) will be in the same position in its orbit as it was in years' past, coming, as it were, to the end of its year-long journey; returning, yet again, for the beginning of a new one. Tonight, at midnight, our planet, it seems, meets itself again, as though face to face upon a mirror: I wonder what it would see? The same planet, no doubt, but with a billion more people? A couple of new wars here and there? Many heroes, no doubt, yet many villains also? And certainly, certainly quite a number of lunatics.
Indeed, there is something poetic (and even philosophical) about this circular celestial dance that our planet completes at the end of every year, where endings are at once beginnings, as cycles close and cycles begin again— the never ending rhythm of existence, since time immemorial and forever more, at the end of an old year, and the beginning of a new one.
The symbolism is not lost to us— earthlings that we are— and on this night most especially, when we are called to remember, and to look ahead. No wonder, then, that this first month of the year is named after the Roman god Janus, sometimes portrayed as a door (the Latin for door is, in fact, ianua), sometimes portrayed with two faces, one looking forward and the other looking back.
* * *
Sitting down now to perform my own ritual of remembering, I find that the year passed rather quickly, if not uneventfully. Not that there were no worthwhile events to remember, but that I was probably too tired to revel in them, or perhaps too emotionally drained to feel them; no doubt, the Bar Examinations sapped the life out of me, as it did with many of us. Indeed, 2005 will always be remembered as the year I graduated from law school, and the year I took the Philippine Bar: the two overarching leitmotifs which played at the background of many of this year's memories.
A quick reckoning [My 2005. . . . ]:
I found a flat near the law school, and for the first time in my life, lived away from home. I sat through my very last class day as an Atenean and took my very last examination, at both times somewhat feeling that everything was just so anti-climactic. I graduated and got my JD degree, gave a speech, and ended four years of that bitter-sweet insanity called law school. I reviewed for the Bar Examinations. I turned 26, thinking I was getting too old for thinking that I was getting too old. I reviewed some more, got paranoid, lost sleep, did my best. I finally took the Bar, somewhat insecure and somewhat confident, glad, however, that it, too, would come to an end. I went to Boracay for the first time, fell in love with the sand and the sky, and felt that life had actually begun. I ventured to La Union, on a whim, to surf with unlikely travelmates. I put periods to question marks, got hurt and felt stupid, looked into the abyss and realized that no one was staring back, and saw the rest of my life in a whole new light. I visited Cebu, Bohol and Davao with my family. I saw the Philippine Philharmonic again and watched Man of La Mancha, at last. I bought myself a new camera with my own money, and got back into photography. I tried to live a little, ex mundo: went out with friends and family, became a pseudo-alcoholic, regularly came home at four in the morning. I experienced death for the first time, and I came out of it somewhat numbed. I missed some people and said good-bye to some others. I wanted to grow-up, I felt that somehow I did.
Reading through the list again, I feel somewhat exhausted and spent, reliving once again the emotional (if not, artificial) roller-coaster of the past twelve months. Were it only the Bar Examinations, then perhaps things would have been somewhat more bearable, but quite predictably, life throws a couple of curve balls, just to remind me that I am still human (and that I should have a sense of humor). Coelho's quote, therefore, seems more apt tonight, more than ever: “Closing cycles. Not because of pride, incapacity or arrogance, but simply because that no longer fits your life. Shut the door, change the record, clean the house, shake off the dust. Stop being who you were, and change into who you are.”
* * *
I close the door on 2005, therefore, with not only a renewed impression of hope, but also a heightened sense of expectation, knowing that, like the pattern of the past couple of months, this year will be the beginning of many new things; indeed, the first year of the rest of my life. I guess this is why beginnings are so exciting: because they are meant to somehow allow us to start with a clean slate, or, as J.B. Priestly put it, “a fresh try, one more start, with perhaps a bit of magic waiting somewhere behind the morning.”
In the spirit, therefore, of fresh tries and second chances, I now list events that I will look forward to, with the coming of 2006. Some of them, no doubt, are inevitable facticities all of us have to face; others, suntok sa buwan. But whether terms or conditions, I look forward to them nonetheless, because tonight, we are allowed to be hopeful.
In a couple of minutes, the year will come full circle. As we move from the old to the new, returning to the beginning and venturing forth again— revolutions in the stages of our lives— I send my New Year's wishes:
And never brought to min'?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days of o' lang syne?
And days of auld lang syne, my dear,
And days of auld lang syne.
We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet,
And days of auld lang syne?
Robert Burns
The world turns yet again. When the clock strikes midnight tonight, the earth (the scientists tell us) will be in the same position in its orbit as it was in years' past, coming, as it were, to the end of its year-long journey; returning, yet again, for the beginning of a new one. Tonight, at midnight, our planet, it seems, meets itself again, as though face to face upon a mirror: I wonder what it would see? The same planet, no doubt, but with a billion more people? A couple of new wars here and there? Many heroes, no doubt, yet many villains also? And certainly, certainly quite a number of lunatics.
Indeed, there is something poetic (and even philosophical) about this circular celestial dance that our planet completes at the end of every year, where endings are at once beginnings, as cycles close and cycles begin again— the never ending rhythm of existence, since time immemorial and forever more, at the end of an old year, and the beginning of a new one.
The symbolism is not lost to us— earthlings that we are— and on this night most especially, when we are called to remember, and to look ahead. No wonder, then, that this first month of the year is named after the Roman god Janus, sometimes portrayed as a door (the Latin for door is, in fact, ianua), sometimes portrayed with two faces, one looking forward and the other looking back.
* * *
Sitting down now to perform my own ritual of remembering, I find that the year passed rather quickly, if not uneventfully. Not that there were no worthwhile events to remember, but that I was probably too tired to revel in them, or perhaps too emotionally drained to feel them; no doubt, the Bar Examinations sapped the life out of me, as it did with many of us. Indeed, 2005 will always be remembered as the year I graduated from law school, and the year I took the Philippine Bar: the two overarching leitmotifs which played at the background of many of this year's memories.
A quick reckoning [My 2005. . . . ]:
I found a flat near the law school, and for the first time in my life, lived away from home. I sat through my very last class day as an Atenean and took my very last examination, at both times somewhat feeling that everything was just so anti-climactic. I graduated and got my JD degree, gave a speech, and ended four years of that bitter-sweet insanity called law school. I reviewed for the Bar Examinations. I turned 26, thinking I was getting too old for thinking that I was getting too old. I reviewed some more, got paranoid, lost sleep, did my best. I finally took the Bar, somewhat insecure and somewhat confident, glad, however, that it, too, would come to an end. I went to Boracay for the first time, fell in love with the sand and the sky, and felt that life had actually begun. I ventured to La Union, on a whim, to surf with unlikely travelmates. I put periods to question marks, got hurt and felt stupid, looked into the abyss and realized that no one was staring back, and saw the rest of my life in a whole new light. I visited Cebu, Bohol and Davao with my family. I saw the Philippine Philharmonic again and watched Man of La Mancha, at last. I bought myself a new camera with my own money, and got back into photography. I tried to live a little, ex mundo: went out with friends and family, became a pseudo-alcoholic, regularly came home at four in the morning. I experienced death for the first time, and I came out of it somewhat numbed. I missed some people and said good-bye to some others. I wanted to grow-up, I felt that somehow I did.
Reading through the list again, I feel somewhat exhausted and spent, reliving once again the emotional (if not, artificial) roller-coaster of the past twelve months. Were it only the Bar Examinations, then perhaps things would have been somewhat more bearable, but quite predictably, life throws a couple of curve balls, just to remind me that I am still human (and that I should have a sense of humor). Coelho's quote, therefore, seems more apt tonight, more than ever: “Closing cycles. Not because of pride, incapacity or arrogance, but simply because that no longer fits your life. Shut the door, change the record, clean the house, shake off the dust. Stop being who you were, and change into who you are.”
* * *
I close the door on 2005, therefore, with not only a renewed impression of hope, but also a heightened sense of expectation, knowing that, like the pattern of the past couple of months, this year will be the beginning of many new things; indeed, the first year of the rest of my life. I guess this is why beginnings are so exciting: because they are meant to somehow allow us to start with a clean slate, or, as J.B. Priestly put it, “a fresh try, one more start, with perhaps a bit of magic waiting somewhere behind the morning.”
In the spirit, therefore, of fresh tries and second chances, I now list events that I will look forward to, with the coming of 2006. Some of them, no doubt, are inevitable facticities all of us have to face; others, suntok sa buwan. But whether terms or conditions, I look forward to them nonetheless, because tonight, we are allowed to be hopeful.
1. My first day at work at my first job.
2. My first pay check.
3. The results of the 2005 Bar.
4. A happy 27th Birthday.
5. Boracay.
6. Friends, nightouts, and laughter.
7. Ever After.
* * *
In a couple of minutes, the year will come full circle. As we move from the old to the new, returning to the beginning and venturing forth again— revolutions in the stages of our lives— I send my New Year's wishes:
to kinder gods, and fiercer loves;
to brief jealousies, and even shorter griefs;
to second chances, and honest shots;
to wine, to beer, to sunsets, and coffee;
to travel, and music, and books, and food,
and kissing, and laughter;
to friends, and family;
and to everything else
that we should be grateful for this year:
FELIX ANNUS NOVUS! A Happy New Year!
happy new year.. may 2006 bring us MORE LIFE and MORE PASSION!
Posted by
deran0n |
8:36 AM
ahh yes... the Ever After.
we all want that, don't we?
i wish you'll get yours in 2006 :) happy new year!
Posted by
V. |
9:04 AM
happy new year! we have a copy of closing cycles by coelho. it's enlightening and painful.
Posted by
Anonymous |
7:05 AM
Peej, where's that New Year's wish from? I received a text greeting that contained the abridged version. The full message is just lovely.
And if you say it's a Bernardo original I will succumb to another case of writer's envy. :p
Posted by
Ailee Through the Looking Glass |
1:12 PM
Haha, no, no, much to my regret, it's not a Peej-original! I just added some lines to make it fit my mood for the evening. The first two lines were borrowed, I think. So there. No reason to fall into writer-envy!
Posted by
Peej Bernardo |
6:27 AM