The door is not nearly as grand as one might think. The knob of solid brass, though tarnished from use, glows enough in the dark of the unknown to show me where to lay my hand. The threshold is clear, clean and unobstructed. The frame sturdy and the width large enough for me to pass with anything I wish to carry into this new year. Though not a word is spoken as I stand here, I also know it offers me the chance to walk through naked and with nothing at all.
I pull in on the great billows of my lungs the promise of this fresh moment. I let the taste of adventure and mystery to linger deliciously upon my tongue, savoring the prospects of all that I have yet to become. Each new day, of course promises this, too, but there is something unique about New Year’s Eve that speaks to the magic of transformation and opportunity. That calls out into the twinkling darkness of the heaven’s one’s excitement at what’s to come.
To the wise and quieted mind this wondrous anticipation has all the charm of a child on Christmas morning. It holds the wild hopes only a seaman stepping onto his ship bound for uncharted seas can know. This moment in the dark hours leaving one year to enter another is a sacred passage to those with an open heart. A heart that whispers as it passes through the doorway, “I am ready”.