I’m not going to lie. I’ve cruised through the end of this year in a bit of a slump. I’m ending this year with a little bit of melancholy, and not feeling a ton of hope for the new year.

There are quite a few things I could talk about. A lot of it is political, and I don’t really want to waste my time or yours going into it. There are reasons to be hopeful in that area, too, but things are hard for a lot of people, and I don’t think my views, whether pessimistic or saccharine, will really help.

Has this been a good year?

I didn’t get as much writing done as I wanted to. I made some break throughs on the next Mel Walker novel, and while I think I will finish it and it will be a good story, I’m not blazing through the word count. It’s hard to focus on that kind of escapism when things beyond my power are so far out of control. It’s like focusing on finishing a Sudoku puzzle while the airplane is nosediving towards a mountain.

I attended more events this year than any previous year. I participated on panels at The Nebulas and Worldcon for the first time in my life. I spoke to more writers, interviewed more people for the Small Publishing in a Big Universe podcast, and put myself out there more than any previous time in my life. In that way, it’s been a good year.

On the other hand, my blood pressure has been out of control, I broke a tooth, and I can’t seem to lose weight like I used to. Another year older, fatter, more out-of-shape, and my mental health has been at an all-time low, which is saying something.

And again, there are a ton of things I could talk about with regards to politics, but that’s not where I want to focus my thoughts right now.

Of all the things I could talk about, I’m choosing this. In a Discord server, in a memes channel, someone posted this:

Someone responded to it: “All meaning is subjective.”

I want to respond to that.

January 1st, with regards to our position around The Sun, isn’t special. A few days before, The Winter Solstice was more significant. That might have been a good place to mark the beginning of the rotation. But we’re going with this date, and in that regard, it’s subjective and arbitrary.

The celebration itself, though, is a reflection of life, and I think it’s important.

We’re born, we learn to stand on our own, some of us procreate, grow old, and then die. Our bodies return to the Earth, our presence on this plane resolves to memories and our creations, and hopefully our essence goes on to something in the afterlife.

The life cycle is reflected over and over. We start a project, maybe it’s crafting a new book. It gets off the ground, the project going through its own Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. The project ends, sometimes in celebration, sometimes in tears, and then we start again.

Endless circles, big and small. Moments beginning and ending. Friendships, beginning and ending, sometimes spanning decades, and sometimes lasting just in those brief moments between panels at a convention.

Plants and pets. Movies and marathons. Jobs and games. Beginning, middle, and end. We fill our lives and enrich ourselves through this cycle of cycles. It is not the meaning of life, but it is a meaning of life.

So, whether January 1st is arbitrary or not, it signifies another circle. The calendar number goes up. Some of us watch a ball drop in New York City. Some of us stay up late, go to parties, find our significant others and give them a smooch right when the clock hits 12. Some of us to go to bed early.

All of us will wake up tomorrow and start the next cycle. A new beginning, with all of the sparkly potential you can pack into a fresh start. Out with the old, in with the new, and it really is an opportunity — maybe only an excuse — to make something better of ourselves.

It can be enough.

I’ll talk about resolutions tomorrow. New Year’s is a good day to look forward. New Year’s Eve, I’m looking back briefly, wiping a tear from my eye, and closing this chapter on this note. This year is done.

May the next be so much greater.