I recently discovered that I have some unresolved issues with the Mayans. Don’t get me wrong. I have a lot of respect for their ingenuity and advanced systems of technology, but they sure messed up this whole calendar thing.
I think my vexation began when the world didn’t end last year. I made jokes about my ill feelings (typically a sign of deeper rooted issues, yes?), grabbed a second glass of wine, and begrudgingly moseyed my way into 2013.
A few months into the year, now, I am realizing my need to vent. Unfortunately for you, I am in bed at home alone (meaning, these pent up feelings are about to explode all over my keyboard).
So, that whole end of the world hype ended up being a disappointment, am I right?? Along with my poor grandma’s shattered hope, I have friends who aren’t willing to give theirs up. For example, I have one friend who still carries a shovel in the trunk of his car, just in case the world ends with the zombie apocalypse while he’s driving. (It’s not hard to figure out why he’s one of my favorite people.)
And as if mis-predicting the end of the world wasn’t bad enough, the Mayans set up this silly calendar that makes no sense. Clearly they were not considering weather patterns of their Northern neighbors in their choice to begin the calendar when they did. Right in the dead of winter, when humans and trees alike start praying to God for even an ounce of sunshine to restore hope to dismal days, those of us without a choice in the matter have to flip our calendars over and start a new year. A new beginning. A fresh start. Really?
And to make matters worse, some fool (probably of Mayan heritage, if I were to guess) saw these crisp untainted pages of the new calendar year and decided to start some foolish tradition of writing enthusiastic lists of unrealistic expectations for the upcoming year on them. So us subservient (read: sucker) Americans decide to adopt this tradition, and begin New Year’s resolutions–rubrics by which to determine if our year has been a success or not. The problem is, this rubric begins when our calendar does. In the dead of winter.
Let’s be honest. These enthusiastic lists of unrealistic expectations never stood a chance.
Let’s say for a moment, though, that April 1st was when we gathered our thoughts, hopes and dreams for the upcoming year, and got them down on paper. What if the budding trees, chirping birds, and smell of rain fueled these lists, rather than the 16 inches of snow that is still waiting to be shoveled from the driveway? How much more of a chance would our New Year’s resolutions have if we decided in Spring what we want our year ahead to look like? What if we dedicated April 1st to the ambitious, rather than the pranksters? I venture to say, that we would have a much more productive culture, and calendars that featured checkmarks, rather than scribbled out words with modifications in the margins.
Tomorrow. First day of the week (Monday). First day of the month (April). First day of the year (according to Celeste). Your mind is about to be blown by my checkmarks, friends.
Item #1: Grow up and own my lack of motivation, rather than blaming it on one of the greatest cultures in history.
Item #2: Write more. Love more. Sing more.
Welcome back to the Midwest, sunshine.