Past

I am late posting this morning.  Normally I am up at the crack of dawn.  Though it tends not to crack around here.  It is more like dawn dawns.  Maybe New Year’s had something to do with it.  The thing is, I need to be up till midnight and miss some beauty sleep which I desperately need.
We had people over and played board games and table tennis.  At 11:55 we gathered in the yard.  We shook hands and hugged as appropriate and wished folk a happy new year and everyone left, and we went to bed.  This morning Merril tells me she feels like she had a heavy night.  Ok a heavy night these days is staying awake late.
I do like the potential that a date like the 1st of January offers.  Not that it means a lot to me at the moment.  Sorry about this, but I am the old me.  But in a sense, I am the new me.  Everyday for me is potentially a change of course day.  It is not confined to one date.
As I say we had people over.  Merril and I did heaps.  One of my tasks was to dust.  The dust was not invited in.  We never said to it, “Come on over. Our place is your place.”  It came uninvited.  Made itself at home.  I had to deal with it.  Bit like life to me.  Uninvited stuff accumulates.  I need to deal with it.  If I don’t, my building ends up like an archaeological find with trees and vines growing through it.
I am one who does not like to live in the past.  Good and bad things happened in 2019.  Tragedy and triumph.   I wish the tragedies didn’t happen.  I would change some things if I could.  But I cannot.  Changing the past is not one of my secret powers.  Besides, if I told you it was, it would not be secret anymore.
I am a great believer that there are things from my distant past and new stuff that have been good lessons along the way.  When the occasion arises, I am happy to share.  The bad things are like a warning sign. Everything potentially works for my good, if I look for the lesson.  Things may not be my choice, but nothing is wasted.
Last night a guy was telling me about a brown snake at his feet.  He had a shovel in his hand.  He told someone “when it has passed over my toes, I will get it.”  It did and he did.  I do not know I could have been that brave.
A Fijian Indian friend of ours was saying how in their culture there are events that last three days.  When someone dies, they have the person in the house for three days.  When someone marries the celebration lasts three days.  He was saying a close relative of theirs died, and they had him the house, and their daughter was marrying.  So, in one room there was mourning, and in another there was celebration.
The first was a lesson in staying calm.  Sudden movement would have caused the snake to strike.  I really do not know what I got out of the Indian story.  That would be such a dilemma.  I don’t know that I could interchange my happy and sad face readily.  I reckon it would be wrong to enter a wedding celebration with an incredibly sad face.
Both good things and bad things happen.  Everyday I can dust myself off and move on.