Last night my husband and I knew the New Year had arrived when we heard the first firecracker.  We understood that the excitement grew as more noisemakers were used.  Then Hubby started differentiating between the noise of  shotguns versus the noise of handguns.  Once the giant “BOOM” of either dynamite or a semi-automatic was heard, we began to wonder if perhaps the End Times had arrived.

See, we’re up at my folks’ house, and in the Valley of Roses, people ring in the New Year by shooting off large amounts of firearms.  Which is a brand new experience for me.  Usually the largest noise I hear is the pop of a champagne bottle on TV or the closing of a door as folks say, “Okay.  We made it.  Happy New Year.  And good night.”  It seems ironic to ring in the start of something new with something that could keep you from experiencing it due to the fact that you might be DEAD.  But maybe it’s just me.

How does my family plan on celebrating the arrival of 2009 years of the world spinning post-Christ’s estimated entrance onto this orb?  By eating.  I’m sure that’s what Christ was doing, and Mary, too.  I can still remember the taste of that first bit of food post-JJ’s birth (a turkey sandwich – the best the hospital could come up with since he was born on a Sunday evening, and hospital kitchens are run like Mama’s kitchens:  Sunday night’s – you’re on your own.  But it was SO good).  And JJ nursed for 45 minutes straight.  So, a day full of grazing seems to be in order.

We’re also going to play.  Play with the kids’ toys  (Team GeoTrax, All Aboard!), play with the adult toys (goo balls, anyone?), play board games, play “sitting on the couch watching others throw a ball back and forth which constitutes as being productive, right?”.

One of my friends from high school used to have a theme word for her year.  It was a idea, concept, means of living that she either felt called towards or convicted of or was interested in exploring.  I’ve pondered doing that, but often find the word hanging out in that junk drawer/closet/room/garage with my New Year’s Resolutions and jeans I could wear pre-birthing days (sigh).   But this year I thought if I publically announced it that I might be more prone to actually following through with it, either because it takes multiple experiences to remember/learn (like learning a concept through hearing and writing vs. just writing) or because I’m tricking myself into having to follow through by public exposure (like verbal streaking:  flash!).

Many words have crossed my mind:  “mystery”, “intentional”, “gracious”, “sane”, “goo balls” . . . But the one that stuck this morning is “present”.  I wish to be present in my life, in my day-to-day moments.  Much of my time I spend reflecting back, either regretting or thinking how great things were, or thinking forward, trying to anticipate any and every possible outcome and how to respond.  But in all of those situations I’m not present in this very moment.

Jason and I have been watching the series Life on Hulu.  It’s fairly enjoyable:  quirky characters, not gory, keeps my interest for the 48+ minutes (which is hard to do these days:  I didn’t make it through Iron Man last night, but that also could have to do with my impressionable mind not being able to get past the Afghanistan scenes and how they were a little too real . . . ).  The main character is a cop who was wrongfully accused of a multiple-murder and spent 12 years in jail before the case was reopened and he was found innocent, so now he’s been paid a bajillion dollars in a settlement and has been moved up to being a detective.  While he was in jail, he read about Zen which is what got him through.  One episode he kept talking about being present in this very moment:

Charlie Crews: Every moment you spend wishing you were someplace else is a moment you can’t get back.

Dani Reese: What about every moment I spend wishing you were someplace else.

Charlie Crews: If would hurt my feelings if I thought you meant it.

This year I think I will try to be Present.  I’m sure I’ll be Past and Future as well, but maybe, just maybe, I can learn the trick to Just Be.  Like right now:  I’m going to be Present opening my annual cheeseball:  and it will be good.

Daily Drivel, Present