As we edge ever closer to the end of 2016, I decided to take some time to sit down and reflect on the past 12 months. I wasn’t going to, originally. I thought, “what on earth can I contribute that won’t have been said a million times over already? What have I got to add that won’t be an horrific cliché?” But then, I decided to shrug away the negative side of my brain.
2016. “What a horrendous year!” they say, “So many deaths! So much political discourse! Good riddance – roll on 2017!” I used to love New Year, until I realised that time is just an illusion, and bears no real meaning in the grand scheme of things. Maybe this is why as a human race, we’re obsessed with ascribing meaning to it, to make it matter. As much I resist, I still can’t help but feel a lightness at the end of the year, the feeling that it all starts over once again. Tomorrow is just another day, the clocks may be changing, but nothing will really change. But there’s something refreshing about ‘starting over’, even if it’s not really starting over, just continuing on.