RITUALS
A new year is the perfect time to pause, reflect, and embrace the shared ritual of letting hopes for the future take flight, writes Kate Townshend
There is one time of year, every year, guaranteed to find me with tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. Not because of any great grief or disaster for the most part – but because it’s a moment where I inevitably find myself contemplating the course of my life, and most importantly, the people who are travelling along with me.
When I hear those oh-so characteristic bongs from Big Ben each 31 December, as one year trips over into the next, I feel time slipping through my fingers in a way that is far more visceral and tangible than in the normal course of my life. I am reminded that my time here is limited; I am reminded of the importance, however clichéd, of making the most of it.
That said, I know that if you’re ‘cool’ these days then you’re supposed to think New Year’s Eve is tacky, overdone, and expensive. You’re supposed to ignore it completely, if at all possible, declaring that you hardly need some arbitrary calendar date to give you permission for a fresh start. Thus, in bars up and down the country, people gather on New Year’s Eve to moan about the overblown drinks prices and the even more overblown expectations. The hardcore objectors even get to boast about having gone to bed before midnight, because ‘who can be bothered, really?’ But hiked prices and terrible TV aside, I still love New Year’s Eve. I think those people ignoring it completely might well be missing out. And not just because the cold and dark of winter absolutely needs some of these bright moments to get us through.
In fact, the string of New Year’s Eves across my life seem directly connected to one another – regardless of whether I’ve spent them in restaurants or at parties or cuddled up under a blanket on the sofa at home. It’s as if New Year’s Eve is its own realm; like a magical circle has been drawn around this brief respite to reflect and contemplate and be thankful.
I suppose what I’m trying to say is that the location matters less than the symbolism. There’s power in the sense that we’re banishing the mistakes and problems of the past. I have waved off poor decisions, bad boyfriends and terrible jobs on 31 December. I have toasted the end of difficult periods alongside friends feeling similarly glad to see the back of any given year. And this symbolic drawing of lines really does seem to help when it comes to moving on from things that might otherwise continue to hold us back.
