Doing that word for a year thing seems so stale for me now. So old me.
But to see the new year in without a promise or hope hurts. It’s like putting a big, fat red cross on 2017 before the poor thing even properly starts.
What to do? It’s a dilemma….
Then, today, I put on my new white t-shirt. Ethically made. Simple. Clean. Clear cut lines. No adornment.
And I remember that I love white shirts. Especially white t-shirts.
Yeah, they show every dirt or stain. But -zap!- a soak in napisan and out they come, pristine. Almost.
They give a sense of a fresh start. Of Youth and of Summer. New promises, as yet unbroken. Even the many times washed white t-shirt. That looks good but not perfect. Like life, really. Promise of more with hints of that which has gone before.
I’m going to buy another new white t-shirt today. It’s like a promise to myself. Of newness and goodness and hope. To try, and to try again.
White t-shirts are a gift to the world.
In the end I find that it’s not that I need a word for the year. Or even a resolution.
What I need is a new white t-shirt (or two or three..). A symbol of hope and promise.
It’s my new New Year thing.