write
January 1, 2015 § 4 Comments
This day will not come again. The stillness of an uncomplicated and quiet togetherness born of sleepy souls shifting contentedly between insignificant tasks is today’s alone. It is the day we gift ourselves extra care and permission to rest, the tint of last night’s celebrations casting the day in a soft filter of nostalgia for the year past. Resolutions press against the binding of a new calendar, but I am rapt with gratitude for that which I would not change as I dwell peacefully between yesterday and tomorrow.
Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year.
– Ralph Waldo Emerson
scribblechic 
Um, I like that!
Thanks, Baz!
It does seem that New Year’s Day doesn’t really belong to the past year or the new one, but sits in a kind of time of its own.
Perhaps it is the thread that connects the years with greater consciousness for what has come and is yet to be.