When we were kids, we would spend every New Year’s Eve at our grandparents. All of the parents would drop the cousins off and we would party like 6 through 10 year olds…it would get crazy! We would eat cookies and popcorn. We would build forts from furniture. We would jump up and down for no apparent reason. We would listen to grandpa’s police scanner. Then, when it was getting late, around 8:30, we would gather in the living room for a talent show. My cousin, Gayla, did a marionette show. She had a very cool stage and she always did a great job. My cousin, Kayse, did some ballet. There were impressive professional wrestling exhibitions and home movies. I think there was a trained ferret once. There was an occasional ukulele or harmonica solo. I always did a…umm…magic show.
For a few years I got a magic kit for Christmas, the kind with…wait for it…24 real magic tricks!! This gave me a week to master the skills of illusion. This usually didn’t work out.
The problem was, it seems, that to master sleight of hand, you really need actual motor skills and discretion. I still can not shuffle a deck of cards, that makes card tricks a little…well…tricky! But, my obvious lack of skills didn’t stop me. I was hopeful. I had big dreams, I was going to be the next Houdini. I called myself the amazing Languini, because I thought it sounded mysterious and cool. I didn’t realize that I was calling myself a noodle. Nothing says mystifying like pasta.
Each New Year’s Eve I put on quite possibly the worst magic show ever. I remember trying to do the trick with the little red plastic vase and rope and never being able to do it right. The only thing I managed to pull out of my hat was lint. I poked myself in the eye once with my real store bought magic wand. Luckily for my self esteem I had some very supportive cousins. With each mediocre trick they gave me a new chance. “That last one was pretty rough, but let’s see what you got now…”
There is something so completely hopeful about a new year.
It’s freshly fallen possibility, untouched, unsmudged, pure potential.
You can pick it up and take it wherever you choose.
Technically, January 1st is just another day, right?
But there is something magical about it.
There is a strange magic in NEW.
The chance to start over…to begin again…a fresh start…a clean slate.
Last year was tough, but hey…you get a fresh start.
“That last one was pretty rough, but let’s see what you got now…”
It’s really good news…it’s the power of potential. Hit the restart button. It’s not too late.
It’s like every 365 days we get a Do-over. It’s a built in time for reflection and renewal.
There is power in pause.
Stop…What did I get right? What did I screw up? What is beyond my control? How can I start all over?
It’s strange magic…How can I make the ugly disappear and pull some new dreams out of my hat?
I love that new year smell…
Each new year smells like the spirit of do-over.
It’s downright magical
carbonated joy 