I like new starts. I like them so much I like to have one every day.
I always thought a “fresh start” was a good thing, a gift. But it would seem I am in the minority. Not in liking the idea of a fresh start, but in seeing it as purely a “good thing.” Apparently the term fresh start implies, to many people, the existence of something that was “not a good thing”, something that needs to be swept away and forgotten. I prefer to think of a fresh start as a state of grace, unsullied by the flotsam of the day.
I will not cry over spilt milk; hold a grudge; worry about that which I cannot control (though I will pray/campaign/work for or whatever I will not “worry”); I will not look backwards other than to cherish a memory or learn from a mistake.
Some people spend so much time being busy rather than just being that they miss life. In the three months of this year alone I have been showered with opportunities. One or two have been quite substantial in their potential, many have been small in magnitude but huge their effect on my life. I have lost count of the number of times I have been asked how I manage to fit so many different things in an apparently busy life. I am not some paragon of virtue, or a time manager’s dream. I just start each day knowing that it is a new day and I can choose to open my eyes and my mind or I can close them.
Try opening your eyes tomorrow. Really opening them, don’t ignore anything. The colour of the jacket of the women next to you on the bus might just be the exact colour you’ve been searching for to paint your hall. That snatch of music from the open window of White Van Man might just make you want to smile – so smile – you never know what might happen if you do!
I like a fresh start because I like an adventure and every day can be a new adventure or it can be another day on the treadmill. The choice is yours.