Well folks, as the holidays are upon us and the new year is barreling in, it seems that 2020 has a few last tricks up its sleeve. We’re in the middle of a snowstorm that upended the handful of brief distanced visits we’d scrounged together. The cards and gifts we mailed are caught in postal purgatory, and there’s nothing left to do but wait.
2020 was the year of the Trickster. Of challenge and misfortune. Of feeling like a pawn in a giant chess match, made to move or stay put at someone else’s whim.
But in folklore, the Trickster is also the Teacher, the Spirit of Knowledge, the teller of stories. And oh, what stories we’ll tell. A few back in my day‘s, a reminiscent remember when, and we’ll all nod knowingly together.
It’s all we’re ever left with, once time has passed and life moves on.
2020 may be heading toward its last curve, and good riddance I say. We’ll turn a new leaf with a flip of the page, or even throw the whole calendar away and start anew. A new month, a new year, a new number. All for a random day in winter that we’ve decided marks the end of one cycle and the beginning of the next.
I hope your holidays are wonderful. And if they aren’t, I hope you wipe the slate clean with a cathartic flourish. It’s time to begin again.