New Year’s Reflections at the Benediction of an Unrepentant 2017

Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer’d – William Shakespeare, Cymbeline

Hmmm, is the legacy of adversity the ability to find purpose both in blessings and affliction?

I am not a winter-friendly person. You will not find me zigzagging down snow-laden slopes or cross-country skiing along frozen trails. I hibernate like a bear. The walk from the car to the door is as much of winter as I care to experience.

But as I gaze out the window at my townhouse courtyard, keeping a glass barrier between me and the frigid temperatures, a contemplative mood takes hold. The grace of Old Man Winter presents itself to me in monochromatic hues.

Antiqued white of the crusted snow with silver-grey edgings where the wind has sculpted it or a shovel has piled in into miniature mountain ridges.

The wheat-brown trunks and barren limbs of the trees which stand stoically against the cold in a peaceful slumber that surrenders graciously to the elements.

A beckoning sky of powder blue, belying the bone-chilling temperatures below, does not seem that different from a summer sky if I suspend my disbelief.

Perhaps, just perhaps, this palette of muted colours is telling me that the year ahead will hold subtle blessings that I need to recalibrate my senses to perceive and make my own.

A whimsical snow flurry passes through as if on the wings of winter angels. Flirtatious snowflakes perform a choreographed dance – sideways cascades, counter clockwise spins and gravity-defying, upward slides.

Perhaps, just perhaps, this capricious dance is telling me that the nascent year will unfold more impulsively than I would prefer. But it will also have an underlying harmony if I can slow my mind enough to seek it out.

The snow flurry ends as unpredictably as it began. The sun emerges once more lending contrast to the landscape. Shafts of crisp sunlight seek out and paradoxically soften the sharp lines of gray brick walls, wrought iron fences and snow-dusted, peaked roofs.

Perhaps, just perhaps, this winter sun is telling me that the year about to be born will seem harsh and unforgiving at times. But so too will it have moments of clarity that show me the way ahead if I am wise enough to assemble the puzzle pieces.

2017 was mean-spirited and unrepentant in its treatment of me. Misfortune seemed to lurk around every corner and bite at my heels even as I picked myself up and carried on. I was at the mercy of the unsteer’d boat which seemed to hold me captive in a winter land of adversity.

But perhaps, just perhaps, I needed the affliction to see the wisdom in Shakespeare’s metaphor of fortune. At the benediction of the year, hard-won insight empowers me to see splendour in the grip of winter, both real and figurative, which will serve me well in the New Year that awaits.

~  Now Available Online from Amazon, Chapters Indigo or Barnes & Noble: Hunting Muskie, Rites of Passage – Stories by Michael Robert Dyet

~ Michael Robert Dyet is the author of Until the Deep Water Stills – An Internet-enhanced Novel which was a double winner in the Reader Views Literary Awards 2009. Visit Michael’s website at www.mdyetmetaphor.com or the novel online companion at www.mdyetmetaphor.com/blog.

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