We are such an optimist specie. How else can you explain why after every three hundred and six-five days, give or take, we lose our minds, spend a ridiculous amount of money on new outfits and booze because the calendar will add a year to over five centuries that we’ve been keeping track of the date.
Growing up, as poor as we were, every kid in the neighbourhood had new clothes for Christmas and New Years days. The desire was so strong for the first of January to not be like the other days that they used to tell us that the sun danced as it rose. I woke up early enough to catch the New Years sunrise once or twice when I was young to see this dancing sun. Even at that age I knew it was wishful thinking. The New Years day sun is the same as it has been for millions of years before we even graced the surface of this blue planet.
I hear you saying it, Mpho why so glum during festive. People are signing ‘monate mpolaye’ (I want to die from fun), and I’m pooping all over it. Well, one I’m working, and two I’m over a thousand kilometres from my loved ones, so bite me. But I was about to sit and reassess my goals for next year and wondered what will be different in 2019. I can’t say nothing, my life is almost unrecognisable from what it was two years ago, and I have a feeling that three hundred and sixty-five days from now I’ll say the same.
In short, everyday is an opportunity to see a dancing sun as its light rushes to you from one hundred and fifty million kilometres away to reach you in under eight and a half minutes. Every single day. Now that’s cool. I look up often, especially when moon is out during the day. Watching another earthly body immersed in a sea of pale blue, then I remember I’m in this great life vessel charging through cold empty space as it revolves a giant ball of fire, but it is the safest place in the whole universe. So I’ll be just fine. In fact I’ll be great!
Happy 2019 earthlings! Keep calm, and carry on!