Auld lang syne

I wonder about New Year's Eve sometimes. This whole December 31 to January 1 transition seems to have significance only because we say it does. It's not an astronomical or seasonal marker; it doesn't even have a very long history as a end-start time socially: March 1 was the original date of choice under the Roman calendar, and although it was dropped in 153 BC, it hung on in some jurisdictions until the 18th century. The Jewish new year occurs between September 5 and October 5, by Gregorian reckoning; the Chinese year changes sometime between January 21 and February 21. The Islamic calendar is lunar, so they have a movable new year every eleven months. The Tibetans, the Tamil and the Thai all use other dates than December 31 to mark the new year, as do the Bengali and Punjabi.

The January to December run marks the IRS year, but not most fiscal budget years. (How does that happen, anyway?) The academic year has its own measures, and terms of office in government rarely match the calendar year.

In any case, the new year is upon us, and the arbitrary nature of the date does not negate its significance as a social occasion or its usefulness as a milestone.

So I take this moment to reflect and to give thanks for the world I was lucky enough to be born into and for the people I have been fortunate enough to meet along the way. I generally have the same two resolutions every year; this year I add one more:

I will try to talk less and listen more.
I will try to ask more questions and make fewer statements.
I will look at the situations in which I find myself and ask how a little kindness might help.

Happy New Year, everyone!