Fresh Start

Somehow, I consistently allow New Year's plans to be forgotten in the rush to address Christmas responsibilities. I didn't even consider making a New Year plan until I was leaving for my mother's and realized it would be nearly New Year's Eve when I returned.

Friends invited me to Shanghai Mermaid's party at Galapagos in Dumbo, but the tickets had to be bought on-line and I had just cancelled the credit card I designate for on-line purchases. I decided to wait until I returned home from the holidays. By that time I would have the new credit card and access to a computer.

But it was too late. The tickets were gone by the time I got back. I suspect that Shanghai Mermaid is about creating cache through scarcity, and that pretentious PR crap annoys me.

I made a tentative plan to get one of the "limited" tickets available at the door and accepted a dinner invitation from friends who already got their tickets. At my request, a couple of friends who initially were supposed to attend the party with me were also invited.

It was an exceptionally cold day. It snowed and rained. The sidewalks were icy. I was not in a festive mood.

My bathroom ceiling fell in the night before. I skipped a shower due to worries that it would encourage more plaster to rain down.

My wardrobe contained little that matched the occasion and weather conditions. I made a meager attempt to don beads and sequins, but finally decided on a New York uniform of black top and boots with skinny jeans.

The liquor store was jammed with people, which led to my late arrival to dinner. I felt terrible about it because the two friends I invited were not acquainted with the hosts.

Fortunately, I was the first guest to arrive. The hosts were gracious as usual. A painter/textile designer, painter/unemployed production manager, painter/editor, photographer, and actor/software engineer fell into easy conversation. We had a wonderful meal in a beautiful and warm apartment.

The photographer and painter/textile designer suggested we follow a ritual. We wrote things to leave behind in 2008 on slips of paper. Then we wrote things to embrace on 2009. We read what we wrote aloud, then burned the 2008 papers in the fireplace. It was a little humiliating to read the papers aloud, but gratifying to note that we had met some of our goals (i.e. reaching out to new people) in the gathering.

After several attempts and a consultation with the internet, I made an origami boat. It was labeled 2009. All of us placed our 2009 papers in the boat and dribbled champagne on it.

After bundling up, we walked to the Ferry Landing and released the boat into the cold waters. The wind swept a couple of the papers back up to the pier. We chased them down and threw them back into the water. I am convinced it was my paper that flew up three times before hitting the water.

Our hosts headed to the party. I was not able to get a ticket at the door, so I accompanied the photographer to Jivamukti. The painter/textile designer went off to meet other friends.

Jivamukti was hosting a silent meditation party. I have done yoga one on one with friends who were going through teacher training, but have only attended two yoga classes. It was my first time at this venue.

We took off our shoes and entered a softly lit room. Many people were sitting or lying on the floor. It was warm.

I put my large scarf on the floor and stretched out on my back. It was only about 10:30pm, but I felt tired and almost fell asleep. All of the things I worried about earlier in the evening - wardrobe, wine, lateness - seemed stupid.

At 11:50 a person came in with a sign encouraging us to go to the big room. I got up and followed the others out of the room. I noticed a man in a business suit on one mat. He looked like a Wall Street employee.

The big room was crowded. I found a spot and sat down in the back. There were two candlelit alters at the front of the room. At midnight, people began chanting om.

It seemed simultaneously odd and familiar to chant om. I spent January 2008 in India to celebrate a milestone birthday and to meet a personal goal. In fact, I arrived in Delhi on New Year's Eve. It was a wonderful trip, and I am very eager to go back. This was a nice way of completing the arc of the year by returning to India via New York.

We continued chanting until two people at the alter began talking. They gave a couple of short inspirational speeches.

As I chanted, listened, and yawned (from sleepiness not boredom), I pondered the difference between this method of embracing the new year and the more typical drinking and noise making. It surprised me that the boisterous celebration outside could not be heard within the room.

In the Hindu temples I visited in India, ringing bells or gongs dispel negativity. 2008 was a very negative year for me and many other people, and I wished I could ring a bell in addition to chanting.

But it is a goal to try new ways of doing things. Perhaps chanting om is a better way of establishing an auspicious year. It is about embracing the good rather than rejecting the negative. Perhaps this sets a better tone.

I intended to take a subway home. It was freezing outside and many drunk people were stumbling around. But by the time I reached the subway that would deposit me near home, I decided it was silly to just not walk the rest of the way.

As I bounded the three flights of stairs to my apartment, it struck me that I felt festive. This was a pleasant surprise to myself.