There really is nothing magic about changing the calendar. Tradition makes a fuss over it with celebrations that emphasize their pagan origins, such as trees and presents to Woden, elves in chimneys, socks on mantles, holly boughs, special lights, special colors, etc. Yeah, I’m no fun at this time of year, because I know too much about how all our happy little traditions have their origins in paganism. (Christ was born on Tishri 1, or Rosh Hashana, and not on the Winter Solstice like so many pagan gods were.)
The drunken revelry known as New Year’s Eve is simply part of that pagan festival over the return of the Sun God. These stories can be traced all the way back to the times before Babylon when Noah’s great-grandson rejected the True God. Enough of that. This bit of archaeological knowledge simply fuels the depression I feel year after year for the battle-cry of the “reason for the season”, which has absolutely nothing to do with the Son of God and everything to do with frenzy.
So, despite my feelings for the change in calendar, I plan to re-start some resolutions on January 4th. I pick this day, because it allows me to consume the rest of the non-compliant foods in my refrigerator, such as those sweet potatoes a friend gave me or the sugar-free cranberry sauce I made. This is not a “New Year’s” resolution. This is this week’s resolution. I also have to make daily resolutions. I live too much in the present to control my eating habits for a whole year. It has to be a day by day decision. Days become weeks and so on.
I also plan to exercise. Ugh.
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