Life moves pretty fast

It is something of a cliché in cinema, books and tv shows for there to be an epilogue entitled “one year later”. It’s not that there is anything wrong with a tried and tested trope of this kind. Far from it, it can provide a satisfying sense of completion and resolution. Or maybe drop an Easter Egg that hints towards some next adventure around the corner.

It can also give a moment of reflection on how the various components of the story have come together. A chance to take stock of the comings and goings of the various protagonists that have held our attention for the duration of the story.

With this in mind, as I have reached a year since the end of my sabbatical that inspired my blogging journey, and as I write it is New Year’s Eve 2024, I thought I’d embrace this cliché and others, (taking the bull by the horns as it were!), and write my “one year later”.

The first thought that springs to mind is possibly the most definitive cliché that has ever existed; “time flies”. Now I am going to validate that by challenging any readers of this humble blog of mine that have been with me since the beginning, (Hi Mum!), to admit to themselves that, on reading that it has been a year since my sabbatical ended, they thought something like, “time flies”. Go on … admit it!

It’s partly an age thing that this becomes your immediate response, I think. I remember hearing once that children tend to quote their ages as things like 6 ¾ because in the context of that age for example, a year is nearly 14% of their lives. It is an enormously long period of time.

When I started this blog, I was a mere whippersnapper of 42. Now I am a mature 44-year-old – stop giggling at “mature” those who know me – a year is only a little over 2% of my life span. Thus, a year’s impact seems smaller in context and yet that one orbit of our star shall always represent a milestone and hence it feels compressed and to have passed so quickly.

When it comes to compression, I certainly have crammed a lot into this calendar year. If the year were a carry-on suitcase, I’d be arguing with a zipper that feels like it is teetering on the edge of giving way in a spectacular Bellagio Fountain of my undergarments!

An example of this busyness might be the 82 football matches I have attended this calendar year. (Yes, I have a spreadsheet, because of course I do – see transponstering!). I’ve been to concerts, shows and exhibitions. I have continued my travel – a highlight being a very enjoyable visit to Milan. Work has been busy but ultimately enjoyable and I attained a new certification after completing some study.

For those who want to know, I did complete my Star Trek challenge! I am fully up to date. I’m already missing the crew of the U.S.S. Ceritos in Star Trek: Lower Decks having just finished the fifth and final season. That was genius. I hope for anyone who was having sleepless nights over this can now rest sweetly and quietly in a bunk of their choice and dream of Bat’leths, androids and all things Vulcan!

Best of all, I have had some lovely times with family and friends. I’ve even made a genuine new friend this year, which isn’t something that you say very often outside of a work environment as an adult. We chat about Enfield Town Football Club, cats and comedy amongst other things. She also got me completely hooked on Taskmaster. (That’s taken up some time this year!) My gratitude for this new friendship cannot be put into words but its freshness has been invigorating.

In the end though, I must consider where I find my wellbeing and health since this was the main focus of my break in the first place. Broadly speaking I am pleased to say that I am doing as well as I have done for a very long time. I need to work on my fitness, that part of my health has not been as well supported as it should have been. However, despite my anxiety still being a component of my day-to-day life, I feel I recognise it now far better than I ever did. I know when the vines are twisting me – when the emotional bucket is empty and when it is full. When I am being triggered and when grief is paying a visit.

To that last point, grief is a very strange beast. I still miss my lovely Jen every day, and my dear Dad who would have been 80 just a few days ago, however there are days when all is fine, and I move through the world much as I always have. And then there the days where grief comes in uninvited and settles next to you in a chair. On those days, it can’t be ignored or rejected. It has to be lived with, recognised and accepted, ultimately turning compassion to myself to act as a soothing balm.

Those days are tough, and I might struggle, but I have years of wonderful memories to call on to make me smile and focus, and eventually the smiles and comfort dissipates the grief into the ether. In essence, I have learned that I can’t stop it from coming but I can try to turn it into a way of focussing memory. It doesn’t always work, sometimes grief weights heavy for days on end, but sometimes it can dissolve like an aspirin in water.

None of this is a cliché – it is very real for all who miss someone no longer with us.

Thus 2025 will arrive tomorrow as new years have for time eternal. It will bring fresh joy and challenges. In the end, it is Shakespeare’s (and Star Trek’s!) Undiscovered Country. I already have things planned into it but who knows what may happen to the best laid plans of mice and men. Although as Douglas Adams’ wonderfully named character Slartibartfast noted in response to this cliché, “men have very little to do with it”!

Wishing all who read this a very happy, healthy and peaceful new year.