Crossing the line

When people asked me what was my goal for this year, I replied 'to survive'. Well, we're only a few hours off till the end of December, and so I can say, 'In this I succeeded'. And that's not to diminish all the special moments and experiences, small and big, touching and trying, joyful and anguishing, that my day-care duties brought me along the way.

Now I wonder how you will mark the closing of the year and the start of 2011. We'll be doing it quietly, not having any particular ceremony or tradition that appeals. In times long gone by, going to a formal dance was my best and most enjoyable way. Maybe we'll find a few old tunes and do a little slow dancing. Certainly we'll cook a delicious-as-we-can-make-it meal.

Anyhow, thinking about crossings, I remembered the ceremonies that used to take place on board ships between Africa and Europe when we crossed the equator. In fact, the divisive moment was also mentioned in earlier years during air journeys. As far as I know, no-one seems to notice this anymore.

But shipboard crossing the line was fun. Someone with enough weight to add importance to the occasion would be chosen to dress up as Neptune, complete with long, straw wig and a hula skirt. Someone else would be his wife, ditto long braids. Neptune carried the traditional trident to add gravitas. And there were surely some mermaids in their court, which was held on deck near the swimming pool. All those who'd never crossed the equator before were ordered to appear before the Lord of the Ocean and his Lady, and were usually ordered... well, you can guess the rest. Lets just say that most people ended up very wet. Not that that mattered at all, given the location.

Crossings of all kinds can be significant, even that everyday and everynight occurrence of falling asleep and waking up. I mark the start of my prayers and meditations by lighting a candle, and the end by blowing it out. During January I hope to mark the start of a New Year by clearing out lots of old clutter.

Have a good Old Year's Night, dear readers.