By Naomi Serviss / New York City
Raise your hand
if Christmas or New Year’s
went up in smoke.
Stress and anxiety
over canceled flights,
scoring home Covid tests
and sheer panic
stretched our wafer-slim patience to the nth.
Civility took a powder
on flights accentuated by slap-happy,
who forgot their kindergarten lessons.
Who could process resolution-making
when the sky was falling?
Here we go again.
And what’s the point of resolutions, anyway?
They don’t solve problems–
they manufacture agita.
Resolution-making couldn’t help
in transit limbo hell.
High hopes of hugging out
the garbage year with loved ones?
Crushed like harvested wine grapes.
How about those loners stuck home,
kids too far-flung to gather?
The bloom is off the Zoom.
We’re Twilight Zone-terrified
of contracting or passing Omicron,
home Covid tests are a myth
(try to find one!)
and the infection rate
hasn’t even plateaued.
Thanks to the past year’s
floods, blizzards, fires, droughts
and permafrost melts,
maybe we should look up.
By the way, climate change deniers:
it’s NOT “just weather.”
Everything’s a mess.
An unusual warm winter spell in Alaska
had soaring temperatures (60 degrees Fahrenheit)
and torrential rain,
during a period when bitter cold and snow
had been the norm.
Dr. Fauci urged wannabe
New Year’s Eve revelers
to shelve it.
The country has reported
200,000 new Covid cases every day
since October 27.
That’s the highest seven-day period
since January 19, 2021.
I’ve never been much of a resolution-person.
I don’t schedule self-reflection
promptly after winter solstice.
It’s a reflex, always on call.
Plus, making resolutions
gave off religious vibes.
Its Babylonian roots
were sown 4,000 years ago–
The new year began
when crops were planted mid-March.
Resolutions were cast,
to either the reigning or replacement king.
Debts would be settled.
Borrowed items would be returned.
So it shall be written.
Romans were doing likewise or similarly
under Julius Caesar,
who spun the calendar his way,
designated January 1
as the Official New Year.
Resolution-making evolved with the times,
as should our Constitution.
Early Christians held night services
to entice the heathens away from partying.
have tweaked the tradition,
vowing to stop smoking, gambling, drinking.
Some resolutions are well-intended
but not viable.
Like resolving to dissolve
a toxic relationship,
only to be sucked back in,
Or resolving to think before placing
my size 11 foot in my mouth (Sagittarian).
But there are some–
let’s call them goals–
to be aware of.
(Would have written “mindful”
but I am so over that word.)
We can resolve
to be kinder and compassionate
and still demand
social justice and corporate responsibility.
Let’s prioritize what’s important:
*Good health, starting with Mother Earth
*Getting the pandemic under control *No more free trial subscriptions
Solutions might be long aborning,
but let’s dedicate 2022
to restoring faith in,
and being grateful for,
It’s merely a suggestion of intention.
Naomi Serviss is a New York-based award-winning journalist whose work has been published in The New York Times, Newsday, The Philadelphia Inquirer, Highroads (AAA magazine), in-flight publications, spa and travel magazines and websites, including BroadwayWorld.com