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On New Year's Eve day, my mind goes to the image of a drop of water splashing into a pond. It's a classic picture, the kind you would find in a New Age calendar or in an ad for the environment. This image best conveys the way I feel about New Year's Eve.
Two thousand and eleven is standing on our doorstep, and whether we choose to invite it in or not, it will cross the threshold in less than a day.
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There are times when I tell myself, "What's all the ruckus? It's just a day! Just another day. If we didn't make such a big deal about it, no one would even notice."
But it's also true, that when I turn on CNN and watch the countdown in Time Square, and the crystal ball begins its descent, something quite extraordinary is set in motion. And when the ball finally touches down at the exact point of midnight, and the crowd cheers, and a blizzard of confetti swirls around the skyscrapers of New York City, and then, Frank Sinatra's inimitable voice begins to sing, "Start spreading the news..." I feel as though I'm standing on a precipace at the edge of time.
My past flutters behind me like maple leaves in the wind, and my future spreads before me like a wide, clear slate. And all at once, it seems the entire world has merged into that one drop of water, splashing.
HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!
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