Reflecting ...

Sitting here as 2008 comes to an end. A very highly anticipated end I must add. The chapter 2008 of our lives is finally closing, much to our great relief. It's like there is a universal agreement that this year will go down in history as one of the worst. I won't dwell on that. Everything has been said and done - in every scrutinizing way conceivable to man.

To sit and reminisce about the entire year. To mull over the past 365 days. Too many thoughts, too many incidents, and too many emotions. The setbacks, the difficulties and the breakthroughs. The dilemmas, the tragedies and the crises - personal, professional and global. To spice it up a little, add all the small - but remarkable nonetheless - victories, achievements and joys. Happy moments and moments of insane laugher as well. There is one thing I must admit about 2008: the year was definitely loaded, with more than its fair share of events!

2008 has been one hell of a year.

At this very moment, as I consciously sit and write about 2008 for me, I am feeling very reluctant. Why is December 31st the time to look back? The time to reflect. The time to make resolutions for the new year to come. As we kiss 2008 goodbye and welcome 2009 with arms cautiously wide open, why do we make lists of what we want to do and change and where we want to go (physically and metaphorically), knowing all too well that most of it will be dropped and forgotten by Valentine ?

What about decisions you've taken mid-way through the year and have meant something? What about revelations that do happen on a casual Sunday afternoon after a long day at work, after the battle with traffic and errands and the must-do and must-take phone calls? They are sometimes an eye-opener in every sense of the word.

I can ponder and I can contemplate. There is plenty to consider in 2008, but I find solace in a single reflection. Reflecting on the raging daemons that have surprisingly gone dormant, leaving behind a sense of calm. The feeling is almost surreal. Their noise is down to a whisper. Their shadows no longer block the sun and rain. Their toxic fumes won't cloud your judgment either. There is no 24/7 warp speed blur, just amazing exhilarating serenity.

I am fully aware they will wake up from this slumber, it's only the nature of their existence. That thought makes me smile. It's bizarre and disturbing, and what's even more alarming, I kind of know why. It is undeniably way too cliché. Way too cliché.

Come what may.

Disclaimer to any reader for feeling mushy, corny or nauseous right now. My most sincere apologies.