The tradition of the New Year countdown has not felt the same as in previous years. At least for me. I’m sure others feel the same, but maybe not. Depending what we mean by “new” is critical to how we perceive our situations, outcomes, relationships, and even our ethical formation. When we countdown to the “new,” what exactly are we implying?
A few days ago, I ordered a slice of pizza from a favorite pizzeria. The pizzas were unusually slow coming out of the oven due to the shortage of workers. A single, multitasking worker remained postured enough to handle and manage customers who were angry for not having their pizza slices ready on time. The worker continually reminded and pleaded with customers behind his mask, “Please be patient, I am the only one in at the moment.”
The plead for the moment is the context.
A feel for the new might sound like the elimination of Covid-19 – including the lessening of hospitalizations, death, loss. Without a doubt, many will gather to drink and eat cheering in the new year, creating a space in which we might find a sense of belonging and mutual wanting of better things, better results. New year’s resolutions might be shared only to have them dismantled within two weeks. They often fail because they remain contingent on additional reworking of space, items, and purchases. “I need a new phone to do….” “I need new shoes to start….” “I need a new bike so that I can….” “if I purchased a new running outfit I could…” Contingent resolutions have a way of being agents of encouragement only to leave us empty after realizing items, spaces, purchases do not have emotions. When we feel exhausted, uneven, or discouraged, no item can revive us.
The context for the new often pleads for action.
The worker at the pizzeria was still holding on with a surprising calmness. A man silently waiting for his slice of pizza finally came forward to the young worker and expressed the following: “I just want to let you know that if it was me, I would have lost it and possibly quit my job. Props to you. It is people like you that still give me hope.” The worker looked puzzled, making me believe he was going to respond. But his silence broke in response, “That is completely new. That was unexpected. I needed to hear that.”
Ah, there it was! The new – the unexpected affirmation. It was all here in a pizzeria with angry customers and a single worker. The affirmation was not going to eliminate the situation, per se, but it changed the mood and provided a needed voice. The worker said, “I needed to hear that.” Sometimes the new is so foreign to our ears, it is difficult to believe it. No, not a new car or outfit. A new voice – an unexpected and unknown voice affirming our work, our time, commitment, and empathy.
It was simple, subtle, beautiful. You have to understand we were all masked. This season we have been speaking more with our eyes and less from our covered mouths. The expression from the customer and the response from the worker was heard and gazed. The new included the hearing and the seeing. The gaze cemented a tangible grasp, the words reached the worker’s core. And there I was taking the moment in. It was refreshing, unexpected, and sudden.
The act of the new provides opportunity.
When we countdown to the new, what are we implying? An item, an affirmation, a gaze, possibly another slice of pizza? Are we asking for simplicity, security of a kind, an aesthetic experience? I’d like to suggest that the new is right in front of us. It might seem old – same family, same issues, same bills, same voices. The moment, however, need not remain the same. The moment can be new. We, too, can step up and make it new.
Someone may need to hear it.
Happy “New” Year!