Purple
On looking back at the year
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Dear Bolu,
As the curtains close on 2023, we may pause to take stock of the year in our fancy purple jotters. We may, on one ponderous Sunday evening, find ourselves seated in the corner of our room, with a pen in hand, a bowl of cookies within reach, and Sade’s melodies in the air. Before us, a checklist of items pregnant with all the dreams we had for the year when it started, and within us, a simmering feeling of sadness and disappointment.
It hasn't altogether been a bad year. We got promoted and exhibited our collection at a gallery opening. We ate more home-cooked meals and phoned Papa frequently—perhaps too frequently. We kissed a bride and became a father. We won the treble and a World Cup too. We learned to drive and got our first car—the Kia we've always wanted and it's purple, Mama's favourite colour. We took scary dives from the sky and tried ramen for the first time. Although we managed some feats we're extremely proud of, we also failed gracefully—even woefully—at others, and those failures sadden us.
Despite our best efforts to go to the gym regularly, working out hasn't quite worked out for us and we have eight more pounds and extra rolls of belly fat to show for it. Twice, we flunked an exam we were sure we adequately prepared for, so an extra year in this school of frustrations is in the offing. We may have had a hand in these failures, but we're assured of our blamelessness in others. We got heartbroken by a love that could never be ours. We lost Mama to the virus and Moose, our comfort cat, to a car accident. Although the promotion came, the pay rise was ridiculous and it hasn't moved a needle in our finances. Our wallets are fatter than ever, but the inflation makes them seem even less so.
When all balances are taken, and the plusses and minuses tallied, we may find that we have a net deficit. In other words, overall, we’ve not moved forward over the last 12 months. We’re not even stuck, no, we’ve regressed. And we become sullen. When that happens—as it will if not this year, then the one after—we must remember to take it easy. We are critical of ourselves out of self-love, yet it is precisely in those moments of self-criticism that the temptation to embrace self-loathing is most potent. Some years would be kind to us. Others, like this one, perhaps, would be long and unkind. Whatever our lot may be—whether our balance sheet is in the red or green—our consolation should be that a new year is around the corner. In the best-case scenario, it offers us another opportunity to replicate this year's successful formula. And at worst, dear friend, it provides us with a chance to learn from our mistakes.
Fin.
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Write you soon, merci!
- Wolemercy