Year of the Pig

Well, tomorrow is Chinese New Year and my family is having dinner together tonight, as is tradition in most Asian households during this time of year. I suppose celebrating the end of one year and the beginning of another with your family isn't a bad tradition to have.

I've talked a little bit about beginnings and endings on this here blog and I've been surrounded by quite a bit of it in my life. Last year was a very transitional year for me with the decision to take the writing more seriously than I ever have in the past. I did a lot of reconnecting with old friends, grew closer to many new friends and also grew more distant with people that aren't positive influences in my life.

Within my own household, 2006 was a year of milestones. The birth of my nephew, Sebastian, brought on a big change in my sister and brother-in-law's lives. My own decision to move to LA and pursue a writing career obviously brings a lot of change for myself, but in turn it creates a big change for my mother as her youngest child moves away.

We often describe endings to be bittersweet, I suppose you can describe beginnings in the same way at times. I look at this beginning in that way. My friend jokingly said I talk about my last days in San Francisco like I talk about my last days on Earth. I laughed, but I suppose there's some truth to his statement. Perhaps I'm just a self-absorbed drama queen, I like to think I'm just the kind of person who is very proud of the company he keeps and is sad about leaving them. I want to make these last few weeks really count.

My family and friends represent 'home' to me. Leaving the city isn't hard, leaving them is. The city of San Francisco may not necessarily be 'home', but its a city so rich with history and I feel as though I didn't fully take advantage of that in my 27 years here. I suppose leaving adds to its history be leaving behind my own.

I was in the front yard today looking at the Chinese New Year blossoms and thinking about how they are somewhat of a mysterious plant to me. For the majority of the year they sit in the dirt looking like nothing more than lifeless branches filled with thorns and nothing else. As we celebrate the passing of December into January you might begin to see small green buds appear between the thorns and sure enough, when it's time to pass out red envelopes and light firecrackers, they bloom in their reds, whites and pinks.

I know there isn't much mystery to it if you know a thing or two about biology, but Chinese New Year always had a bit of a mystique to me. The 'coincidences' that have led to my eventual move to LA holds a similar mystique. Everything from timing, housing, people and circumstances all seem to be in alignment by someones design. Maybe there's an unknown science behind it all, or maybe this is meant to be.

Whatever the explanation is, whenever the season is right, I know I'll see blossoms on thorny branches, I know my mom will make dumplings and I know I'll hear the crackle of gunpowder bursting from it its red paper casings. Happy Chinese New Year everybody.