January marks a beginning, which implies an ending. The new year casts a forward-looking vision, and the calendar's turn has us looking back. We spent December considering the year through best-of lists, recollections of those who passed away, and our subjective reviews—a kind of evaluative posture if you will. Now, the turn to a new month and a new year.
January is named after the ancient Roman god Janus, an animistic spirit of thresholds often depicted with two faces, one facing forward and the other backward. Ancient people sought a mythical, poetic way of capturing the idea of crossing a portal from one time to another. Hence, the first month of the year was named January around 700 B.C.E., replacing March, which had previously marked the turning of the calendar. Later reforms by Ceasar and then Christians in the Gregorian calendar kept the name and dating.
Depending on one's stage in life, you'll view this threshold time of year differently. There's a broad generalization that the younger you are, the more forward-looking you might be, while the opposite could be true for those rich in years. While that may be true, I'll suggest that one of the distinctive characteristics of our psyche/soul might be that it leans toward a forward-moving perspective. Something in us pulls us forward in life.
"…man does not live very long in the infantile environment or the bosom of his family without real danger to his mental health. Life calls him forth to independence, and he who gives no heed to this hard call because of childish indolence and fear is threatened by a neurosis, and once the neurosis has broken out it becomes more and more a valid reason to escape the battle with life and to remain for all time in the morally poisoned infantile atmosphere."
― C.G. Jung, Psychology of the Unconscious
This attitude is at the heart of the call to adventure, the call to growth, the call to become. Yes, that call can be encumbered by various societal, familial, and individual factors, but deep within each human being, this call from one side of the threshold to the next remains. This is why humanity, despite all its problems, continues to evolve. Yes, it's pretty easy to joke about the end of progress, the lack of evolution, and the dysfunction of people and society. I get that, and I've made those same jokes myself.
Regardless of our frailty, our propensity for incompetence, and our cowardice, we still seem desirous of what can be. This yearning is both spiritual and material. It's rooted in something larger than us, and we wish to move towards it, however vague that something may seem. It's also connected with our longing to create—to make our lives and our world better. Thus, we build houses, feed people, and pursue artistic projects.
Sure, we can live in dismay at the times. But to quote that great Middle Earth Theologian of the Lord of the Rings, Gandalf.
"I wish it not have happened in my time," said Frodo.
"So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us."
As we step across the threshold into 2025, what will you do with the life you have been given?
More to Come,
James Hazelwood is the author of several books, including Ordinary Mysteries: Reflections on Faith, Doubt, and Meaning. His website is www.jameshazelwood.net. This “Notebooks” newsletter is typically published twice a month on Substack and his website in the Essays section.