On January 1, 2011 I received a few calls in celebration of our new year. One caller lamented about a group of goof balls in his building who were so loud with their noisemakers and cheers that it awakened him (I was one of those noise makers = D). Another caller asked me what was the significance of all of the noise. Amazingly, that was the first time I participated in a New Year celebration that came with noise makers and an exuberant hostess.
When our hostess initially passed out the noise makers (1 horn and 1 clacker) I was tickled and thanked her for the cute party favors. But, I stopped laughing after she instructed us all to hold onto them.... At midnight, I blew my horn first and it was fun. So, I held my horn in my left hand and shook my clacker in my right hand. The more I blew that horn and shook that clacker, the more celebratory I felt. It was like magic.
I felt like I woke up. Like I had lived life silently and without fan fair all year, and suddenly I had awakened. Like I had missed too many opportunities to live my life on purpose just like I was making noise on purpose. After everyone else stopped, our hostess and I became more jubilant. She even pulled out a tambourine and we danced a little. In those moments, I celebrated being fortunate enough to live to see the dawning of a new year. I celebrated having survived on little with dignity all year long. I celebrated finally realizing the beauty that exist in contentment. I celebrated that in spite of all of the seeming obstacles that have come our way - miracles regularly happen for us. All that noise was my catharsis; my declaration to the Universe that I'M STILL STANDING.
What was your noise about?
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