I think the only question worth asking to oneself in the new year is whether the year that went by left you wiser. Rest all is just commentary as we are fundamentally incapable of change.

I think, for me, the answer is a clear unequivocal yes. The year left me wiser, carved me deeper (sometimes with a blunt knife), though i can still see as clear as daylight the dead weights i carry at times, probably those i will carry with me for decades to come, but maybe the key is to not add more along the way.

But being wiser often comes at the cost of being honest. Unpretentiousness doesn’t go well with wisdom, does it? More often than not, it is accompanied by a trait of cynicism which seeps in imperceptibly, the subtle realisation that, to use a cliche, very few things matter. And it often results that though one is deeper, fewer and fewer things reach that depth, splashes of glee when irrelevant irrational happennings could reach a shallower self sending you soaring, now you allow them to barely cause a ripple. Ability to feel more paradoxically results in one feeling less, doesn’t it?

So the challenge for the new year would be to shrug off the cynicism while at the same time remaining this unconflicted self. Especially the cynicism in writing.

If it comes at the cost of becoming shallower, naiver, it would be not a big price to pay.