It’s December 20, 2015 and I am looking out at the white foam of the Caribbean Sea and contemplating life.
I am in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic, and the air is warm off the ocean – the sand is white in the beach expanse between the green sea and the palm trees.
Some 60 years ago Ernest Hemingway began his last work, A Moveable Feast, just north of here in San Paolo, Cuba.
A Moveable Feast, where Hemingway wrote of Paris and Chicago, of Gertrude Stein and his constant search for “one true sentence.”
I understand the inspiration granted by Caribbean islands and white sand – there’s always been something about the ocean that inspires me. I think it’s the vast expanse of water stretching to the horizon—it makes me feel small against the infinite expanse of nature.
As the white waves crash in the distance I sit here in awe of Mother Nature’s power and of my own insignificance against that backdrop.
But also, nestled somewhere beyond the horizon, is the infinite – a world of hope, dreams and possibilities – the promise of a better tomorrow.
Also, strange to consider in this 80 degree-heat, but it’s December.
December has always held a certain power for me, sitting as it does just on the cusp of a new year – a clean slate filled with promise.
I consider these last two weeks of the calendar year sacred – a time to reconnect with family, reflect back on the year and reconsider my goals and aspirations for the next year.
My goals for 2016 (“New Year’s resolutions,” if you will) are simple and few:
- Write consistently (hence my starting this new blog)
- Reconnect with friends
- Exercise more
- Identify and sign a few new clients for Dale Curtis Communications, the strategic communications firm that has enabled this Caribbean vacation
The Old Man and the Sea presents an old fisherman’s struggles with faith and against nature.
But each new year brings us all a clean slate – a fresh start to reinvent ourselves and better shape our own personal destiny.
As I look out at this beautiful Dominican beach and the seemingly infinite power and hope of the green sea, I see the coming year as a challenge for each of us to struggle against ourselves, a challenge to do better.
What will you do with the next 365 days?
How will you have changed by Dec. 20th of 2016, or Jan. 1 of 2017?
Maybe, as my writing improves from daily practice and attention, by January 2017 I will be able to look back on the year and found that I, too, have managed to craft one true sentence.