~a column by Colleen O’Brien
It is the end of what such a short time ago was a new year. My friend wrote to me last New Year’s day, “I have liked the numbers in 2013 — the steadiness of 20; the energy of 13, roundly full of promise.”
2013 was not, however, a promising year. For humanity, the planet or the solar system itself (since we’re in it), danger lurked at every turn; we lived wildly, paying no attention to the signs.
Now here we are, crowding in on 2014.
Since 2001, we have taken our own sweet time maturing out of the male teenage behavior of the 1900s – fighting, swaggering macho-ness.
Humans have crash-banged into this new century with the usual suspects – hate and mayhem – in tow.
But, giving each century its worth according to its age, from babyhood to now . . . we are out of the teens . . . at least if we’re counting in Western centuries. And only six more years until we’re out of the teens of this century called 20. Steadily, incrementally, perhaps we can now head away by the day from the idiocy of youth.
There is always hope for the planet – that thing that poet Edna St. Vincent Millay wrote about: Hope is the thing with feathers/That perches in the soul,/And sings the tune without the words,/And never stops at all.
There is the slight hint in the air that we are growing up, maturing. We recognize things our simple young brains could not fathom or care about. The me-ness of babyhood and growing up is falling away, and we can look forward to a little more intelligence working for us, figuratively spewing out of us.
During this full-of-promise year of 2013, there were enough wars on the planet to make the gun-runners billionaires and enough pollution to make us all gag. But, looking to the next new year instead of the past ones, we are moving past teenagehood. Something good, like knowing our purpose on the planet, will show up any day now.
I like the idea of 2014, a kind of upright look to it, with that now familiar heft and maturity of 20, compared to 19 (that dangerously youthful, brash, bold, callow century). This one doesn’t look to be clearing up any messes yet, but it’s early days; something good will happen as we continue to mature into a responsible young adult century, with hope, energy to spare, ideas and creativity bursting from our wrinkleless brows. We will have fun, because people in their twenties have fun. Even as they are assuming the responsibilities of jobs and mates and kids and dogs and lawn mowing, they will approach life with laughter and silliness. They will grow green beans in their backyards and walk to the store for a pound of bread instead of driving a 2,000-pound SUV for 16 ounces worth of whole wheat. They will think before they act, a whole new scene for the planet.
The bees will go berserk when they learn that we loathe Ready Round-Up and would rather live with dandelions than 2-4D.
The old fogies in politics will totter off to the home to play mahjong and Texas hold-‘em, and the rest of us will raise a toast that even though the bigwigs didn’t want it to, Social Security held out, and their avaricious, selfish, untutored souls will be kept away from DC and all state houses forever more.
The idealism of twenty-hood will spring green, and we will easily get the subsidies away from the carbon folks so we can give it to the greenies, who love wind and solar and wave and geothermal like the 19th century loved viscous oil and tar and coal dust.
The earth will have the whole century of 20 to be youthfully exuberant, smart and idea-ful, individuals not concentrating on their own wealth but concerned about the prosperity of their countries and all the folks therein, about doing something solid and redeeming so we can have a century that starts with 21.
Things are looking good, humans. I know that not all teenagers are bad, but as a group, as a stereotype, their brains being not yet fully formed, they are a myopic lot.
Now that a new century that is not a teen is ours to live in, well, fret not, for hope perches in our souls, health is nigh.
