Tomorrow

On 31 December, as I thought about the New Year’s Day, I became keenly aware of the artificiality of conceiving time numerically.  There is no boundary marking the shift from the last day of this year to the first day of the next unless you watch the fall of the ball at Times Square in New York or open a new calendar.  After all, a day follows another, as one minute another for that matter, seamlessly like the water of the river one never crosses twice, to paraphrase Heraclitus.  Like birds and beasts and plants I am keenly aware of seasonal changes but not of calendar counts.  Tomorrow is another day, as we say. Then, it occurred to me that this statement is double-edged.  It could mean, optimistically, that there is still another day after all, which could be or might be better than today.  On the other hand, it can be taken pessimistically that days come and go and tomorrow is yet just another day, no better and no worse than today.  For me, every new day is something to look forward to.