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Do you remember the last time you got a real hug? Over the past year, I can remember four very special hugs.

The first one happened when I was waiting in line to get into the Municipal Theater for a performance by the exceptional musician Maurício Einhorn. After he tried his luck with some people in line, without much success, a homeless man approached me and asked for money. When I offered it to him, he spontaneously gave me a hug so tight that he wrinkled my outfit a little and walked away smiling.

The second hug and the third hug were similar, as they both came from two young women, accompanied by their companions, also homeless. One of them was pregnant and, unlike the man at the theater, on both occasions the ladies asked permission to hug me.

The fourth hug happened when my travel backpack arrived from the dry cleaners. Before putting it back in the closet, I took it out of the plastic bag and the smell that filled the room evoked so many memories… That simple object represented a whole series of experiences lived throughout the year, and without really realizing it, I hugged my backpack. For a long time.

In my defense, I would like to say that the power of small things to release powerful memories and affections has already been the subject of great masters of literature, such as Marcel Proust.

There is a lot of power in small things, in small gestures, in small events, those that seem trivial, but that together are responsible for the largest part of our existence.

In this year that has just begun, I want to wish you many memorable experiences, of all sizes. And, of course, lots of tight hugs.

Happy New Year!

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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Once, an ex tried to convince me to go back together with him in a quite, let us say, original way. He said that he really wanted to wake up next to a singer because, according to him, we get up singing. Did it work? No way! I remained irreducible. And you do not need to feel sorry for him, okay? The guy was a jerk. What kind? A “I-do-not-like-you-traveling-alone-to-conferences” kind of jerk. Nevertheless, he had a point.

I always thought this was something everyone did on a normal basis. It never occurred to me that entering the day singingit was a privilege, let alone a specific characteristic of singers. I wonder if my many birthday rituals also count as, let us say singer’s follies.

The thing with my b-day superticious is that they are quite flexible, but they usually include changing the bed linen, bringing the garbage out, followed by a nice shower or bath, finalizing with a glass of Champagne by midnight. They may or may not include posting a story on a social network (sign of the times) or some sort of self-care routine, such as a facial moisturing mask.

Silly? Sure it is silly, but it helps me somehow, not only to leave the previous solar year and all the stuff I do not need anymore behind, but also getting ready for the new cycle to come. To be honest, I think my rituals are charming, say what you will.

You know what? I am sure you have your rituals too, if not for your birthday, at least for some special dates, such as New Year´s Eve. Am I right?

Here in Brazil there are many rituals for the last last of the year: we dress in white, eat lentils and grapes (seven grapes, to be more specific) and there is a complete chapter on how the colour of your underwear will influence your life in the coming year (yellow for money, red for love, green for health, so on and so forth, and another one for the beach-related rituals suposed to bring you good luck.

My guess is that we follow rituals for a variety of reasons, including the fleeting feeling of power over a destiny we do not control. Whatever your ritual to start another year might be, I wish you face the inevitable coming challenges with courage, because often that is all life asks of us.

Happy New Year and, as Annie Lennox sings in Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This):

Hold your head up (movin’ on)

and keep your head up (movin’ on)

Be seeing you!

G.F.