The universe has no idea that we’re starting a new year. As far as the universe is concerned, all this hoopla as we slip from 2006 into 2007 is a meaningless blip in infinity. The 12-month calendar that forms one of the basic constructs of our human lives — its years and months and days — is strictly a human creation. We invented it as a way to track and predict the turning of the seasons, to make more sense of our time on this Earth. We used to plant and harvest based on those predictions; now, we schedule lunch.

Once humans got the hang of the seasons turning in regular rotation, I wonder whose bright idea it was to have the New Year begin in the absolute darkest time of the cycle. Brilliant, really. Just as we’re ready to retreat to our caves, we have a festive celebration and wipe the slate clean — absolve ourselves of not being as magnificent as we know we can be, and give ourselves permission to start over. The truth is, we could do it every day of our lives. Maybe that is what defines the fully enlightened person.

I’m reasonably enlightened when it comes to my health, having researched and edited so many stories on the topic. Nonetheless, we all have our points of departure when it comes to our own well-being — those places where we know we should do “the right thing,” but sometimes don’t — and, despite dire warnings from the medical establishment, mine is cream.

I was raised in a family where whipped cream was deemed a suitable topping for every dessert, even if that dessert was — and it often was — ice cream. I later refined my predilection while traveling in Africa among British ex-pats for whom high tea with scones and clotted cream is a sacrosanct tradition. I shared the most memorable high tea of that journey with the gentle monarch of the tiny Kingdom of Lesotho, an arid, mountainous country completely surrounded by South Africa. I recall the king’s amusement as I dreamily bit into yet another warm, buttery scone and observed that the pastry was just a vehicle for the mound of clotted cream and jam piled on top.

I take that same kind of melt-in-your-mouth pleasure in words, even though I realize that for many readers, words may be perceived as just a vehicle for ideas. Whole Life Times has been publishing for close to 30 years, and we’ve brought you tons of great ideas and even more great questions. When WLT published my first review in 1988, I had no idea that ultimately I would own — and then sell — this magazine. Guiding it to what you see today has been heart-work. Every word we publish, every idea we put forth, every question we ask passes through my computer, and it gives me great satisfaction to know that many of our stories have made a difference in readers’ lives and in our world.

Words can change the world. Energy follows thought. What we say and envision becomes manifest. So I know that when I leave the magazine at the end of this month — that’s right, this is my final issue (hey, after 18 years, it’s time!) — it will continue to shape our world. We’re the oldest publication of this kind on the planet, and I hope you’ll keep reading us for another 30 years.

I wish you all a peaceful, insightful and blessed 2007. Stay in touch and keep insisting on the truth.

From my heart,
Abigail Lewis

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