TTNY - ‘This time next year’

All photos of Unsplash

A few years ago in the church I attend, there would be a short, weekly interview with an individual about TTT: This Time Tomorrow. It was a great way of getting to know what a Monday morning would look like in somebody else’s life journey. 

 

Whilst reflecting on those life journeys, I thought about TTNW: This Time Next Week. Then, we could go further into next month, next year, the next 5 years, 10 years and then reality has got to kick in at some point, hasn’t it? So allow me to ask about TTNY: This Time Next Year. 

Some of you may remember a TV show, This Time Next Year, that was presented by Davina McCall. It aired between November 2016 and March 2019 over 3 series.  

For any who didn’t watch it, participants made a pledge to fulfil a personal life goal within a 12 month period. The show continued as if a whole year had passed in the space of a few minutes. It was cleverly done. We saw massive weight loss stories such as a mother and daughter who successfully lost 15 stone between them, new careers being followed and a deaf toddler fitted with a cochlear implant for the first time being able to hear and respond to sound. 

There were before and after interviews with a brief 12 month diary clip shown in between which was very emotional and often had viewers in tears. Davina McCall gave some good advice along the way including…

The January Blues!

I read the following comment in the ‘The Guardian’ newspaper quite a while ago - ‘The  dilemma, I’m 22 years old and going into my fourth year in medical school. I have been using study to escape loneliness, insecurity and anxiety that arose from the stress of the course and my failure to establish friends’.

Another person wrote in The Telegraph “‘Life looks good on the surface - so why are we all so lonely?  ‘But you can’t be lonely,’ a friend tells me crossly. ‘You’re out  every night.’ The backhanded compliment makes me laugh. But it also makes me sad. On paper my life sounds glamorous. Denying  you  feel  lonely  makes no  more  sense  than  denying you  feel  hunger’” These are the comments of a high profile journalist who looks as if she is living the high life but most certainly doesn’t feel as if she is.

A new  national  commission  investigating loneliness  in  the  UK,  launched  in  January 2020, shows  that  a  fifth  of  the  population privately  admits  they  are  ‘always  or  often lonely’.  But  two-thirds  of  those people would never  confess  to  having  a  problem  in public. Here is the problem - loneliness is the devastating unseen result of the pressures and emptiness of modern life when people live devoid of real purpose and meaning.

New Year Resolutions

It was in 1994 when Take That had a hit with ‘Everything changes but you’ which starts with… 

Girl, come on over here.

Let me hold you for a little while

And remember I'll always love you

Forever, everything changes but you. 

 

At the start of a new year, many resolutions or important decisions are made. For 2023, research from Go.Compare revealed that 48% of the UK’s population made New Year’s resolutions. Within the top 10 were decisions about weight loss, taking care of mental health and improving finances.  

More of us will be making important choices for 2026…allegedly. It is estimated that more than two thirds of UK adults plan to make a New Year’s Resolution for 2026. I am part of the 32% of people who maintain that we have no plans to set such resolutions.  

The raw power of nature

We all get occasions in our lives when we see something that makes us stop and stand in awe.  It may be a glorious sunset, or a waterfall or a flock of starlings making patterns in the sky.  Some have travelled north into Scandinavia to see the northern lights of gone to Canada to stand at the edge of the Niagara Falls. We can describe such experiences as breathtaking, but often such sights simply are inexpressible.

One of these that I experienced was just over twenty years ago when my wife and I were working together at Murree Christian School in Pakistan.  We were house parents to nineteen children, all of whom were aged six to nine years of age. School life followed a fairly regular routine, but, occasionally we would take them out for a special treat. On this occasion it was nearing the end of the school year so we went from Jhika Gali, where the school was sited, to Murree for an “evening out”.