For some, it’s a time for new beginnings after taking stock of formerly new beginnings, many of which have become endings. It’s a new year. For me, that means new calendars on the wall and that’s about it. When I was little, Dick Clark danced on my TV and I struggled to keep my eyes open past midnight so I could bang the pots and pans from my parents’ kitchen on the front steps of our row house. Even as I got older, if I didn’t struggle with staying awake, I found it difficult to get excited about the turning of a new year at midnight on December 31. It’s symbolic. I get it. But it just doesn’t rile me up like it does other people. I see every day as a new beginning. Every moment can be. And if something is worth doing, there’s no need to wait for the new year to start.