One year is ending, with all its joy and sorrow. Another will commence, with hope for tomorrow. Time truly is the fire in which we burn.
We base our lives on the planet's revolutions around the sun. A person's age is determined by how many of these they have lived through. Everything we do takes place in the midst of a solar orbit.
Thus, we decide the importance of a year by what we have done during that time. You take the good and the bad, separate them into individual piles, and then see what kind of year you had.
In one stack are miseries aplenty. There will have been losses and failures, disappointments and defeats. We try not to dwell on these things, like ignoring the black dot on the white piece of paper.
The other stack is full of joy. We think about gains and successes, surprises and victories. Though seemingly few, they surround all else.
A year is merely another voyage around the sun. It is what we do that gives it relevance. We decide if it will be an arduous journey or a pleasant trip.