Honestly, I’m not sure I’m ready for a new year. There’s so much that feels unresolved from the old year, and the years before it, as well. It’s already been one heck of a decade, and I find myself moving forward with as much trepidation as hope.
But, well, time doesn’t care about that sort of thing, and I’ve passed through enough new years (on three different calendars) to know that they never wait for us to feel prepared for them.
So here we are, standing amid loss and change and plague but still standing, and moving forward even. Because there’ll be moments of joy in the year ahead, too, so the least we can do is gather up the courage to meet them.
And so we do. So we do.
A good and a brave new year to you all.
Five months in, and you know what? It’s okay, actually. There’s still a lot that needs healing, changing, radical revisioning all around us. But there’s hope there, too, fragile but taking root.