The year we knew is ending, and darkness swirls around us. We can’t guess what will come next—especially in 2017 when change is the only sure bet. We peer into the void, looking for a shining seed of hope, a tiny promise that life could be better. Some of us will find it. But some of us may be left watching bath water cascading through the sky to splash on the ground around us, littering the landscape with babies. (You’ve heard of throwing the baby out with the bath water, haven’t you?) Taking things apart is easy. Building something better is difficult. Answers that appear to be simple often aren’t simple or effective.
One guaranteed positive is that each of us will be forced to look at the years before 2017 to see what we treasured and how we can continue feeding our joy—perhaps in a fresh way. We’ll be forced to examine who we are and whether we have the determination, intelligence, and courage to stand up for ourselves and our idea of a better world. We’ll have to set aside our cells to truly see the people around us, looking beyond superficial differences to find new teachers, new friends. We may have to stare down violence, gambling our lives.
We’ll have to find a way to overcome fear, greed, and selfishness or we may create a more deeply profound darkness. In A CHRISTMAS CAROL, Charles Dickens wrote that we all have two children: Want and Ignorance. The quality of our world depends on how we treat those children. That hasn’t changed since Dickens’ day. Compassion still works—sending benefits in both directions.
Hope is such a small word, but it’s breath and heartbeat. We clutch hope in our fists, knowing happiness isn’t a “gimmee” or a sale item. People have placed their bets. The wheel is turning. What we do with the good or bad we receive in the new year will determine much of what we receive next.
For my part, just now I’m sick with a cold. My eyes are tearing by themselves and my sinuses hate me. Hope is difficult for me to spot right now. I lost people who were beloved to me this past year. I found new friends and new personal strength. I’ll use the strength to face the incoming challenges—hopefully without flinching. I’m made of resilient stuff. We all are, if we can remember to use our adaptability.
I wish you courage, love, and wisdom in 2017. I wish you hope. We’re in this together.