A Day Late and a Dollar Short

How I greeted 2026 . . .

How I imagined myself greeting 2026 . . .

I had such high hopes for 2026.

As I’ve said before, I’m a possibilist, which means I believe not only in hope but in hope made real through careful analysis of what’s possible, and hard work to bring that to fruition. And nowhere is that philosophy more evident than in my dreams for each new year.

But life has been so busy, and, quite frankly, stressful, what with medical crises (multiple), a transition at work, and holidays (and of course politics, divisions, war, famine, grief and pain seemingly everywhere), that I have not had a moment to breathe much less make plans for the year.

It does not bode well for success that I am just now, on January 6, getting to my Happy New Year post.

Already a day late and a dollar short, less than one week into the brand new year.

I have read that we Americans put too much store by new years’ celebrations, and it’s certainly true that Americans are quintessentially about fresh starts and new beginnings.

(Or at least we used to be. Lately it feels like many espouse some version of Lock ‘em up and throw away the key, not only for criminals—even though “commit the crime do the time” used to be considered the precursor to rehabilitation, not a Pontius Pilate washing-our-hands of the problem—but also for people who look different or have different opinions. And don’t get me started on how quick we are to simply say f*** it to any problem that doesn’t lend itself to a solution that can be encapsulated in a meme!)

But maybe it’s time to ease up on the idea that next year must be better. Maybe give the new year, and ourselves, a much-needed break.

We as a nation, and I as an individual, certainly have room for improvement. Just as importantly, I believe we have the capacity for improvement, collectively and individually. We can be kinder, more thoughtful, more collaborative in solving problems that affect us all. We can refuse to hurl childish insults, refuse to shove others into narrow boxes with labels that stand in for “other” (liberal, conservative, religious, straight, queer . . . as if any person could be summed up and dismissed with a single word).

We can refuse to demand ideological purity as a contingent to extending friendship or simple courtesy.

And we can refuse to ignore the consequences to “the least of these” from our political and personal actions.

But to expect the turn of a page on the calendar to miraculously bring about those changes seems foolhardy, and destined for disappointment.

So today, instead of any new year’s resolutions, I adopt gentler, AA-style sentiments.

Just for today, I will . . .

 . . .  try to see the person beneath the bluster

 . . . take a long, sweet, grounding breath before reacting

. . . pet my dear soft loving dog when I feel overwhelmed, stressed, or angry

 . . . sing a little song, dance a little “soft shoe slow dance for one” (a quote from my favorite Claflin and Grace song, In the Kitchen), have a little chocolate, and remember to find those glimmers my friend Charlotte Rains Dixon talks about.

And January 6 seems as good a time as any to try.

How about you?