I hesitate to think, let alone write this, but it looks like we are going to make it through 2020. Yeah, I know, we have another day to go, but with a negative Covid test under my belt (or, more accurately, up my nose, tickling my brain), I have as much confidence as humanly possible that I, we, will make it to 2021.
There is absolutely nothing new to say about the year gone by.
Every nuance, emotion, and life changing observation has been made.
Writers far superior to me have done an exceptional job reflecting back on what can only be described as a ridiculous, terrifying, obnoxious, depressing, super strange year. They’ve dissected the layer upon layer of shitstorminess. They’ve turned everything on its ear and extracted the abundance of positive that has come from it. And they have laid the groundwork to prepare us all that, come Friday at 12:00 a.m., not a lot is going to change.
So what can I add?
Well, here we go.
Not proud to admit this, but I am kinda a pessimist. That stupid glass (more often than not) tends to be half empty. It is my least favorite character trait. Though I refuse to make a New Year’s Resolution, if I were to, it would be to be more positive. There, I said it. But it is not a resolution. I don’t do resolutions. Gonna be positive. Dammit.
So many people are suffering on so many levels. They are ill. They are out of work. They don’t know how they will pay for their next meal. They are lonely (well, I think we are all a little lonely), they are scared, terrified, actually. They are unsure how they will survive. I, thankfully, am not any of the aforementioned. Except the lonely part. Because I think we are all lonely. Although my loneliness is not alongside isolation. Isolation is the true demon.
I am becoming ever more mindful of just how fortunate I am, and more than a little ashamed at sometimes getting caught up in my own (largely uncalled for) misery. That’s not to say that it is not cool to be struggling right now – because, really, who isn’t to some degree or another – but I really have a life that is an embarrassment of riches. Here’s why (and it is pretty simple…):
- I am healthy. (The old me would have started that sentence with: “Sure, I have aches and pains, but…”)
- I have great kids who are doing well. (old me: “Man, there have been lots bumps and unpleasantries, and there may have been a few instances where I have considered murder, but…”)
- I adore my husband. (old me: “Even though he can drive me completely out of my mind…”)(That’s true. He really can. But I adore him nonetheless.)
- I have a beautiful home (old me: “Aside from the kitchen cabinets circa 1960…”)
- I had the best father ever. My mother is the bomb. My brothers? Also outstanding. So, too, my in-laws. (old me: actually, I have always felt that way. Win!)
- I am attractive enough, smart enough, kind enough, thoughtful enough, strong enough. (old me:”If only I were _____, or _____, or even ______, I’d be awesome.)
I could go on. And on. I have a pretty rockin’ set up. Others do not. Others have an even better one. That’s never going to change.
Everyone – as in: e.v.e.r.y.o.n.e. – is struggling to some degree. I am quite certain that, even those among us who have a blessed life, 2020 was not easy. There should be no shame in admitting that.
Let’s not disallow ourselves to feel our feelings just because others have it worse. There will always be folks who have it worse. Or better. There will always be people with more and people with less.
2020 did an incredible job of taking our psyches and throwing them up in the air, but not before making sure there was no net.
In 2021, let’s try to be each other’s net. I’ll be yours if you’ll be mine. Whaddya say?
Wishing you everything you hope for in the new year and contentment with your many blessings.