There isn’t much to say about 2020 except it was a helluva year. 

There isn’t much to say about 2021 except I am glad I will be here for it. Over 300,000 Americans and almost 2 million people around the world won’t, and that is worth remembering. 

Yes, it was a helluva year.  

Lately, I have been spending a lot of time on the meditation cushion, just feeling the sensations in my body and creating more and more space in my head. I recognize this as an “input” time, which makes it hard to write, and that is okay. I want to say all of the deep things, but I am still peeling back the layers and discovering more. There will be one post marked “December”, and so I am checking off that goal and letting the aspiration go. More of that moving forward, eh?

It will take me awhile to process all of the tragedy and tumult, as well as the parts that were sweet, inspiring, hilarious, and full of love, for there were moments like that too. Just last night, I laid my cheek on my son’s head and breathed in the scent of his shampoo while we looked at a book about trucks.  He can almost read it himself and that feels like a miracle. I can’t say everything is terrible because we still have each other and we are still here. 

In time, it may turn out to be that for many of us, 2020 was actually a gift, albeit one that came at a great price. Perhaps, the true legacy of 2020 will be what we do with all of the hardship.  If it opens us up to greater connection with and compassion for our families, our neighbors, our communities, and a future where we collectively care for one another, then maybe it was necessary and even worth it. I am optimistic that this outcome is possible and it is something I look forward to being a part of.  

In the meantime, I am still processing.  

May you and I both be at ease and touch joy in the simplicities of another day.