On the morning of New Year’s Eve we were on our way to the zoo with the kids. Kamel said to me, “Wait. Is TODAY New Year’s Eve? Is it? Oh my god it is! I thought I had another day! I feel robbed of a day!”
And that is a perfect explanation of how the year went for us.
Most of 2016 for us was a mad-dash. I made plans and then promptly forgot them, only to be reminded the day before, hours before, etc. I skated through by the skin of my teeth in all things. If your experience with me has been that I have all my shit together. Well, friends, that is all smoke and mirrors. My children are lucky to have clean pants and I am always surprised there is food in the fridge.
A lot of people wanted the last few months of 2016 to zoom by. They wanted to skip ahead to 2017. But I had the opposite feelings. I’m afraid of 2017. I am not really hopeful. I am not looking ahead to a clean, shiny new year. I am dreading the climate in the U.S. I am dreading the portrait change in the federal buildings. I am looking ahead with trepidation that the safety of my family may be in jeopardy, that the financial future looks uncertain, that the world is not a kinder, better, healthier place than it was a year ago. The end of 2016 has left me sad and full of feelings with no outlets.
So in 2017 I march.
In 2017 I will be stronger. I will run further.
In 2017 I will spend more time outside.
I will give more than I ever have to institutions who work to protect all of us.
In 2017 I will be sad but I will also be in action.
I will be kind but I will be unyielding.
In 2017 I will be tired, but I will do it anyway.
I will read.
I will drink less and sleep more.
And when the world is bleak and I feel lost, I will play. Because there is always hope somewhere and I need to remember to look for it.