January 1, 2024
Greetings from your biggest fan,
Dear World,
You were incredible last year.
You might have had doubts, glancing at headlines, or listening to people who left the year unhappy. There may be some forgettable research, or a persistent Instagram meme that is distracting you.
So I thought I’d tell you, from here in the cheap seats. You were incredible.
I’ve been traveling around, paying attention, taking notes. You won’t mistake it for scientific research, but you can trust me, I promise. My perspective is fed through a prism we all have, but maybe don’t always see the world through it. So, thanks for a tremendous year.
Perhaps you had mixed feelings about the last twelve months, and I can understand how it would make you a little skittish for the coming year. I don’t blame you, I expect you are feeling a little disappointed in some ways. Which is what led me to write this morning, because it’s pretty easy for the regrets and the mistakes to be all we remember, and I think you’re better than that.
Smart people who count things are already lined up to predict, to measure in advance, to lay out the expectations of the aches and the shadows and the risks. There are statistics to be evaluated, polls to be taken, things to be interpreted, dire warnings to cast. You know, the stuff the world pays attention to.
But, it turns out, the world is more than what can be guessed at. We are more than consumers, more than political affiliations, more than lowest common denominators, more than one, more than all of us, really. We are complicated, and taken together, even more so. Which really is the heartbreak and beauty and possibility of us.
I’m here to remind you that among the mundane, the frustrating, the tragic, you were fantastic. Even when it seems we’ve seen everything, done everything, we were still surprised. We were amazed at what was still beautiful, what was lasting, what was promising. You were inspiring, compassionate, determined. And you will be again this year.
Things were invented for discovery, for the benefit of the world. Many people were healed, or given another chance. The innocent were set free. We gave away our money so people could be healthy, so they could go to school, so they could get help. So they could get a cup of coffee. We cared for each other, imperfectly, which is our nature, and knowing this we tried anyway.
Nature pouted and moped, rightfully, but even as our planet struggles with us, it still provides us with, well, everything. And in a place of such breathtaking beauty. There were hundreds of sunrises and moonsets and green things grew and living things danced among it all with innocent delight. The rivers collaborated with the rocks to make symphonies, the wind wrote scores in the leaves, and light and color made art from the darkness every single day. It is a precious world, and we haven’t always treated it that way, but we will do better. Even as I write this, we are.
There are still mysteries. There is still injustice. There is greed, and envy and anxiety and sorrow and regret. And all of it is happening in the same world as my neighbor making cookies for me. The same place where someone gives more than can be afforded to help a stranger.
We didn’t ignore suffering, or cure it. There are broken places that are still broken, and new ones that will break, and into every crease and ache in the world, there were healers, and there will be again. And on and on and on.
There are names of people we know who died this past year, and a much longer list of people we’ll never know. But most of us made it, and most of us make it more years than we ever have. We still felt grief, still felt that emptiness that can never be filled, and we somehow we gained strength from those others who gathered around and waited with us.
Don’t roll your eyes, you know I am telling the truth. People were heroic. People fell in love. Music was made. Books were read. Moments were celebrated. We made each other laugh. We made friends. We made each other dinner. We made room for strangers. We made room for differences. We kissed and made up. We made babies. We made mistakes and we apologized and started over.
In every baby that was born, and there were a lot of them, there exists a new possibility, a new potential. In each generation, there exists this edging of the needle, a subtle but steady progress in how we behave toward the world, toward each other.
Are there some things that you are not proud of? Sure, but know there were plenty of victories. Even so, don’t let go of the feeling that there could be more, it’s where the growth will be. You keep learning, and even with the setbacks and rabbit holes and the anger and the moments of insanity, the strength is built in the repair, in the recovery from the pain.
There will be incremental changes that no one will thank you for. The shards of hope where there was none. The moments of peace. The refreshing laughter amid grief. The time when, in the midst of cruelty, people were kind to each other. Sometimes with no other reason than to be kind.
So I’m here to share our gratitude for last year, and the hope for this new one. You are going to be incredible.
Hope this finds you at your best,
David
Copyright © 2023 David Smith
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