This morning, I was relieved to learn that my friends had marked themselves safe from Colorado's Marshall Fire. As the unthinkable slowly normalizes, sometimes it seems the entire world is on fire, buckling from ignorance and anger.
This year, my home seemed like a microcosm of the surrounding chaos, as we managed multiple and overlapping medical conditions, including surgeries and injuries, cancer and Covid.
When I told my husband, the most ebullient human being I know, that I hoped 2022 would be a better year for us, I expected cheerful optimism.
Instead, he reminded me: it's not in our hands.
It was hard to hear, but obviously true. As much as I need to feel I am in control, this year has taught me otherwise. Indeed, I learned that I control only one thing: my approach to life.
As such, rather than adopting multiple resolutions for the upcoming year, I will set just two:
I resolve to be grateful. I lost my mother this year, after a long and painful battle with pancreatic cancer. As harrowing as the journey was, it highlighted the riches in my life: a roof over my head, the means to care for her, and ready access to medical care.
I resolve to be hopeful. As painful as it is to witness the accelerating disregard for the planet—and for each other—this is not the time for despondency. Instead, I must find the courage to stand up and speak out, to express what I see and how I feel.
So, on this last day of 2021, I mark myself safe.
I mark myself grateful.
I mark myself hopeful.
And I resolve to do the same tomorrow, and the next day, and the next.
Thank you for reading, commenting, messaging, and sharing your inner lives with me this year. I'm honored by your trust. Wishing each of you health and happiness in 2022!