That collective feeling of hope still lingers
Hello friends,
Well, we made it. The worst year in living history is finally over. Of course, the only thing that changed at midnight was the number on the calendar. All of yesterday's garbage is still with us. But that collective feeling of hope still lingers.
I don't have anything profound to say. The pundits and bloggers have said it all by this point, and compounding on that feels trite. But yesterday, I pulled a few tarot cards and journaled a bit. The introspection forced me to confront some things I'd pushed to the back of my mind. Looking at my flaws like that, under a microscope, didn't feel great, but it felt necessary. There's a clarity that comes with admitting failure. And even if this year begins no different than the last one ended, something within me shifted.
The number on the calendar changes nothing, but it allows us to change ourselves. That's all we can do, really. We can't control the pandemic or the government or the seemingly endless supply of bad luck, but we can control ourselves. We can change how we relate to the world, and maybe the world will change as a result.
I wish you all the best in the coming year.
Shabbat shalom,
Yardena