Ed. note: Yes, certainly, parts of last year were pretty bad, yes, we noticed that. But not everything is terrible at all times in every way. And maybe, possibly, even probably, in this new year good things will happen.
Craig: A Robbie Robertson song contains some of my favorite lyrics:
Give us the strength
Give us the wisdom
And give us tomorrow
The good thing I’m noticing is that time doesn’t stop. We keep being given tomorrow. It’s not a guarantee, a plug could get pulled on the video game of us, but so far it’s worked. It’s worth a prayer now and then, or mention in a song (“Showdown at Big Sky” by Robbie Robertson).
What more could we ask for than tomorrow, and what is more sure than sunrise?
For the record, the next lyrics in the song are a call to action, so let’s get busy:
Let the bells ring out (ring those bells)
Hear the bells ringin’
Let the bells ring out (all the people gonna)
Keep on ringing, ringing (ring those bells)
Ben: This October, less than two months after the demolition of four dams on the lower Klamath River, chinook salmon returned to spawn in tributaries far above the uppermost barrier, reaches where no salmon have bred for decades. In my book, that decisively qualifies as a Good Thing That Has Already Happened — a reminder of nature’s innate capacity for renewal and recovery when we don’t actively impede it. Along similar lines, I’m taking heart in the recent news that the federal government will spend $25 million building new underpasses and fences to help endangered red wolves safely cross Highway 64 in North Carolina, another instance of modifying our sclerotic infrastructure to facilitate the movement of a keystone species. May we see many more such examples in 2025.
Emily: Maybe we’ll sleep through the night! Maybe we’ll see our friends again and eat things that don’t have to be defrosted and stop putting essential items like our car keys into the washing machine. Maybe, as we emerge from survival mode, we’ll start reading more and our perspectives will widen and we’ll be better friends and neighbors and start reciprocating more of the love and support we received last year. Maybe we’ll stop caring about whether our pants will ever fit again. Maybe that energy will be directed toward more meaningful endeavors, like resisting the monotonous terror that’s so insidiously seeping into our daily lives, like IT’s rhythmic pulse in A Wrinkle in Time.
What will that look like? Maybe like comedian Eddie Izzard’s exhortation to her post-election audience in November: “Be curious! Be brave!” Whipping her butt-length blonde ponytail around and striding across the stage in sky-high heels and a black sequined minidress: “Go thou forth and do things!”
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Baby hoopoe, dinner incoming: By Luckhy86 – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=148539977
Whatever those people are doing: By Jakub Hałun – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=111204680
