2021: The Year of Apprehension

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com – In remembrance of New Years Eves past

The COVID-19 pandemic, the battered democracy, the turbulence of racial and economic struggles – this is definitely the Year of Apprehension. We’ll probably all survive. Even if a lot of people continue to suffer and die and need our attention.

Given the difficulty of looking ahead, I dug into the archives for a look back. New Year blogs – and a bunch of New Year stories that pre-date the era of the blog – turn out to offer many bright spots and a little reassurance.

New Year’s 2000 – That one was fun. Remember the Y2K problem? The Millennium Bug? Computers everywhere, unequipped to deal with this new digit coming after 1999, would be crashing and burning and taking us all down with them? My husband and I actually attended a somewhat subdued New Year’s Eve dinner party at which one of the other guests was an official of a global engineering company which will remain un-named. He spent the evening with an ostentatious black box at hand – during dinner he did get it off the table and into his lap – because of mysterious dangers that might need his immediate attention at the stroke of midnight. We followed that stroke across time zones. Our highest moments of hilarity were speculating about exactly what that black box was going to do to us all when he pushed his magic button; our engineer friend was not amused. The covid bug does make the Y2K bug seem quaint.

Photo by VisionPic .net on Pexels.com

When New Year’s 2009 arrived I was heavy into brain exercise, having become a participant in a brain health study not long before. That piece reflected on the proliferation of brain health studies – New York’s Albert Einstein College of Medicine, the University of Texas’ Center for Vital Longevity to name two – specifically targeting the aging population. The resultant general recommendation was for everyone to plunge into word games and math games and we’d all be fine. Having still never found the time to get into games of any sort, I guess my brain just continues to muddle along.

In 2010, as the year turned, I was still preoccupied with brain stuff: esoteric questions (and some more fancy studies) about the passage of time. It was a sort of “Where in the heck did ten years go?” rumination. Considering the fact that the past year has seemed at least thirty years long, this perspective also makes past issues seem quaint.

For many of the in between years I included a favorite poem, just because poetry seems a good way to start a new year. So for these troubled times I offer the first and last few verses of Ian Frazier’s priceless holiday poem “Greetings, Friends!” in the December 28 issue – back in that old year – of The New Yorker.

Friends one and all! Let us unmute,

Excite the timbrel and the lute,

Make merry with our pots and pan

(The hour is seven, so we can),

Shout from the balcony or lawn

For joy at what will soon be gone,

And praises sing for what is here:

The end to this undreamt-of year!

Frazier goes on for 70+ poignant and hilarious lines, rhyming in friends and neighbors and people we know of or wish we knew; and finally winds up thus:

Let gladness rise, despite, despite;

“Love one another” routs the night,

And kindness is a folding chair

We carry with us everywhere.

In depth of winter, prospects brighten;

Mighty streams of light will lighten

The miles ahead, and goodness reign –

Once more, the angels’ grand refrain!

Thanks, Ian Frazier, and everyone who helped us though the old year with reminders that grace and humor still abound.

Happy New Year, and welcome, 2021!

Photo by Ryutaro Tsukata on Pexels.com



This essay also appears on Medium.com

A Little Moon Worship for the New Year

Full moonMaybe 2020 could be the Year of the Moon? The moon, I think, has to have some mythological connection to peace and serenity, despite its less noble connections and the recurrent idea that man (woman, perhaps?) will one day set foot upon it. God forbid. In any event, wouldn’t it be lovely to be feeling peaceful and serene, some 300+ days from now, as we say Goodnight, Moon to 2020?

I am simply a moon freak. Moonshot clouds 1.2.20After my umpteenth Facebook posting of moon photos I happened to wonder, publicly, if there isn’t a good name for moon worshipper – which prompted friends to suggest Artemisians, or Selenians, or (not my favorite,) Lunatics. The nice thing would be that Artemisians/Selenians would be utterly inclusive, since the moon does not shine arbitrarily on just a chosen piece of planet earth. Thus it would be pretty hard for one group of earthlings to claim to be chosen by the moon over some other group.

Moonshot1 1.1.20And Lord knows we could use a few less exclusionary religions on planet earth. I admit to being a committed Christian, but I lean heavily toward interfaith collaboration. Especially when it comes to the Brahma Kumaris. Brahma Kumaris believe all religions are valid – imagine that. Plus, they have women priests, among whom a personal favorite is my California friend Sr. Chandru whose name roughly translates to Sister Moon. Selenians – I’m going with Selene, even if she had fifty daughters and that seems a bit much – would shine benevolently upon all humankind, while veering somewhat toward feminism. Masculinity would be okay in Selenianism, but only in a cuddly, non-aggressive Man-in-the-Moon sort of way. The only definitively male-type moon figure I find, after what was admittedly not a mythologically extensive research effort, would be Thoth, and do we need Thothism, for heaven’s sake?Moonshot 1.1.20

Most of the photos accompanying this paean to the moon were shot from my pillow, which happens to be aimed squarely at a 7th floor west-facing window (or from that window itself.) It has featured, of late, a progression of such beautiful interactions between moon, clouds and the ever-lit urban landscape below as to make reading myself to sleep virtually impossible without regular interruptions to take iPhotos. In other seasons, when it’s full and on the wane, the moon will suddenly appear in all its glory at about 4 AM or so, shining into the bedroom as if demanding to be appreciated.

The thing about moon appreciation is that it requires absolutely no energy or profound thought; it bears no political implications, and it is immediately reciprocated with nothing but more beauty. Lest you think this movement leaves something to be desired during the non-moonlit hours, serious Selenians tend to be also cloud appreciators. Seriously. I happen to be member #45,662  of the international Cloud Appreciation Society; check it out.

Moon & cloudsSo, back to the proposed Year of the Moon. Over the year just past there have been floods and fires and hurricanes and tornadoes, all at least partially related to the actions of us earthlings. And endless wars and bad stuff. But if you discount the newspaper’s front page (all known Selenians read print newspapers) there has also been much to appreciate (see ‘Happy Old Year from Mother Nature’ on this very page.)

The Year of the Moon, should we Selenians prevail, will feature even more to appreciate. Feel free to pick your own appreciation for the year: a good harvest; an electoral victory; yellow tulips; economic strength; peace and serenity; disappearance of (fill in your own blank;) good health; universal healthcare; early rainfall. We will plan to check in this time next year, to see how well it’s gone.

Season’s Greetings — & New Year’s Hopes

Christmas letter w bowHoliday letters? I am definitely ambivalent. It is lovely catching up with old friends (many of whom, on our holiday list at least, I only hear from once a year.) I’m interested in what’s been happening in their lives over the past year. I’m somewhat less interested in what’s been happening in their children’s or grandchildren’s lives although they’re usually pretty spectacular. But too many paragraphs about the latter and my eyes tend to glaze over. I resist all political messages – whether I agree with them or not. I love the letters that include remarks about books the writer has enjoyed over the year.

This year my own greeting was a learning experience.

I send holiday letters for the reason given at the outset of ours for 2018: Having reached the point at which we figure we’d better keep in touch or somebody will say, Are Fran & Bud still around? . . .   And sometimes I break my own preference rules as happens at the end of this year’s letter from our house: Without getting overly political, we worry about the future of the ever-warming planet, and this being Christmastime we yearn for the day when our country will welcome the stranger, protect the poor, care for those less fortunate, all those things Jesus talked about.Interfaith symbols

Because many of our year-end missiles go to friends who are Jewish (not to mention agnostic, Buddhist, atheist, you name it) I usually include an expansion of some sort when I detour into my own strong Christian faith. This year, searching for accuracy, I mentioned to my pastor friend that I knew there was something very similar to that last line in the Jewish tradition. “Sure,” she said, “Tikkun Olam.” Ah, so. While Christians celebrate a Messiah who preached all those things not being done very effectively right now, Jews seek to prepare the world for a coming Messiah – by welcoming the stranger, protecting the poor, caring for those less fortunate. “Repairing the world,” is how my pastor friend put it, and she is best buddies with a nearby rabbi and both of them know stuff. So if I don’t have this theologically right, I will be happy to forward your comments to them.

In any event, it is worth considering. Perhaps as we emerge from the darkest days (I’m talking Solstice here) we may still welcome a stranger, try to help someone less fortunate, repair the world. Worth a try.Books

Oh, and books. On Dupont Circle: Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt and the Progressives Who Shaped Our World (James Srodes) somehow gave me hope for years ahead, and After Emily: Two Remarkable Women and the Legacy of America’s Greatest Poet (Julie Dobrow) is fascinating. All the Light We Cannot See (Anthony Doerr) is a treasure.

Happy New Year to us all.

New Year SF

 

 

Kindness for the New Year – Why not?

About that cup of kindness – –

Let’s take a cup for a few of the auld lang synes of 2017, in the highest hopes for this brand new year.

Planet earthA cup for the planet. Despite the best efforts of the Environmental Destruction Agency to foul the air and water, and similar efforts to open up our lands for desecration and private development, this fragile globe survives. You can Google “Good news for the planet” to boost your spirits. Here’s a toast to everyone who switches to solar, picks up litter, and pays attention to ways we can protect our grandchildren’s heritage.

A cup for women! Beginning with the inspirational Women’s March and marching through to the #MeToo movement, women have earned more than a little kindness yet. They won’t get much of it in the reproductive justice realm. You cannot confer rights on a fetus without denying rights of the woman carrying it.march - crowd Anti-abortion forces sneaked wording about rights of “the unborn” into the harsh new tax bill, so chalk one up for regression into the dark ages of womankind. But here’s a cup o’ kindness toast to every #MeToo, as well as to heroes like Willie Parker out there fighting to protect all women.

A cup for people of all faiths working together. There may be constant headlines, not to mention tweets, designed to set us against each other, but interfaith groups across the country are determined to keep respect and mutual support alive. Google “Interfaith work” in your city or state and find how many kindnesses are underway.

A cup for the hopeless. Remember those huddled masses yearning to breathe free? They’re still out there, in force: refugees and asylum-seekers, people mired in poverty or joblessness, sick children without healthcare, undocumented immigrants in families being torn apart. ENDURING FREEDOMBut if our government is turning its back on them, a multitude of individuals and organizations are working around the clock to get the lamp lifted again. Google “Help undocumented immigrants,” or “Fighting poverty in my community” for starters. Cups of kindness abound.

And a cup of kindness for kindness’ sake. A group of people with vastly diverse backgrounds and philosophies met just after New Year’s Day to talk about how to retain optimism – hope, at least – on all of the above in the face of current divisiveness and a mentally unbalanced president. Said one member of the group: “It helps to commit conscious acts of kindness throughout the day. Might be just a tiny thing, but it makes you feel better, and kindness can be contagious.” Pope Francis thinks so. In his New Year’s Eve homily he expressed optimism about ordinary people going about their lives doing ordinary acts of kindness. The “artisans of the common good,” he called them. So here’s a toast to every artisan of the common good. May we all join their ranks this year.

Footprints of kindness