We have reached the end of January and are inching closer to the anniversary of the End of the Old Way. I know many people kind of hate January by the time the 31st rolls around, maybe this year more than usual. I don’t know if I’ve felt that way in the past, but I’m giving the first month of 2021 a passing grade. I’ve reached the end feeling a little exhausted and battered by some of what we saw, but my optimism for the year is intact.
Obviously, January 6 was a low point. I’ve written down some of my thoughts about that day, but for the time being I’m sitting with them alone. As someone who felt more at home in DC than anywhere else life has taken me, I felt a personal loss knowing what this would mean for the city. As a citizen who has long beheld the American experiment with pride and reverence, I felt devastated and humiliated and perhaps a bit foolish for believing in the grandeur of our vision. The pain and grief and confusion on display that day seemed both inevitable and impossible, and I remain unsure what to do with it, as an individual or as a citizen or as a tiny part of the mixed-up multitude that is the United States, a country I truly love despite its flaws and ugliness.
On the other hand, the relief I felt on Inauguration Day was so welcome. I am grateful for the sense of hope the day brought, and the peace that we knew not to take for granted. It was special to watch the country turn the page of history as Harris was sworn in. I appreciate the tone President Biden set. For a day or two before inauguration, I felt an increasing lightness as tension left my body. It feels dramatic to say that, but the weight of the last four years was heavy for many of us.
Around and in between these big events, life continued. I increased my mileage running. I made time for the playground and facilitated at-home learning and got some good work done. We celebrated a birthday. We played games and built towers and raced cars and watched for the trash trucks. It rained too much, and that was annoying—but then there was an odd stretch of heat and we went to the pool. We’re still missing out on “normal” things: activities and playdates and birthday parties and offices and normal school. Yet, we have it pretty good and we do a decent job of remembering that much of the time.
I read some great books this month. I have so much to say about Jesus and John Wayne at some point. I’m still processing, but I recognized so much in those pages and felt a great sense of healing, which was unexpected. Piranesi was enchanting and beautiful and serious, and I have suggested that my husband read it and while I envy that he is only starting it now, I am eager to discuss it with anyone so I hope he will hurry. Less was fun and interesting and satisfying, and it made me want to travel the world that much more.
Other things I’ve learned in January:
I think I have reached the age when I have to drink less coffee or I risk getting jittery and irritable. This is a sad development, but a good time to remember that I also really like tea.
Writing requires more time alone and focused than I have in abundance right now, but that does not mean I should just stop writing. Any little steps are better than standing still.
Things can happen quickly. In the last year, I have been thinking a lot about my values and how they align to where I spend time and effort beyond work and family. This month, two opportunities for contribution have solidified, and it feels like progress toward rounding out my life in this way.
Running is a lifeline for me, especially when we all are otherwise staying home. Cold weather running can be particularly refreshing.
Facetime with friends is worth it, even though it’s a pretty sorry substitute for the real deal. It is worth making time to do it more frequently.
Hope Runs On 