I don’t know about you, but this is by far my least favorite time of year. It really starts around Thanksgiving, but this stretch between Christmas and New Year’s Day is particularly brutal — and it’s not just because I spent the first 48 years of my life in Southern California and still haven’t gotten used to the cold of the East Coast, but yes that. And it’s not just that I’ve lost both of my parents and Christmas has never been quite the same, but that’s part of it too. It’s more that I find it extraordinarily difficult just to be present. I feel caught between looking back on the previous 12 months and looking ahead to what I would like to do differently (or better) in the year ahead (but in all likelihood won’t, at least not to the degree that I tend to expect from myself). I suspect that I’m not alone in at least some of this. When I shared this with a friend, they responded, “Yeah, I feel the same way. But also the feeling and fear of the inevitable sameness as the previous year(s).”

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