Personally, this is too heavy a year to recapitulate. At the beginning of 2020, I sat at a table surrounded by people reciting their intentions for the coming year. What came was grief, debilitation, and isolation at a scale nobody comprehended, and I am pretty sure all of this will spill over to the coming year. I apologize for not writing about hope. I do not feel hopeful about anything right now (my father is gone, and he continues to be). But there is something to be said about time, endings, beginnings, and the daily hum of days that takes us along. This newsletter will be dedicated to all those things.
reflections, intentions
reflections, intentions
reflections, intentions
Personally, this is too heavy a year to recapitulate. At the beginning of 2020, I sat at a table surrounded by people reciting their intentions for the coming year. What came was grief, debilitation, and isolation at a scale nobody comprehended, and I am pretty sure all of this will spill over to the coming year. I apologize for not writing about hope. I do not feel hopeful about anything right now (my father is gone, and he continues to be). But there is something to be said about time, endings, beginnings, and the daily hum of days that takes us along. This newsletter will be dedicated to all those things.