2021

Preface

I wrote my first draft of this missive in the middle of the night before the calendar flipped over to 2021. I added the second part a few days ago. As I write now, on January 7, it seems silly to continue this project. But I suppose I have as much a right to frame my year as anyone else. Before getting to the bits of what I originally wrote that still remain, let me say that one of my goals this year is to learn more about mutual aid, especially how to do it meaningfully and well.

The Body

2021 marks my third year doing one of these posts on Medium, and at least my 2nd year writing a draft of it at midnight because I can’t sleep.

In previous years, in reflecting on the coming of the new year, I have turned to bald optimism to counteract the things that fuel my persistent nightmares and anxiety.

During this 2020/2021 cusp it feels wrong to turn toward optimism. Maybe I should revisit Lauren Berlant. Probably not. At least not at midnight on Christmas Eve.

The only other tone I have then is defiant tenacity. Which in my writing I think comes across a bit like bald optimism anyway.

In a journal I might catalogue all of the things that I have to look forward to in the new year. That list would look different now, and I would hold my breath at the thought of trying to claim anything.

What I will say before I go any further is this: Don’t hold what you did or didn’t do in 2020 against yourself. Don’t feel like in 2021 you have to “catch up.” Your worth is inherent. It doesn’t come from what you have done, can do, or will do.

For me 2020 has been a year of crying. Because of, well, you know, all of the things. I didn’t use to be much of a crier, and I’m thankful that that’s changing. It’s ok to cry. It’s ok to emote. If you’re looking for a pro-crying anthem, check out “Crying Is Cool” by The Sonder Bombs. They never disappoint.

Last year I wrote:

“If you’re like me, the nightmares and the thoughts of the nightmares are as unbearable as the thought of tomorrow which is as unbearable as trying to imagine that there won’t be a tomorrow. If you’re like me, if you’ve ever been stuck in an existential tailspin, don’t shut the world out. It’s scary and you’re scared for it? That’s completely understandable. I’m terrified! We aren’t alone. And the fun thing about writing this at midnight is that I know that there’s a tomorrow.”

What can I say about existential tailspins going into 2021? I refuse to offer anything empty or half-hearted. Instead I’ll simply say that when you face your existential tailspins, you aren’t alone. No matter the way the world and the night makes you feel alone. You aren’t alone. This isn’t High School Musical, I can’t claim that we’re all in this together, though I long for stronger and more clear signs and shows of community. Instead, I simply mean that there are others who feel like you do. And I hope that you find those people who sympathize and empathize with how you feel. I hope you find those people who will take your midnight call and your midnight text, and I hope you call them and I hope you message them.

On 2nd thought…

2021 will mark 10 years since I graduated high school. Is it inevitable that we will think about what we’ve done with our time? We’re told to live our lives without regret. I don’t know if that’s possible. Where did ten years of my life go? Did I spend them in the best ways that I could? What would I change? Ultimately, I wouldn’t change anything. I wouldn’t risk the good things in my life to make up time. I’ll spare you, dear reader, from an itemized list of my accomplishments. I’ll save those for the journal.

One of my favorite, and most needed, affirmations is this: You still have time. There’s still time. You still have plenty of time.

Time for: accomplishing that goal. Learning that new skill. Reading lazily. Watching your favorite shows. Watching your friends favorite shows. Going on walks… Damn, Vizzini influences the writing again! But it’s true, there’s still time. You still have time. There is no such thing as wasting time, or spending time. It isn’t a resource. We will unlearn capitalism. Simply, we move through time, and it moves through us. All we can hope is not to deny ourselves. Not to deny ourselves our joy. Not to deny ourselves our pain.

Because one day we’re going to look back over ten year swathes of our lives, and we’re going to grasp to remember the smaller moments. We’re going to wish to remember each and every sunset we ever saw, ever moon we ever awed at, every moment that someone held us and our hearts raced at their touch or we felt safe and warm. Here’s another affirmation: you did enjoy those moments enough when they were happening. And there will be more moments like that in the future.

That’s what I have to offer as we move into 2021. I’ll leave you with another song.