Sit down. Pull up a chair. Sun’s setting on the last day of the year. It’s not so much a redness as a distant and early haze. Let’s get to it.
This year you moved into a little house on a little street, with a little lawn you don’t mow quite often enough. You moped and flailed and tried to be helpful during a harrowing. Two people entered, and three people left. That’s really all that happened this year, isn’t it? Took all your time and treasure and then some. You looked into your boy’s beautiful tiny eyes and knew it was time to move on from things that’d become ineffective. He gave you courage. You took a breath, and went back to work. When he was two weeks old, you wrote some notes called “Walking with Milo“. Joke is: he’s gonna be actually, literally walking super imminently. You tried to do good work for good people in effective organizations. To use software to help solve problems, as indulgent and arcanely (second-millenium-style) optimistic as that sounds. You tried to be kind to your family, and to not forget your friends. You did alright. There’s room for improvement, so improve.
But first: sun’s almost gone. Go hold your sweet heart and your sweet light and welcome the new year, in darkness but in warmth.