Well, here we are.
The final days of 2017.
A year of scattered events, some sorrowful, some joyous, others aggravating, absurd, or idiotic. The events that have transpired over the course of twelve months when focused on can be, for me, crippling. Between violence and mass shootings, sexual allegations, abuse, unsavory confrontations, radical racism, the Earth cooking resulting in wildlife suffering and dying off due to the irrational greed that permeates throughout politics. The headlines, at a glance, are grim. It’s been a rough year.
Though, don’t get me wrong. I acknowledge that there have been pockets of goodness sprinkled throughout the battlefield. It’s just harder to see them through the darkness that’s formed.
And it was my decision, shortly after Trump had been dubbed victorious, that I decided to try to keep distance from the news. I was struggling through one of the heaviest bouts of depression I’d experienced in 2016 during the time of this decision. It was for my best, so I thought.
But now, as I type away at the keys, I’m trying to think about the better times of 2017 and failing. All that I read about, due to the nature of how our media functions, were the negatives, the fights, the arguments, the blood-soaked grounds, the starved, the sick, the disenfranchised. It was becoming too burdensome to look beyond myself at the larger picture.
So I cut it off.
Deleted the apps. Stopped reading the headlines. Stayed a comfortable distance from social media.
Of course, during the rare family dinners I partook in, I’d hear about the local murders, the robberies.
At my job, in Federal Hill, guests would come and sit down at the bar and remove their coats. They’d take a deep breath. Look down to the menu as I poured them a glass of water.
“Can I start you off with something to drink?” I’d say.
“Did you hear about the shooting down the road?” they’d say. Or, “did you hear about the stabbing?” Or, they’d start telling me about the time that they were subjected to violence.
Perhaps it’s because I’m exposed to numerous people day after day. Perhaps not.
With each year that passes, the light seems to fade. By nature, I’m not a happy person. In my lifetime I have experience pure bliss on countless occasions; beautiful moments that you walk through time and again. But I’m not a happy person. I believe myself to be a realist, and I’m referred to as a pessimist. Perhaps the two go hand-in-hand.
Yet, despite the atrocities of 2017, and the struggles of my personal life, I intend to end the year in a moment of bliss. It’s fair for me to acknowledge that I hold little control over whether or not I will truly experience this hopeful bliss. It’s simply not something any of us can do. We can try to will it; to bend reality to our whim.
Though this is not always possible. Knowing this, I intend to take a few moments to myself and remember the beautiful times I’ve experienced, and shared, during 2017. Like that time I left my comfort zone to go out with classmates. Like that time I walked through the rows and rows of bookstands at AWP, feeling a sense of finally belonging.
Like that time I stood atop a mountain in Iceland or swam in a hot spring—which wasn’t hot—or watched locals sing 80’s American pop music in the basement of a bar. Like the time I took a chance with a close friend and found warmth in another individual. Like that time, and many other times I’ll carry with me.
And when that crystalline ball begins to fall, I’ll propose a toast to my family. I’ll tell them that I love them, for it is something I don’t express enough. I’ll move into the new year laughing and smiling, in a clean, well-lit room filled with familiar faces. It’ll be a simple evening of simple pleasures, and that’ll be more than enough.
