A new year column brings with it the unspoken obligation to strike some note of optimism and renewal. It’s a tradition, like a pagan ritual, respecting the sacred pause between one year and the next, and making an offering of resolution. To acknowledge that, despite all that seems crushing and overwhelming, there is still some measure of personal freedom to be better and do better.
It is harder this year, though, than previous ones, to strike that note. The war in Ukraine continues to grind with little resolution in sight, fading into a matter of fact rather than the sharp abhorrence that it was almost two years ago. In Gaza, children continue to be buried under rubble, as do the scenes of parents bidding them unfathomable farewells. Israeli hostages and their families are still caught in the bloody melee, as all hope for their release and a ceasefire seem to become more remote.
