It would be all too easy to write a January 2018 post heavy with angst and uncertainty. I could dwell on the unsettling political changes of the last year or so, both international and domestic. I could ponder what kind of world we will leave for our children and grandchildren. I could talk about challenge and sorrow within our community of writers and among my personal circle. What illustration would I select for that post? A ship foundering on a reef, with captain, crew and passengers struggling in freezing waters, and not a gallant rescuer in sight? A pallid writer in a garret, surrounded by empty gin bottles and screwed-up manuscript pages?
But no, I won’t write that particular post, and the beautiful image above is one of hope. In the winter landscape, through the mist and cold, the sun rises once again, heralding a bright new day, a day on which we deal bravely and wisely with whatever comes our way. A day on which we celebrate every small positive step and remember the transcendent power of hope.
Easy to philosophize, you say. But how do we find hope in a world gone awry? How do we draw from the creative well when the weight of things feels almost too hard to bear?
I don’t offer easy answers. I don’t offer answers at all, only possibilities. The rest is up to you.