Look Both Ways Before You Start the Year.

Most of us will find ourselves this month looking, like its namesake, Janus, both backwards and forwards. Television shows will highlight the successes and failures of the year; we shall ponder our own highs and lows and as we make resolutions or start filling our pristine diaries, planning or simply hoping for a better future.

2021 was definitely a strange year and the temptation is to see it as one of endless lock-downs, disasters and civil unrest. From a news point of view, it certainly was. From a personal vantage point, it was something else entirely.

Reasons to be thankful

Last year, having received an additional wall calendar, I decided to dedicate it as a gratitude diary. Each day, I would fill in one event or experience that brought me joy. With only a couple of exceptions, I managed to complete something for every entry. I took as my guide Alice Earle’s wise saying that: Every day may not be good, but there is good in every day.

My gratitude diary
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Most of my entries were hardly newsworthy: a coffee with a friend, a trip to a nearby beauty spot, or an act of kindness. Yet, these are the stuff of life. Looking back over the year, I saw that it was filled with moments of joy amidst all the stress and restrictions. It was a good year.

Sustaining hope

For me, knowing that happiness can be found in the most challenging of circumstances gives me not only solace but hope. We need to feed our souls with a belief in the goodness of others and the possibility of positive outcomes, otherwise we will shrivel into despair. The world has never been just nor easy. The most cursory look at history tells us that. Yet it is still a wonderful place. Like Janus again, we can find balance by looking at it both ways and centre ourselves somewhere in the middle. By developing the practice of gratitude, we give ourselves the best defence against life’s ‘slings and arrows’.

This year, I received two wonderful calendars again and I knew exactly what to do with the second. And when this year ends, I shall look forward to reading its entries.

Moominmamma would approve
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat

Looking forward

Two years ago, when I pondered what 2020 might bring, I did so with great optimism. By February, my diary was packed with planned visits from friends and family, a literary festival in Oxford and my own family’s reunion in the US. Of course, none of those things came to pass. This year, I am a little more circumspect.

And this is the problem with trying to guess the future. We often over-estimate how good or bad it is and forget to focus on the only time that actually counts, which is now.

A cause for celebration Image: Artturi Jalli on Unsplash

Perhaps we should be grateful to our current circumstances for reminding us of this. We literally cannot make plans only tentative goals. Whatever we schedule, we must be willing to change or rearrange or even cancel. This is hard. No-one wishes to be reminded of how slender a grasp one has on one’s life and those prone to be more controlling (as I confess I used to be) find this the hardest of all. We rant, we rage and some even throw tantrums – but it hardly changes anything.

But if we can embrace the current uncertainty as a metaphor for all of life, we can start to enjoy everything that it offers regardless of whether it meets our expectations or not. Of course, we need to make provisional plans for reunions and holidays, but we need not rely on them being fulfilled. There is a place for hope but not, I think, for expectation.

Exchanging expectation for hope

When we expect things to happen: our parcel to arrive the next day, our future vacation to be a success and our plans to go without a hitch, we are tempting fate. We are also likely to be sorely disappointed when things go awry, feeling somehow cheated of our ‘promised joy’.

If, however, we take the more humble approach of simply hoping for a good outcome, our disappointment is likely to be less keen and our ability to recover greater. Hope is a robust thing, as noted in Emily Dickinson’s wonderful poem: ‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers – (314)

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.

Hope is not demanding. It simply continues through times of promise and adversity and ‘never stops – at all -‘ whereas thwarted expectation often ends right there with its accompanying misery.

So, let us hope this new year brings us all that our hearts yearn for, but should it not fulfil our desires, let us remember, with gratitude, all that it has provided.