At the start of last year, I was optimistic. After the hell of 2020, there seemed to be a break in the clouds. Yes, the world was still on lockdown and the virus was still raging, but now we had a vaccine. Science was going to save us. It seemed like it was just a question of time before we removed our masks, got on a flight, saw each other, hugged each other, played with each other, held each other. I had predicted a maskless summer. And all of this did come to pass. For a time, anyway.
Hell, of course, had other plans. It teased us with a little bit of freedom and then it mutated and tightened its grip. For many reasons, 2021 was a darker year for me than 2020. I doubt I’m alone in this. It was so dark that it felt like my most precious dreams were pushed so way out of reach that they became impossible.
But in the last few days, I’ve reminded myself of a few things. In my experience, passing through hell has often meant emerging into heaven. More than one person of great achievement has declared that “impossible” is an opinion, not a fact—and all of those people endured great suffering. The chains constraining us and our imagination are often fabrications of that very same imagination. None of us know enough to know what’s impossible. And sometimes, it is when our dreams seem most out of reach that they are nearest. We just need to look and see. Science is not going to save us. We are going to save ourselves with open eyes, open minds and open hearts.
That which seems impossible cannot possibly be so. Existence, itself, is a testament to this. Heaven has better plans.
So here’s to 2022. May we all escape the chains of hell and emerge into the freedom and lightness of heaven.
Happy New Year!