I care, and then I turn away.
I get busy, or I lose interest,
or the crisis stops affecting me directly or never did,
and I let my attention slip away.

I’m being honest, but I’m not glad about it,
because what I really want is to keep my heart open,
and keep my attention focused on whoever I can support.

Not by losing myself or getting overwhelmed
or letting my own wellbeing slip,
but by creating enough space in my heart and mind to remember
that caring for others and caring for myself
are not different, not separate.

I feel like I spend a lot of time – too much time –
thinking I understand.
Maybe we all do, even when we know
everyone’s understandings are different.

At the same time I think most of us know
there’s a lot we can’t see.
It feels helpful to keep that in mind,
and to keep an open, “don’t know” mind,
and be learning and surprised by each moment.

Because even when the surprises aren’t good,
at least we know that any moment now,
there’ll be a new moment,
or a new perspective, or a new way of seeing,
or a new message, or even a new messenger.

We could say that,
depending on our political beliefs,
beliefs about climate emergency,
relationships to inequity,
inner and outer resources,
and what comes our way,
our 2025 theme –
the quality of heart and mind
we’ll be working with and cultivating -
is a forgone conclusion.

But what if we don’t say that?
What if we chose our theme,
intentionally and regardless?
Decide that this year our theme will be
patience, for example,
or connection, or enough-ness?

What if each of us takes some time,
and some breaths,
and looks inside at whatever it is that we value,
and want to work with, and work on,
and then chooses that as our theme for the new year,
no matter what comes our way?