New Year's Day 2025: A Letter to My Friends

Encouragement For The Year Ahead

“And in the end, we were all just humans…drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.” — F. Scott Fitzgerald

Welcome to 2025, my friend.

Let me be among the first to tell you that I’m sorry. We both know it’s going to be another crazy year.

I’m sorry for the stressful moments that will invade your days uninvited, those sudden spikes of anxious thought that will assault your heart every time some new act of tomfoolery pushes us one step closer to oblivion. I’m sorry, too, for that other kind of stress, which I find worse by far: that relentless background radiation of never quite feeling safe, never quite knowing when or from where the next storm of chaos will strike.

For me, it’s that latter stress I struggle with most. It threatens to drain all the color out of my days. It coats everything in an anxious veneer, like we’re all actors on a stage in a play that got a bomb threat just before we went on. I’ve hardly had a morning in the last five years when I haven’t awakened feeling anxious and not knowing why. But then I remember of course this is why.

It’s too much, I know. The human heart was never meant to carry all that. Not every day. Certainly not every hour. Our newsfeeds are toxic IV drips for the human psyche. We are literally shooting our systems full of adrenaline and cortisol twenty-four seven. We’re stressing ourselves to death, one reel at a time.

I used to believe I could manage the world. But as the madness has increased year after year, along with the frequency of my panic attacks, I eventually had to admit to myself that all of that was just hubris.

I cannot manage the world. Neither can you.

The good news in all that, of course, is that neither of us was meant to.

I hope you’ll tend your soul with care this year. Be sparse with how much of the world’s madness you let get in. That light of joy and laughter and love in your heart is the hope of the world. I know in days like these your heart can feel like a weak, frail thing: a candle flame exposed in the cold night of a winter storm. But the rest of us, we need that light in you more than anything right now. We need you to protect it, to nurture it, to keep it safe, to let it shine. That light is our beacon on the hill reminding us why we live. It is our torch in the darkness lighting the way out of this mess.

“There’s good in this world, Mr. Frodo,” said Sam. “And it is worth fighting for.”

That light in your soul is the good in the world. It is the thing worth fighting for.

So when the madness flails, and it will flail, I hope you’ll draw into your sacred spaces and remind yourself who you really are. Set guardians at the gates of your heart and allow no entry to the social contagions that sweep the masses up in frenzied waves of panic and outrage. Become a student of peace and love — first in yourself; then, as grace allows, out in the world. If you do take action, however, I encourage you to keep it as quiet as you can — no bold proclamations or grand displays. Start close in, with a neighbor or a friend whose path has wildly diverged from the one you once walked together. Such quiet love acts like yeast in the dough. The world may never see such acts of love, but they are active and alive. They get into the mix of our societal dough, quietly causing everything to rise. It doesn’t take much to change the whole loaf.

Stay close to your practices this year, whatever they are — drawing, writing, meditation, prayer. Take good care of your body, and listen to its wisdom. Your body never lies. That’s a rare treasure in times like these. Don’t waste it.

Stay close to your friends as well — trustworthy souls who know your true name. Beware of echo chambers, however. They only serve to dull your mind, and calcify your heart. Where we are going, you’ll need every last shred of your wits and compassion. Never sacrifice them for the sake of short term comfort or convenience, or the false salve of ego affirmations.

Most of all, I encourage you to train your eyes this year to always be looking for Beauty, for Joy, for Wonder, and for Love. It is a true saying that we humans inevitably become like whatever we fix our gaze upon. As in previous years, many in the year ahead will fix their eyes on fear or outrage or hate for whoever the enemy of the moment happens to be. But those of us who know the truth — that darkness can never drive out darkness, that only light can do that — we must choose a different path.

We must fix our eyes on the light.

So, my friend, follow the path that brings you joy. Seek out all that is beautiful in the world, and when you find it, lift it up for all to see. Let it draw you in to that blissful state of childlike wonder that always leads to gratitude. Practice love with all people in all situations at all times. Choose love as an act of defiance against the madness, and an inoculant against bitterness in your own heart. Offer love as medicine to the souls around you sick with fear.

But, in all of this, do not take the burden up. It is not your job to repair the world. You are only responsible for the light of the single, precious soul that you’ve been given. Carry that well, with love and joy and lightness and laughter, and that will be quite enough.

Besides, who knows? You may, without ever realizing it, lighten the burden for more than a few other hearts along the way.

Happy New Year, and Godspeed,

Michael

“The Sojourner” journal is completely homegrown and reader-supported. If you enjoy the content, I’d appreciate you sharing it with your friends and family. And, if you’re not already, consider becoming a paid subscriber. I appreciate every one of you who follows my life and work. Thank You.