I’ve heard a lot of folks calling 2016 downright beastly, but don’t we always say that when we’re staring a fresh new year in the face? It’s human nature to proclaim at the end of twelve months how tired and emotionally famished we all are because it sets us up to be revitalized in short order. It also makes us feel as if we’re in control, that we can vanquish all the rotten events—even the little ones—by symbolically tearing out the page, crumpling it up, and tossing it in the roundfile.
I’m not saying 2016 was rosy. It stunk plenty to be sure. But let’s be honest, life is mostly stinky stuff. Personally, I spend a remarkable amount of my precious time battling dookie. I have pets, but I’m by no means an animal hoarder, so why do I have to be so consumed by excrement on a daily basis? Sigh. Because that’s what life is about at the end of the day, a constant collection of steaming piles and the occasional perfect fragrant bloom.