It’s 2023! Happy New Year from your friendly neighborhood Buddhist socialist. I wish you good fortune and the best health throughout this coming year.
For better or worse, 2022 has been an incredibly volatile year for me. I started it in a very bad place; at a moment where I felt deeply and deservingly alone, and where my life was so monotonous as to be unbearable. Thankfully, I managed to claw my way out with the help of some excellent friends. In the process, I ascended to heights I didn’t know I was capable of. Although I’m still falling into and digging my way out of plenty of holes, I’m happy to report that, in sum, I ended 2022 in a much better place than when I started. I’d like to think I’ve developed as a person, organizer, and friend (although I suppose I’m not the proper judge of that).
I went to my first meditation retreat, where I undertook the Five Mindfulness Trainings, receiving my Dharma name and formally ordaining as a lay member of the Plum Village Tradition. I finally chose to take meditation and other mindfulness practices seriously. I started writing again, launching this Substack and pumping out more poetry than anyone would ever like to read. Just yesterday, I received my first acceptance for publication in a poetry magazine in over five years! (Yes, I haven’t been published since I was 17; we don’t have to dwell on that.)
I traveled more, visited friends in other cities. I started working out again. I renewed my interest in camping and the outdoors. I reenergized my commitment to DSA both through my new chapter and through work on the national level, mainly with the Religion and Socialism Working Group and the DSA Buddhist Circle, which I am so grateful to be a part of every day. I’m so proud of the work we have done through the trainings and teach-ins we have hosted, coordinated, and attended over the past year. I got a very sharp, if very loving, cat named Tomato Soup (Soup for short).
Finally, I started law school in a whole new city in a whole new state, and handled it better than I thought I would. I met a whole new cast of wonderful friends in the process, one of whom I fell in love with. How I pulled off that trick, I have no idea; please don’t ask me to do it again. But I’m sure as hell glad I did it.
To prove both that I’ve been spending time outside and that I have friends (contrary to popular belief), here are some pictures we took when we went out to the Hocking Hills late last fall:
In the summer of 2020, when the world seemed to be ending, I decided it was finally time to start being the person I always wanted to be. And here, two and a half years in, I think my work is finally starting to pay off. Although there’s still plenty of progress left to be made. I don’t think this project of mine is any nearer than 5% to completion. But I choose to look at that as something to relish; a challenge to enjoy.
That isn’t to say there haven’t been missteps. I assure you there have been plenty. I’m still failing to adhere to a regular schedule for chanting and meditation, and I miss sangha as often as I make it. Punctuality and consistency have never been strong-suits of mine, or really any level of suit; that’s something I must address. I haven’t written back to my prison pen pal since I started law school, which I feel terribly guilty about. There just always seemed to be something else that needed doing these past few months. I’ve made myself swear that I’ll send them a letter before winter break ends. And, I’m sad to admit, I’m drinking more and more often now than I have since my first two years of undergrad, when I was my least favorite version of myself. Call it law school, I guess. I need to do something about that soon—for the sake of my spirit, my relationships, and my gut.
One skill that I would like to cultivate more over 2023 is appreciation. Because I do really think it’s a skill to be able to appreciate something, or someone. Especially if you want to appreciate it or them to the fullest extent it deserves, or they deserve. Appreciation is much more difficult than it seems, and we do much less of it than we realize. I think this is because in order to appreciate something, we have to admit to ourselves how different our lives would be without it, which rubs against the way we have been taught to over-value independence and self-sufficiency. To appreciate something fully requires humility; an admission that our selfhood is dependent on forces outside of us—many of whom we could never hope to control.
That’s why I think my capacity for appreciation has steadily improved as I have started taking my Buddhism seriously. I’m finally learning how to appreciate the elements of my life—whether they be friends, family, experiences, or ideologies. To understand that I would be nothing without these things, which all arised independently of me, and to whom all my successes belong. And I’m doing it (I think) in a healthy, non-attached way, which is important. Confusing attachment for appreciation is where a lot of people go wrong. It’s certainly where I went wrong all those years before. I’m excited to dive deeper into this practice and to make (what I hope will be) good progress over the next year.
I invite you to take this opportunity to reflect on your 2022. What were its heights, its depths? Where have you made progress, and is there any place where you fell behind? Can you think of one skill you would most like to cultivate over the course of 2023?
Anyway, I penned a new gatha during my travels home over winter break. I thought I would take this opportunity to share it with you. Enjoy, and once again, have a Happy New Year!
Gatha for the New Year For recitation upon the revolution of the sun. This year, May I do much learning. May I learn to hold my suffering Like a mother holds her child. In so doing, may I relieve it, Or at least learn to live with it. And if I learn to recognize The suffering within myself, Then may I also learn to recognize The suffering within others. May I help them on their journey To send suffering on its way. For there will be no more suffering Once every one of us is free. This year, may I breathe deeply. This year, may I see clearly. This year, may I know peace And bring it places it has not been.