I’ve been trying to think of something meaningful to say as 2023 comes to an end. As I’ve written many times before, I love New Year’s. Not just the trappings of the holiday: the countdown and the song “Auld Lang Syne” and bubbly cheers with friends, which I do, to be clear, love.

But also the promise of a clean slate, so to speak, although - nearing 46 years old - I get that it isn’t really “clear,” that you shouldn’t wait for the new year to make your resolutions, and everything else everyone is constantly saying to remind us all to be present, to make the most of every moment. I understand this life is a continuum. And I love the ceremony nonetheless. And I love the resolutions nonetheless. And I am going to make them!

Not yet, though. Right now is an enjoyable lull and you sort of have to work to keep it that way. We are down by the Chesapeake Bay visiting my family, witnessing some spectacular sunrises, getting plenty of fresh air, reconnecting with old friends. And I could rhapsodize for paragraphs and paragraphs. I’ve never had any problem saying, agreeing to, writing more. The skill is sometimes in executing a decisive brevity. In taking a true rest, taking your hands off the keyboard and saying: good enough, there’s plenty of time ahead. That is good enough for now.

See you in 2024!