I’ve restarted writing this letter so many times. It has become quite the tradition to write to you and I fear that I have forgotten the art of letter writing. The last time I sat down to write one was to 2016 this time last year so please excuse me whilst I ease back in.
2017, you have become quite popular. The world is putting a lot of expectation onto you. You see 2016 was a tough year for us. Loved ones were lost, it was the first time that I have ever experienced personal grief in such a vicious way. Countries are at war, families have been torn apart and the ice is melting forever. People look to you to fix these things and this makes me scared. It makes me scared because people still haven’t realised that it isn’t your job to fix these things. You are just a number that marks the passing of our time here. My biggest hope for you is that people wipe the sleep from their eyes and wake up to realise that it is their job. Our job. It is people that made 2016 an awful year- people killing people, people hurting each other, people destroying the only planet that we know how to live on. Yet still we sit here, blaming a number, shaking our fists at you for the things that we have done. So I begin this letter by apologising to 2016. You tried your best. You brought us a fresh chance to stand up for what counts, to right our wrongs, to find kindness but instead we took the easy way out. We sat, we complained, we did nothing.
I hope that I am a better and braver person this year 2017. I hope that we all grow a bit, and then grow a bit more, and keep growing until there are no more of your days left for us. But until then I want to use my time, I want to use your days and I want to see them with my eyes wide open. I want to share them with people I love as well as complete strangers and I want to squeeze every last drop of joy out of them. I hope that you do not mind.
So bring it on 2017.
I am so very ready for you.