Things Can Only Get Better (or Worse) in 2021
Balancing gratefulness and hope in a crisis
In the good old days of early December, when we were allowed to meet more than one person outside, I went for a walk with my family, choosing a route that turned out to be a bit squelchy underfoot. Returning through the same field later, my mum suggested we try a slightly different path, saying “it can’t be any worse.” It was, of course, much worse, and before long we were forced to turn back, wishing we’d worn our wellies.
This was just one of many muddy dead-ends I’ve encountered on my lockdown walks; aptly mirroring the trajectory of global and personal events of recent times, which (as well as highlighting the importance of adequate PPE) have repeatedly defied the suggestion that ‘things can only get better’. This same adage was scribbled inside a number of Christmas cards I received this year; a reassuring confirmation that my circle of friends is resilient and optimistic, but a message I hardly dare let myself believe as I look forward to the new year.
We do, of course, have good reasons to be hopeful that the most immediate crises of the moment will improve in 2021. The rollout of Covid-19 vaccinations and the end of the Trump presidency are both hugely significant. Personally, I’m looking forward to celebrating a year of being in remission from cancer, and to building on some of the new professional skills and relationships that lockdown and shielding have unexpectedly presented.
But I’m hesitant about making plans that depend on things getting better in the near future, when so much is still uncertain. A best case scenario is that restrictions will ease sometime this year and I’ll feel safe resuming a few ‘normal’ activities. There are countless other plausible scenarios in which, for reasons entirely out of my control, this doesn’t happen. I’ve written in the past about why I don’t really like goal-setting, and this year more than ever I feel resistant to the idea of traditional new year’s resolutions that can so easily be thwarted by the universe saying no.
It’s important to note that the people who wrote ‘next year can only be better than this year’ in their Christmas cards aren’t generally complainers. On the contrary, we’re pretty much all agreed that 2020 was a s***show, and the cheeriest people are the ones who choose to focus on better things to come. They’re people who’ve tended to count their blessings during the worst times of the pandemic, recognising (ironically) that things could have been worse. Herein lies the fallacy that troubles my inner logician: to be grateful, we must contemplate worse things, and yet we find hope in the notion that we’re surely at rock bottom.
The truth, of course, is that both gratefulness and optimism are relative to precedent and expectation; we’re happiest when we find a balance between the two. Only then can we be both satisfied with our lot and motivated to keep on improving things for ourselves and others. If 2020 has taught me anything is that’s adaptability is key to this. We cannot know what the world will throw at us in 2021, but it might be a good idea to have wellies at the ready.
