Many years, I have numerous resolutions. Lose weight, be more disciplined, write more. Always turn aside for the chinchilla races. This year, I have but three, all related to each other.
I want to be more kind.
I want to say thank you more. I want to tip the barista more. I want to tell the waiter to tell the chef that the meal was wonderful more. I want to let people cut in front of me in traffic more.
I want to extend charity to my fellow humans more.
This does not mean that I turn a blind eye to homophobia or misogyny or racism, or fail to call them out when they happen. It may mean, however, that I do not view the espousers of such evil as being irredeemable. In the Good Friday liturgy of the Episcopal church, we pray “for those who in the name of Christ have persecuted others…. That God will open their hearts to the truth, and lead them to
faith and obedience.” That is a pretty good prayer.
I want to let go of hatred.
Anger is not hatred. Anger is an appropriate response to evil things. Hatred is corrosive; it is eating me from the inside out.
Those are my resolutions, and I hope for my own peace of mind I can keep them.