I’m stealing my theme for 2026 from The Mountain Goats: “I’m gonna make it through this year if it kills me.“
I’ve been trying to get healthier for a while now, and just this week, as winter is at its metaphorical and actual darkest, I hit a goal I thought was unthinkable – I’ve lost 100 pounds. I’m now smaller (I have cheekbones?) than I’ve been in over twenty years, and I’m not done. I have more work to do, but that work doesn’t include worrying about my beard.
In 2026, inspired by Joshua Idehen, I’m embracing my cringe. I’ve been thinking about this a lot since I turned 50 last year, and the song behind that link does a great job of summing it up. I’m now “out of the zeitgeist’s eye” for the most part, and I think the world at large still feels like inducing cringe is somehow wrong but, as a dad, it’s kind of my superpower? So, I’m declaring 2026 my year of cringe.
In 2026, I will wear what I want. I will listen to what I want. I will let my beard and my hair go feral. I embrace my hairy troll ear and my weird music. I will learn to knit if I want (and I do). I will share the things that I’m excited about, and if they excite you too, awesome! If they don’t, that’s fine. What are you excited about? Let’s talk about them.
In 2026, I will let the love in my heart go wild and flow in whatever direction it wants.
In 2026, I will read books made out of paper, from bookshelves in my house.
In 2026, my blog is here for me and I’ll post if I want, won’t feel guilty if I don’t, won’t edit before I post, and it’ll just have to do. Fuck it.
In 2026, I will be open about how difficult it is to be a “productive” member of society in all the bullshit ways we define this while the world burns around us (and people are actively setting fires).
In 2026, I’m moving to more eccentric services, embracing more open source, doubling down on the Fediverse and going to explore creating more of my own software. If that doesn’t make any sense to you, that’s OK!
And now, to you, whoever you are, in the already dreadful year 2026…
I love you, child, whoever you belong to, I do.
I wish you all the happiness in the world.
I hope you know you are loved, even if we’ve never met.
I don’t understand a goddamn thing you’re talking about half the time, but I celebrate the joy you take in it. Please keep enjoying it, especially if it makes you happy and isn’t hurting anyone. I’ll gleefully nod along any time you want to tell me about it.
I do not know what to do about the brutality in the world. I don’t know how to make people love each other, or see that their self-serving cruelty is hurting them as much as it hurts the people they hate. I do not understand why they do the things they do, what drives them to punish the innocent, or what fuels them beyond the original sins of white supremacy and patriarchy (is it really that simple? How do we get people to give that up and choose something better?).
I know I’m a middle-aged dad and you’re used to me having all the answers, and even though you are now also an adult, it’s disappointing that I don’t. I’m disappointed too. 2026 would be a lot less painful if I understood what the fuck was going on (in 2026, I also choose to swear more, because science says it gives us super powers).
To end this thing, I’m going to use a quote from another man, Rabbi Tarfon, who’s much much older than me (I know it’s hard to believe that there’s anyone older than me) that’s making its third appearance on my (also very old) blog, because it’s the crutch I use when things are difficult and I’m wandering around in the dark looking for help:
Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief. Do justly now, love mercy now, walk humbly now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.