2021 was confusing—a scary and exciting year for me. Much of the country was riven by fear, climate disaster, political divisions, sickness, uncertainty, anger, and hostility all year long, every single day.

I was aware of it, yet I kept my distance from it. But it was grueling to glance at the news.

I have to be honest. My year was cohesive, meaningful, and rewarding. It was a year of significant change, growth, and acceptance. I felt myself changing in positive ways.

I am finally learning who I am. And as I look back on the year – I am not a fan of nostalgia – I see what was important to me and what is worth recording, absorbing, and sharing.

There was a lot for me to be hopeful about. And a lot to be concerned about.

Perhaps because of this chaos and hostility, the Army Of Good had its most full and constructive year by far. We have come of age, we know our mission, we are together in carrying it out. From the first, our unofficial motto was that we do good; we don’t argue about what interest is.

We helped The Mansion and Bishop Maginn High School weather the great pandemic.

We helped a score of refugee students pay their tuition at Bishop Maginn, get laptops, art supplies, a nurse’s station. We’ve raised and disbursed thousands of dollars in clothes, masks and beds, household supplies, and warm clothing aid for the Afghan refugees.

We made sure no refugee family we knew of in Albany went hungry this year; we distributed thousands of dollars in gift cards for grocery stores. The pandemic hit the refugee families hard and still is.

Zinnia left behind a trail of smiles, comfort, and affection at both places. She was named Bishop Maginn’s Prom Queen by the class of 2021. She has come of age also, an actual therapy dog. She knows her job.

For the Mansion residents, we bought clothes, soap, shampoo, body wash, hair conditioner, a snowblower, shoes, blankets, bras, pajamas, and jackets for everyone who needed one. We even bought a snowblower. We brought innovative and memory-enhancing games and puzzles, old movie DVDs, TV for those who couldn’t afford them.

I am now conducting two classes at the Mansion – one for meditation and a new one for prayer services.

My marriage to Maria grew more profound and more meaningful as we faced together a series of challenging health issues that confronted me.

She was there for me at every turn with every step.

Every one of my health issues was treatable and has made me better and healthier. I am learning to listen to people who give me good and knowledgeable advice.

Maria and I re-committed our lives and marriage to creativity and creative encouragement. We love our lives and work and give thanks for them both every day.

I must be a pretty good person to receive that measure of love and empathy.

My health challenges have made me better, wiser, and committed to caring for myself. I am healthier than I have been in many, many years.

My foot was healed, my heart was strong, my diabetes was firmly in hand, I was losing weight steadily, my diet completely different and extremely healthy, my love for Maria affirmed, my sleep apnea mask brought me hours of consecutive sleep for the first time in my life.

And I am free to walk again where I wish.

As I aged this year, I also ripened.

I contemplated my health, drank in the silence, accepted my loneliness, celebrated my animals, took significant and risky steps with my photography, and faced the truth about who I am and who I am not. I am deep into my search for spiritual life.

I am learning what true acceptance means for myself as well as others. As I grow older, I care less and less what others think of me and worry more about what I think of me. As I grow older, I judge others less and less. Love is love; there are few qualifications.

My daughter and I continued our fruitful and challenging work together to understand and love – and forgive –  each other; this is a great gift to me, and hopefully, her.

It was the most productive year of my life in so many ways. I am opening up, learning every day.

I met and befriended the new Amish family that came to settle right up the road.

I loved this experience; it challenged me in many ways and enriched me in many ways, and defied me in so many ways. It was a joy to learn about them and write about them. They remain my friends.

Like anyone whose life crosses over into public life, I confronted hate this year in the way social media makes anyone who dares to put themselves out there face a torrent of hatred and scorn – we are not a healthy country right now.

But I can still speak my mind and remain healthy and positive. I do it every day. It is no longer a struggle.

Every day, I feel more and more confident that my country is beginning to turn in a different direction, slowly, indirectly, in small but distinct and visible steps.

There is growing resentment against the selfish and ignorant people who refuse to vaccinate themselves and their families and endanger themselves and their people.

“I can’t understand how those people let my father die,” said an Iowa woman whose father died in part because he could not find a hospital that had room for him. “It means nothing to unvaccinated people to be an American,” she said.

Her story is making news all across the country.

Her 7-year-old father could not find a hospital bed because all the hospital beds in Iowa were filled with unvaccinated people who loudly rejected vaccines but demanded all available medical help when they got sick.

They did not find the medicines that saved them a hoax or a government plot against their freedom or brains.

If there is a God, they will face them one day. These poor, sick, and dying people are the children of Trumpism and the hatred and suspicion it has promoted and celebrated. They will not be forgotten.

To me, there is no form of lower than that of the hypocrite. Hypocrites are not simply evil; they are consciously and knowingly evil.

The good and compassionate people are changing and waking up, not because they hate Donald Trump, but because they hate lies,  endless arguments, and cruelty. The victims dying in those hospitals are the orphaned children of Trumpism.

Hatred kills.

I believe people will naturally seek hope, faith, and compassion in their lives; it is what it means to be human. Love and compassion will trump hatred every time, even if it takes a while. I don’t just say that. I believe it.

In my contemplation, I saw the spiritual and other dangers of enabling or participating or joining in the divides and arguments wracking the country. I am learning to rise above myself and be more significant than me.

I won’t do it. For every sign of hate, I will respond with a gesture of good.

They will never turn me into a hater or bully me into embracing hatred, white nationalism, and bigotry. I will pursue the moral foundations of my life for as long as I can and as long as I live.

This year was the most significant spiritual growth for me as I faced who I am and thought deeply about being better. I’m still looking for God, but I am finding peace. Perhaps that’s the first step.

I also deepened my resolve never to let anyone else define me; that is the first death to me, no labels on my forehead, no giant flags flapping in the wind on the back of my truck.

I enthusiastically embrace the pleadings and teachings of Jesus Christ, even if I can’t worship him. I can undoubtedly cherish what he meant. I wear two crosses every day, one new, one ancient. They comfort and inspire me.

We have so many challenges to face in our country; I think every day of the fires, tornadoes, floods, and drought that have destroyed so many homes and taken so many lives. I bow my head at the people who die unnecessarily and cruelly because of selfish politicians and their selfish and blind followers.

I acknowledge these tragedies, but they won’t consume me; they will never define me.

(I’ll continue the diary tomorrow and up to January l. The above painting is by the beautiful artist Christopher Smith; it was a study of my first donkey Carol and me. It hangs in our dining room.)