Something happened on that walk. I still felt the grief of loss that occupied the silences between the bustle of everyday life. But something else began to take over: a sense that it was all part of something bigger, that life and death and light and darkness were all one and essential and part of a broader cosmic unity. I miss my best friend, but I will carry with me all that we experienced together—until the day that I, too am gone. I hope to have letf behind some positive memories for others, as well, when my time comes. I also take with me, not only the memories, but an imperative—to live in such a way as to honor the memories of those lost along the way.

The final weeks of December are the coldest, darkest weeks of the year, with the longest nights (if one lives in the Northern Hemisphere and outside the tropics, that is). There is something about that last week of the year, between Christmas and the New Year, in which the traditional notion of self-reflection and resolution holds great appeal.

I like New Year’s Resolutions. I know most people don’t “stick with it,” and that the gyms will empty out and the baked goods aisles will pick up in a couple of weeks, followed a couple of weeks later by the beer aisles and the liquor stores when “Dry January” comes to its inevitable end. The fact that most people try to make changes and fail almost doesn’t matter, in a way, because it’s the motivation—self-reflection, self-improvement, and “cleaning up the mess,” that matters. If you try to make a change enough times, it’s because you want (or need) to; eventually thinking it through and trying different things is more likely to lead to a successful effort toward enduring change.