The future looks depressing, but we must shine in our small corners

These are the dog days at the end of the year – literally, for me, as I am spending rather a lot of time walking my English Setter, Jagger. Not just to increase my step count, but to neutralise the effect of sitting around in hot rooms, rustling up new ways with leftovers.

The week after Christmas was once cheesily dubbed “Twixtmas” – probably by someone who’d overdosed on the multipack chocolate bars – and while sprightly families, glowing with purpose, are hiking in the Cairngorms, or prepping the potting shed for spring, for most of us, the few days before the year turns seems to sag, like an empty hammock.

The house is still crowded, children and grandchildren are at home, and many have time off work. We’ve spent the last few days rammed together, socialising, singing, keeping our temper, perfecting the “It’s just what I wanted” rictus smile. We should be looking forward, excitedly, to the dawn of 2024.

But I don’t know anyone who’s happily optimistic about the coming year.

Quite the reverse. There’s a palpable feeling of helpless anxiety, real worry about what the next 12 months may bring because undeniably, we live in turbulent times.

At a local level, there’s a Covid and norovirus spike in our village and a belief that it will never go away. Many families, formerly coping well, are now struggling with the frightening cost of living and need urgent help.

As a coastal community, we are seeing the powerful effects of climate change, with regular flooding and erosion, and fighting the threat of “green energy” projects, which perversely, will destroy the landscape of an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty.

Nationally, our glorious NHS is disintegrating. Schools appear to be crumbling and teachers are driven dizzy as demands, guidelines and inspections cause stress and divert them from their primary purpose – to educate and inspire.

On the world stage, where do we begin? The horrors of wars in Ukraine and Gaza are in the spotlight but a myriad conflicts, oppressions and brutal regimes exist in almost every corner of our planet. “Are we heading for another Suez crisis?” asked one recent headline. Probably.

Disturbingly, things have changed seismically in the way we communicate with each other. In the past, an argument was likely to be ended by agreeing to disagree and a visit to the pub for a pint and a chat about something else. As a kid, being “sent to Coventry” meant a few days of being ignored by our chums. Now social media decrees that if your opinion is different from mine, you are “cancelled” or “dead to me”. Are we all too scared to say, “Stop! That’s not how we should communicate with each other”?

Sorry. I seem to have got side-tracked from my initial plan to end with a turkey curry recipe, but days away from New Year’s Eve, I realise I’m scared our path into the future looks very dark. So can we wish each other a Happy New Year – and believe it may prove to be so?

Most of us can’t influence world events and resolutions seem inadequate and futile, but there is one resolve that might help. In the words of a Sunday school hymn I sang, while nudging my sister off the church pew: “In this world or darkness, so we must shine, you in your small corner and I in mine.”

Every little helps, as they say in Tesco, Saxmundham.