A wish for 2019: Why it’s time we stop missing things
By: Sophie Nadeau
Tags: Life Lessons, Human Behavior, New Year, Journalism, Social Media

Every day I ride the subway, waiting to see something different. Over two years, I’ve rolled into hundreds of stops. In a blur, I suppose it’s the same thing every time. We don’t wait for a pause in the blur anymore. We don’t wait to see if we’re right. We don’t even look up to find what might be different.

When I first moved to Toronto, stunned by the impact of change, I couldn’t help but to look out windows. One day, at TTC’s Christie subway station, a brief pause in movement. Everyone but me was looking down. Not there. Living somewhere else. Living in their phones, I guess. My eyes were tugged to tiny holes all along the platform’s edge. Holes in the wall. There was an unexplained symmetry to them.

Then, to my surprise, the tiniest mouse darted from one of those holes and froze on the platform. She looked around in terror realizing her terrible mistake. She had taken a wrong turn somewhere. She then disappeared just as quickly back into the hole. The train sped off and I was left wondering if what I saw was actually true. I haven’t stopped thinking about that moment since.

I haven’t stopped looking. Have you? Last year, I wrote about the responsibility we each have to pay attention. I wrote about why we should consume information with care, appreciate opposing facts, treat others with respect and not be dragged into mayhem by our most basic instincts, especially online.

We had all hoped things would get better in 2018. On the surface, in the blur, things have gotten so much worse. And, in the middle of that, the way we perform for each other on social media pulled us even further away from the love and care that we need. It continues to pull us away from reality, isolating us from the hard work of being human.

But you and I both know, past the blur of all those things, there is still so much good. I know it when I read about people who spend their days helping those of us who are fumbling with pain, addiction and loneliness. I see it when our dear friends endure terrible loss and we rally around them with love.

I see it around the neighbourhood as our kids play together. We want to protect them together from the mess. Protect their innocence and — if we’re lucky — share their joy in a simpler world.

As I get older, it feels more important than ever to find a way to enjoy simplicity. There’s no happy ending from chasing novelty, lusting for shiny objects and lunging from gasp to gasp from more and more drama. We need to be agents — not necessarily of change — but of stability. We can’t stop working to make sense of things and to protect what we know to be true. We need to fight against the lies, of course, but how we do that matters more than ever. Kindness, persistence, respect, attention.

As the New Year approached, my mouse moment continued to bug me. Where did it come from? Why had I never seen one again? Finally, someone landed in my path who could clear things up. A good friend who shares the idea that doing the right thing is always the best decision, even when it’s hard.

He explained water always finds the path of least resistance, so the TTC built in a drainage system to protect the walls and ceilings from damage (tho they often lose the war against water all the same). He told me that water was both friend & foe. Complex. The mouse must have found its way thru on a dry day. I had indulged in thinking about that magic moment long enough. Finally, an answer. Piece by piece the world often explains itself to us just as long as we’re ready to listen.

Here’s what makes sense to me this morning. Even on the darkest days, our choices make all the difference. Even when things seem bleak and difficult, we can still find life in the most unlikely of places if we care to look.

Our work is never done. Don’t write off the future before it has had a chance to happen. My wish for 2019 is a simple one. Let’s keep our heads up.