There’s something to be said for giving Christmas room to breathe.

Opening my fridge this morning, I see the fennel bulb that I’ve been keeping in there for soup has developed some lovely brown spots that squish on contact.

The small stuff always adds up—and that means we can each make a difference, too.

I may well be right that he’s just living out his karma. But if I’m using that as an excuse to try and ignore his suffering, I’m missing the bigger point.

As I sit here watching video of our government shooting tear gas at folks trying to cross over the US-Mexican border in search of a safe place to live, I am so sorry to see that this is where we are as a people. But today, it is.