I hate to admit it: I’m still recovering from the COVID-19 pandemic lockdown of 2020-2021. My writer’s life was disrupted and has never got back on track. I miss the monthly lunch meetings with our writers’ critique group. Long past resuscitation. What’s more, the Greater Los Angeles Writers Society (GLAWS), of which I was once an active member, continues to meet on the detestable Zoom. To make matters worse, the society’s co-founder and president, Tony Todaro, passed away in December 2023. It’s difficult to imagine GLAWS without him at its helm.

In July 2023, I lost another friend, Cyril Bryan, who also played an important role in my writer’s journey to publication. As the publisher of the Guyanese Online website/blog, Cyril promoted my blog articles, short stories, and novels, bringing my work to the attention of the Guyanese Diaspora worldwide. His invaluable contribution in connecting us and promoting Guyanese cultural events will be missed.

My personal loss is nothing compared to what families are facing in GAZA, Ukraine, Sudan, and other war-torn regions of our world. The plight of Palestinian women and mothers in GAZA was, and remains, my deepest sorrow in 2023. Their collective grief pierces the fabric of our interconnected consciousness. Such is the value of our lives to those who wield power in our world.

While the threat of a nuclear World War III lurks in the shadows, a planetary climate crisis and ecocide intensify with humanity’s inability to change course. The fossil fuel companies continue to use their political clout to forestall global efforts to reduce carbon emissions by 45 percent by 2030 and reach Net Zero by 2050. No doubt, they’ve got their escape survival plans ready for execution, when needed. The rest of us will be on our own.

Seven years are just around the corner. Already, 2023 was the hottest year in recorded history. It turns out that our planet is heating up at a faster pace than predicted by our climate change models. Last summer, staying cool demanded daily vigilance. This aging body of mine no longer copes with excessive heat like it used to.

Change is a constant in our lives. As occurred during the COVID-19 pandemic, some changes are very disruptive. In 2022, after reading Deep Adaptation: Navigating the Realities of Climate Chaos Edited by Jem Bendell & Rupert Read (UK/USA, 2021), I knew with terrifying clarity that a catastrophic change was already in motion. Dealing with such change would, indeed, demand a “deep adaptation,” unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. A shift in being.

Beginning in September 2022 and for ten months in 2023, as shared on my blog, I focused on the ideology that has led humanity on the path of environmental degradation and the remedy proposed by Jem Bendell. This shift in my way of being—still a work in progress—has amplified the way I see my interconnection with others and Mother Earth. My interactions with my blogger friends on WordPress are no longer the same. The stories I share are no longer the same.

I thank each one of you for the special gift you brought, and continue to bring, to my day. Without you, 2023 would’ve been filled only with isolation and grief. We may not agree on everything or share the same beliefs. Who does? There’s so much beauty in diversity. You give me hope that, together with those within our communities, we will overcome whatever comes.