There are many ways you can move through time. You can allow the calendar of the economy rule your life, rushing from one sale to the next, spending your minutes in search of a great bargain. You can embrace the 24-hour news cycle as a way to mark time, always waiting for that next headline that might change everything. You can hitch your days to the current election cycle. You can live according to these calendars of exhaustion.
But you have occasional encounters with the rhythms and rituals of the liturgical year. You attempt the practice of leaning into a cycle of seasons that offer you an alternative to exhaustion and destruction. It is here where you have such small hope.