December 30 always feels like a hyphen to me. A little gap. It is the space between the past year and the next. Traditionally, it is a day of reflection for me. I look for inspiration for the year ahead. Not resolutions. That’s not my thing. I’m looking for a bit of a North Star, if you will. Something to guide me in 2024.

Inspiration can come to me during meditation. But meditation doesn’t always help when I’m looking for what to DO. That’s because meditation is about being, not doing.

Often, I need more. When that happens, I’ll pull a word out of the little bag of words I keep. Or I’ll pull a tarot card and think about what it means in the context of whatever problem I face. Sometimes, I’ll play “Bingo” with any number of books I keep handy that offer brief inspirations and insights, which means I’ll open to one random page and see what it offers me.

St Roger of Cannae. Source: Wikipedia

Today, I looked up which saint has their feast day on December 30 and discovered Saint Roger of Cannae. This is a surprising thing for me, an ex-Catholic, to do. But inspiration can come from anywhere. According to Wikipedia, (which admits their page on Saint Roger is lacking detail) he was the Bishop of Cannae in a region of what is now southern Italy. The region was destroyed by Normans in 1083. Little is known about him. Even saintoftheday.com has little to go on. And my own little reference guide to saints, Saints: A Visual Guide does not even list him.

Saint Roger is sort of a forgotten saint, I guess. Little known. Known just enough. That appeals to me. Fame would be a burden, I think.

“Roger contributed to the moral and material reconstruction of the ancient city of Apulia, supporting his fellow citizens with the consolations of faith and the material aid” after it was destroyed, says Wikipedia. Saintoftheday.com writes that after Cannae was sacked, “Where some saw only destruction, Roger saw an opportunity to create an even more welcoming and compassionate community.”

Bingo. That’s exactly the kind of inspiration I’m looking for today.

When I think back to the beginning of 2020, I thought building a better community was the possibility that the pandemic offered us. It was horrible, yes, but it also showed us important things we could be better at. I remember that first week after planes stopped and cars stopped and everyone stayed home, I went for a very solitary and quiet walk down to Lake Ontario. The sky was SO BLUE. I hadn’t seen a sky like that since I was a kid. The pollution was clearing. I thought, “Oh! Look. Look how fast we could fix what ails us.” Sometime later, I stood in awe as a ten point buck walked in the forest along the Humber River. Where had he been all this time? I saw foxes. And turtles. And so many birds. In Toronto, a huge and sprawling city.

Sigh. I was so naive. I admit I have felt very bitter about the lost opportunity. I haven’t always taken it well. Like many of us, I’ve been adrift in conflicting emotion. The pandemic challenges our relationships as we negotiate our different responses. I feel let down by my fellow humans. As a person with serious health challenges, I often feel abandoned as the world goes “back to normal” and opportunities to participate more safely evaporate. Ableism is what makes my life harder, not mask wearing.

Anyway, although those hopes I had for a better world are mostly dashed, reading about Saint Roger, I felt a little jump with the words “create an even more welcoming and compassionate community.” I realize that is still the goal.

Fortunately, more opportunities are right in front of us. Climate change will test us even more than Covid. If Covid was the quiz, climate catastrophe is the final exam. It’s not one any of us can pass without each other’s help. We need a study group.* And, of course, the pandemic and climate are connected. Failure is almost certain, but how we fail matters.

I am not a patient person. And I am notoriously blunt. It puts people off. I’m going to try to do better. Oh dear. That sounds ominously like a resolution.

A more compassionate community is possible. Even if we are being sacked by the Normans. Whoever they were. I’ll keep Saint Roger with me in 2024.

*Subscribe and follow along with The Grim Reader posts, which is a kind of book club of one about all the climate change books I’m reading, and, I realize, a kind of study group too. Comments on posts are always welcome.