Over the past few weeks, people have been lining up in Times Square for two things: coronavirus tests and a chance to write their hopes for next year on small sheets of paper for a “Wishing Wall.” Both are attempts to quell uncertainty, if only temporarily.
Tens of thousands of people have contributed a wish. All those little scraps of hope will be tossed from rooftops in a blizzard of New Year’s Eve confetti. Initially, the heat from the crowd of revelers below will send the confetti floating up above the buildings. Then the wishes will flutter across the city, carried by the breeze.
A plea for a baby might fall on a planter by a midtown bistro; a request for successful cancer treatment might land on a windowsill in Chelsea; a bid for someone to love could end up on the 14th Street subway steps. And hopes for an end to covid-19 will surely fly everywhere.
Before the first dawn of 2022, most of those wishes will have been swept into trash bins along with tons of other New Year’s Eve detritus. But today, at the rock bottom of 2021, it seems perfectly logical to believe that writing out a wish and sharing it in a communal ceremony will give it more of a chance. Besides, for most of us, 2022 seems about as predictable as confetti in the wind.
We have an understandable craving for cosmic assistance these days. The pandemic and political instability have eroded our already fleeting sense of control, leaving many of us feeling extra vulnerable and shaky. We’re drowning in facts...
Read Full Story: https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2021/12/30/wishes-new-years-eve-2022-hope-faith/
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