A Little Light
On Navigating a New Year of Contradictions
I know someone who, for as long as I’ve known them, has seemed trapped in a cycle of isolation, heartache, and a crippling lack of self-worth. Just this past week, he was introduced to the work of James Baldwin from an Instagram post. It was a clip of him explaining how suffering can be a bridge.
You go through life for a long time thinking, No one has ever suffered the way I’ve suffered, my God, my God. And then you realize—you read something or you hear something, and you realize that your suffering does not isolate you; your suffering is your bridge. Many people have suffered before you, many people are suffering around you and always will, and all you can do is bring, hopefully, a little light into that suffering. Enough light so that the person who is suffering can begin to comprehend his suffering and begin to live with it and begin to change it, change the situation. We don’t change anything; all we can do is invest people with the morale to change it for themselves.
He told me it made him weep. He told me he saved it every place he could as a kind of safety net for himself. This guy who, after years and years, I’ve simply come to accept as permanently stuck and impenetrable, was broken wide open in an instant by the voice of a prophet from 55 years ago. Excited, I quickly recommended he read “The Fire Next Time,” and to my surprise he bought it.
There’s something in particular, however, that’s got me a bit tangled when it comes to all this. I can’t stop thinking about what his point of discovery was.
Instagram.
Yes, the same Instagram with the addictive dopamine hits.
And the AI slop.
And the body shaming.
And the opinion ranting.
And the ability to process daily atrocities in real time.
The paradox, the contradiction, isn’t lost on me.
We are just a few days into 2026, and it already feels like a lot to carry. If you’re navigating a team, a family, a venture, etc., no one would fault you for wondering, “Why does it feel like we’re living in a world full of contradictions? And how, in this contradictory world, do I even begin to move through it… let alone anyone I’m responsible for?”
And while there are no simple answers, I’m struck by the gift Baldwin seems to have given my friend, something viral in the most sincere sense of the word: a small sense of agency.
My friend’s realization that even in the midst of despair and depression, he has the ability to move did, in fact, move him. The illumination of a bridge and the whisper of reassurance that it was within reach dislodged something so stuck that, over time, I too had come to believe in its permanence.
Myths are stories we tell each other about the world we want to live in. This year, may we remind ourselves that we get to choose what myths we believe.
If you ask me, I don’t see the contradictions going away. If anything, they’ll continue to become more complex. We can either determine to shut it all down, (always an option) or take up the task of sorting through those contradictions to find the narratives that wake us up, shake us loose, and send us across the bridge on an adventure we were made for.
To be still is a gift. To stay still is to miss out on a birthright.
Some HouseKeeping
Reculture: Live in LA is fast approaching and you’re invited!
One of my New Year’s resolutions has been to try and enter more spaces where communion can happen offline and in-person. If you’re on the West Coast (or have means to travel) I’d be honored if you joined us for what we’re calling “an experiment in collaborative curiosity around some of our culture’s biggest challenges.”
It’s an intimate, in-person dialogue with leaders who are thinking about culture differently, from Fr. Greg Boyle of Homeboy Industries and Latif Nasser of RadioLab, to educators, writers, and producers from shows like The Problem with Jon Stewart and The Michelle Obama Podcast.
Together, we’ll explore the story we currently find ourselves in and consider what it might look like to step into a better one. It’s a space to listen, reflect, and, if you choose, actively participate in the dialogue. I’d love to see you there!



