Congratulations! | Today is your day. | You’re off to Great Places! | You’re off and away!
Last year we followed the advice of the great travel director Dr. Seuss and took off—with brains in our head and feet in our shoes—to explore great places. And the wonderfully wise children’s classic seems to be a perfect place to kick off this exploration of the “places we saw” in 2025.
Oh, the Places You’ll Go! (1990) by Dr. Seuss is the beloved and well-known children’s book that is a favorite for graduates of all ages, as well as for those exploring life’s ups and downs. In colorful and playful poetry it reminds us that we have agency: “You have brains in your head | You have feet in your shoes | You can steer yourself | any direction you choose.” But I was also reminded in re-reading this classic that Dr. Seuss doesn’t sugarcoat life. Early in the story the reader is flying high, leading the whole gang, topping all the rest.
“Except when you don’t. | Because, sometimes, you won’t. | I’m sorry to say so | but, sadly, it’s true | that Bang-ups | and Hang-ups | can happen to you.
You can get all hung up | in a prickle-ly perch. | And your gang will fly on. | You’ll be left in a Lurch.”
There will be ups and downs in life. There will doldrums, or even periods of despair. Because “Out there things can happen | and frequently do | to people as brainy | and footsy as you.”
But that’s how we grow as humans.
“And when things start to happen | don’t worry. Don’t stew. | Just go right along. | You’ll start happening too.”
That’s the joy of travel. Of life. When things start to happen, we “start happening too.” I was fortunate in 2025 to see many places new to me and to revisit some friends I hadn’t seen in years. Pieces of those travels and lessons learned along the way were captured in MORE TO COME. Here are my stories about the places we’ve seen over the past twelve months.
Where cynics see brokenness in our political life and authoritarians press to claim the spoils, true leaders see great opportunities and new ways forward
This is a fragile era in our country. It is tempting to consider only the chaos, cruelty, and corruption. There is certainly enough of all three to go around.
I rarely agree with George Will, but he was spot on when he wrote in the Washington Post that American voters are learning of “the Constitution’s limited ability to mitigate the consequences of their choices.”
“Neither the language of the law (constitutional or other), nor what are now shadows of norms, can substitute for what is indispensable: an occupant of the presidency whose constitutional conscience causes him or her to distinguish the proper from the merely possible.’’
Those who believe that violence is power want us to focus there. However, I want to focus on one recent moment that—at least for me—provides a measure of hope in difficult times.
ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS . . . BUT WORDS DO MATTER
On New Year’s Day I watched the public inauguration of Zohran Mamdani as the mayor of New York City. He had officially been sworn into office just past midnight in a “long-shuttered relic from New York City’s past, an artifact from an era when leaders sought to merge beauty with utilitarian needs,” as reported in the New York Times. The old City Hall subway station—with its tiled arches, chandeliers and vaulted ceilings—opened in 1904 as a showcase destination among New York’s 28 original subway stations. It was closed in 1945 when its curved tracks resulted in a dangerous gap between newer trains and the platforms.
Mamdani, who, as a state legislator, helped bring free buses to parts of the city, is an unabashed champion of transit. The symbolism was clear.
The ornate station itself embodied a belief that New York leaders could elevate life for millions of New Yorkers by creating a grand subterranean vascular system. It is, Mr. Mamdani said after midnight, ‘a testament to the importance of public transit, to the vitality, the health, and the legacy of our city.’”
Public swearing in of Zohran Mamdani as Mayor of New York City by Senator Bernie Sanders
His words after the public ceremony a few hours later were just as hopeful, forward looking, and inclusive. The new mayor promised to stand alongside the “over one million New Yorkers who voted for this day nearly two months ago.” Mamdani also promised to “stand just as resolutely alongside those who did not.” Only action can change minds, but:
“[r]egardless of whether we agree, I will protect you, celebrate with you, mourn alongside you, and never, not for a second, hide from you.”
THE WEIGHT GROWS HEAVIER. THE WAIT GROWS LONGER.
Why should we care about Mamdani?
Well, for one thing he now runs a city larger in population than 39 U.S. states. Think about that for a moment in light of our democracy, system of government, and outmoded apportionment of power. As one writer phrases it, “the arteries of the constitutional order are clotted with antidemocratic plaque.”
He also ran unabashedly as a democratic socialist, bucking the long-term aversion to government that has been stoked by decades of right-wing propaganda. Yes, Mamdani comes to office at a time when we have an administration in Washington led by a man whose superpower is polarization. Who regularly sows fear and divisiveness. Who is “working so hard to break down the international order and replace it with chaos.” The moment, as it often does, has both danger and opportunity.
But note how Mamdani framed his moment. It is the rare opportunity to transform and reinvent for something good, a moment where it is “the people themselves whose hands are the ones upon the levers of change.” Rare, but not unprecedented.
It was this part of the speech that resonated most deeply with me.
“And yet we know that too often in our past, moments of great possibility have been promptly surrendered to small imagination and smaller ambition. What was promised was never pursued, what could have changed remained the same. For the New Yorkers most eager to see our city remade, the weight has only grown heavier, the wait has only grown longer.”
Taking steps away from a status quo comfortable only for a small minority eager to steal more of our wealth and power and instead move toward greater opportunity for the majority takes courage.
MOMENTS OF INFLECTION
There have been other moments in our history when the time was ripe for change, when a political base changed sides, when the country faced vital decisions that could become part of Dr. King’s long arc of the moral universe that bends toward justice.
Mamdani looked back while also looking forward. He noted that for much of its history the city belonged only “to the wealthy and well-connected, those who never strain to capture the attention of those in power.” Working people suffered the consequences. There were exceptions, however, and while not perfect and not always successful, he pointed to past mayors as examples, men like Bill de Blasio and David Dinkins.
“And nearly six decades before [Dinkins], Fiorello LaGuardia took office with the goal of building a city that was ‘far greater and more beautiful’ for the hungry and the poor.”
Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia (credit: NYPL)
LaGuardia was the three-term mayor of New York City during the New Deal era. Some historians suggest that he was only a product of that time, which is very different from our own. His leadership and vision, however, come across through the ages.
“LaGuardia spoke five languages, defended immigrants passionately, won vast sums of federal money for the city and put forward a vision of New York that placed it at the forefront of the politics of his day. As he once put it, describing what he wanted for the city: ‘First and foremost, I want justice on the broadest scale. By this I do not mean the justice that is handed out in police courts. I mean the justice that gives to everyone some chance for the beauty and the better things of life.’”
As a member of Congress before his time as mayor, LaGuardia demonstrated that he stood with the people, protesting the Johnson-Reed Act of 1924 which drastically restricted immigration, especially from Southern and Eastern Europe. He did so because “its supporters were driven by ‘narrowmindedness and bigotry,’ a ‘fixed obsession on Anglo-Saxon superiority,’ and warning that ‘the spirit of the Ku Klux Klan must not be permitted to become the policy of the American government.’”
That sounds pretty contemporary.
LOOKING TO RECONSTRUCTION AND THE NEW DEAL
Thoughtful Americans are looking back at two seminal moments in our past for guidance. Historian Eric Foner states that “key issues confronting American society today are in some ways Reconstruction questions.” For some time those looking at our current era have suggested there is a need for a new American Reconstruction, one which harkens back to and seeks to advance the principles of that period. Over the past 150 years, clever and powerful conservatives have diligently sought to undermine the egalitarian promise of the 13th, 14th, and 15th Amendments. As Foner reminds us, the “key elements of the second founding, including birthright citizenship, equal protection of the laws, and the right to vote, remain highly contested. . . . Rights can be gained, and rights can be taken away.” A Supreme Court that plays Calvinball with the law is only one of many places that scream out for reform.
The other era in our past that serves as both inspiration and guide in our present day is the New Deal, a time when there was a belief in the common purpose.
The federal government is no longer sending vast amounts of money to the cities, so the times are different from Fiorello LaGuardia’s era. But politics and policies change. We’re seeing that now at the local and state level across the country. The huge inequality of wealth is leading Americans of all types and in all places to begin to recognize that the wealthy need to pay their fair share of what it takes to make America the country it aspires to be. In March of 1933 the nation chose a new path out of an economic depression and in the midst of global uncertainty. The leader selected was a new, optimistic president who told the country that . . .
“. . . with the ‘money changers’ out of power, it was time to ‘apply social values more noble than mere monetary profit.’ . . . The country must pull together, and ‘realize as we have never realized before our interdependence.’”
Thankfully, some Americans are already thinking ahead. How should we reframe America, reinforce the rule of law, and achieve the much bigger victory that we need to be aiming for? And how do we help younger generations believe in a robust democracy and civic life? Many of them have very little memory of a time before this political era dominated by “its open racism, authoritarianism, and obliteration—figuratively and literally—of political norms.”
DON’T EXPECT THE ELITES TO SAVE US
In his inauguration speech Mamdani spoke about the language of the people versus that of elites.
“The majority will not use the language that we often expect from those who wield influence. I welcome the change. For too long, those fluent in the good grammar of civility have deployed decorum to mask agendas of cruelty.”
That last line is both powerful and damning.
Mayor Mamdani and his wife, Rama Duwaji
Just on cue as if to prove Mamdani’s point, the New York Times added their most recent addition to the Annals of Sanewashing. Describing the most dangerous kind of malignant narcissism as the opposite of what it is will not save our democracy.
Peter Coviello, the former chair of Africana Studies at Bowdoin College, described his own experience in dealing with the language of the elites and their understanding of this mayor in Maybe Don’t Talk to the New York Times About Zohran Mamdani. Editors and reporters were writing to him—as one of the new mayor’s former professors—asking for explanations to help explain Mamdani’s rise.
“Beneath its humdrum requests, every email said more or less the same thing: Can you explain how reading certain things can turn a person into a socialist—and, possibly, a terrorist-sympathizing antisemite? It’s a storied gambit of the right at its most grimly predictable. ‘People read Foucault,’ the redoubtable David Brooks once wrote, in an actual column that I’ve all but committed to memory, ‘and develop an alienated view of the world.’ God, did I love this. An ‘alienated view of the world’! Not by, like, trying to pay rent or having an insurance claim denied—no, no, it was probably the Foucault you read in 2003. Anyway, it was clearly time to get the elaborate machinery of manufactured bewilderment and sour indignation up and running again.” *
As FDR said when taking office, it is time to “apply social values more noble than mere monetary profit.” We are there once again. We need to recognize our uniqueness and our interdependence.
Mamdani sounded those themes in his speech.
Zohran Mamdani speaking at a 2024 Resist Fascism Rally in NYC
“To live in New York, to love New York, is to know that we are the stewards of something without equal in our world. Where else can you hear the sound of the steelpan, savor the smell of sancocho, and pay $9 for coffee on the same block? Where else could a Muslim kid like me grow up eating bagels and lox every Sunday?
New York is, as Mamdani says, the place where the New Deal was born.
That love will be our guide as we pursue our agenda. Here, where the language of the New Deal was born, we will return the vast resources of this city to the workers who call it home. Not only will we make it possible for every New Yorker to afford a life they love once again—we will overcome the isolation that too many feel, and connect the people of this city to one another.”
THE TIMES THEY ARE A-CHANGIN’
During the inauguration ceremonies, there was a snippet played of a song from another time of change, when we made progress—albeit imperfect—in defeating greed and racism.
A novel that speaks of dislocation, history, and the power of language.
One of the challenges of the modern age is the disenfranchisement felt by so many in the midst of great abundance and wealth. The inequalities around how money and power are distributed is certainly a part of our era. But there is an isolation resulting from the breakup of communities, the loss of language that once felt familiar, and the failure of spiritual guideposts that exacerbates our alienation. We may think our situation is unique but there is much from the past that can speak with honesty, yes, but also with hope for our present times.
Clear (2024) by Carys Davies is a historical novel that brings a great deal of power, intelligence, and empathy into a few short pages. The story, told from three different perspectives, is set in the 19th century when two somewhat related and truly seismic events were shaking Scotland: the establishment of the Free Church of Scotland and the infamous Scottish Clearances. It is a time when around a third of the ministers in the Church of Scotland resigned because of a patronage system where landowners could nominate ministers of their choosing to congregations. That same era also saw whole communities of the rural poor driven off the land of those rich landowners in a relentless program of forced evictions, a time which gives the novel its name.
In this setting we meet John Ferguson, an impoverished Scottish Free Church minister who has accepted a job to help clear land for one of those landowners; John’s wife Mary who is apprehensive about her husband’s trip; and Ivar, the lone remaining occupant of an island north of Scotland. Shortly after his arrival on the island John falls down a cliff where he is found, badly bruised and unconscious, by Ivar. A bond develops as the minister is nursed back to health by a man who has rarely interacted with another human for decades and who speaks in a local tongue that is rapidly disappearing. John works to learn Ivar’s language while Ivar begins to see himself through another’s eyes. All the while Mary’s misgivings about the trip turn to action and she sells much of what she has to book passage on a ship to find John and bring him home.
Davies tells this story in spare, beautiful prose. She says only what is necessary to bring the reader into this loving look at a vanished way of life, a magnificent but harsh landscape, and the building of human relationships against all odds. The different perspectives provided by John, Mary, and Ivar give us new and unexpected ways of looking at a story that is about finding life amidst loss.
The ending—which continues with the same sparse yet captivating style—is unexpected and will stay in the reader’s mind long after the last word is read. I found it profoundly moving, as each character makes an unexpected decision that shows how their encounters have affected them. There is a timeless quality to the ending, just as there is to the novel as a whole. The story is placed within a historical framework but there is much to consider about alienation, economic devastation, connection, empathy, and love that resonates in a contemporary context.
Davies has produced, in the end, a humane tale that is both unexpected and deeply satisfying.
A beautiful novel, a testament to the written word, reminds us that “One ought to be precious with communication. Remember: words, especially those written, are immortal.”
“Aging is such a privilege” wrote a friend I’ve known since my college days. I’m only beginning to understand Becky’s birthday sentiment but my appreciation for her comment has been helped by my recent reading of a thoughtful, intimate, well conceived and well written novel. It packs a subtle yet powerful message: we can grow and change even when change seems impossible. It is also a testament to the power of the written word. I’ve seldom been as touched by a book in recent years.
The Correspondent: A Novel (2025) by Virginia Evans revolves around a lifetime of written correspondence to and from Sybil Van Antwerp. A mother, grandmother, wife, divorcee, distinguished lawyer, retiree . . . Sybil has lived a very full life. For much of it she has used letters to make sense of that life. At about half-past ten most mornings she sits down at her desk overlooking the river, with her mug of Irish breakfast tea and milk, and writes. Letters, usually written in a clear hand, go to her brother; to her best friend; to the president of the University of Maryland who will not allow her to audit a class; to Joan Didion, Ann Patchett, and Larry McMurtry to tell them what she thinks of their latest books; to a young son of a former colleague who is brilliant but troubled. Those individuals usually respond. It is what one would call a “rich” correspondence, although some would say it chronicles a small life. And that’s the wonder of this book. In capturing one woman’s life—the joys, sorrows, births, deaths, pain experienced, pain hidden, pain finally explored—Evans has produced a vibrant work that envelops and moves the reader.
Many days Sybil also writes to one individual where the letters are never sent. But when a painful event from her past rises up—through a series of letters, of course—Sybil finally understands that she will need to examine this part of her life in ways that bring pain, sorrow, forgiveness, and ultimately growth and fulfillment.
Sybil is not afraid of dispensing advice and opinions. In writing to Judge Landy, the father of the young boy who has connected with her, she notes: “Leave it to your generation to take someone who is absolutely brilliant and turn it into a problem.” When a prospective suitor from Texas asks her to dinner and throws in a condescending line about women delivering a punch line, she declines and replies: “A good punch line is a good punch line regardless if delivered by a man or a woman. You sound like an old fool with comments like that one.”
The oncoming loss of her eyesight leads Sybil, ironically, to see her life more clearly. She learns how to forgive both herself and others. She recognizes the treasures next door and halfway around the world. In one of her last letters, when she tells one she loves a secret she has never revealed perhaps even truly to herself, she writes:
“There is a quote from one of my friend Joan Didion’s essays. It’s from the last essay in The White Album. The quote is: ‘What I have made for myself is personal, but is not exactly peace,’ and then it goes on, and then, ‘Most of us live less theatrically, but remain the survivors of a peculiar and inward time.’ This feels like the truest thing I have ever read.”
This love has brought her to “recognize how knowing you has been like coming in from the cold, lonely road to find a warm fire and a table laid.”
When we finish The Correspondent we feel much the same way. One can change when change seems impossible. And in the end, working through the pain in our lives can lead us to living those lives more fully, peacefully, and joyfully. Writer Fran Littlewood described the journey as one that “will make you laugh, it will make you cry, it will make you reflect, as all the best novels do.”
Rules for the road of life help us see how we want to live.
As has been the case in recent years, I highlight these rules on New Years Day.
While January is when many think of resolutions, I’ve taken a different route. In 2013 I established several “rules for the road of life” focused on how I want to live day-to-day. “Life learnings” are what the essayist Maria Popova calls her list. Ryan Holiday has a similar focus, zeroing in on what’s in his control so that he concentrates his resources in the places where they matter. If you must make resolutions, consider giving up what doesn’t matter.
Annual resolutions are fleeting but we should expect anything worthwhile to take a long time. The flower doesn’t go from bud to blossom in “one spritely burst,” as Popova writes, “and yet, as a culture, we’re disinterested in the tedium of the blossoming. But that’s where all the real magic unfolds in the making of one’s character and destiny.”
IT IS ALL PRETTY SIMPLE, AND YET ALL SO DIFFICULT
Designed to help direct me during both good and troubled times, these personal guidelines are not quite principles but rather serve as reminders of how I want to live over time and in the midst of life’s mystery.
The language I used in crafting these rules tends to focus on actions: walking, eating, spending, committing, laughing, caring. In my reasoning we don’t simply think our way into being the person we are meant to be, we have to act out of our commitments. These guidelines have helped me take steps forward in my quest to be open to love and wonder. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel modeled this as a commitment to “radical amazement.” In his 1965 book Who Is Man?, Hershel wrote that while we try and manipulate what’s “available on the surface of the world,”
“. . . All we have is a sense of awe and radical amazement in the face of a mystery that staggers our ability to sense it . . .
Awe is more than an emotion; it is a way of understanding, insight into a meaning greater than ourselves. The beginning of awe is wonder, and the beginning of wisdom is awe.“(my emphasis)
Awe—of things extraordinary and ordinary—enables us “to sense in small things the beginning of infinite significance, to sense the ultimate in the common and the simple.” As it takes us beyond our normal ways of thinking, awe moves us, empowers us, stretches us, and can transform us.
Our thoughts become actions.
This remarkable, mysterious life we are given is all about change. Communities evolve. Nature grows, dies, and decays before being born anew. Sunsets turn from bright orange to deep purplish blues.
When I look at my eight rules, I recognize that they are designed for change. To help me slow down and pay attention. To take time. That’s a hard thing for someone whose default position is to “get things done!” But the more I consider what I know to be the path I should be taking I see attributes that I often miss in the rush through life. Awareness. Care. Wonder. Thankfulness. Moderation. Connection. Happiness.
Embrace the awe. Allow yourself to wonder.
RULE #1. BE GRATEFUL. BE THANKFUL. BE COMPASSIONATE. EVERY DAY.
Gratefulness is a practice we can cultivate especially during times of despair. My grandmother believed in saying “please” and “thank you” and those lessons have passed down to me. We begin our evening meal with each one at the table saying what they are thankful for that day. No matter where you are in life, you can start your personal “radically grateful” practice today.
RULE #2. EXERCISE SIX DAYS A WEEK FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE.
“Walking takes longer, for example, than any other form of locomotion except crawling. Thus it stretches time and prolongs life. Life is already too short to waste on speed . . . Walking makes the world much bigger and therefore more interesting. You have time to observe the details.”
I’ve come to embrace that approach whether walking in the great cities of the world, when visiting amazing natural landscapes, or just around our neighborhood. Walking has all sorts of benefits. We can each walk ourselves into a state of well-being. Walk into our best thoughts. Walk to daydream, as doing nothing is key to a creative life. Walk to be transformed.
RULE #3. LISTEN MORE THAN YOU TALK.
Listening is an act of love. It takes a lot of focus and energy, and all of us have our moments. Listening is not something that we do all the time. It’s work. It’s a commitment. But we want to make room for listening.
And while you’re listening remember that you don’t have to form an opinion about everything you’re hearing. Epictetus said, “It’s not things that upset us, it’s our opinions about things.” Holiday suggests that “the fewer opinions you have, especially about other people and things outside your control, the happier you will be.” Save your judgements for what matters. In the meantime, listen.
RULE #4. SPEND LESS THAN YOU MAKE.
Living within one’s means is always good advice no matter our stage along the journey. It is a reminder to me as I age to focus not on things but on what’s important now: beauty, friends and loved ones, those less fortunate, leaving a better place for our children and grandchildren. Spending less that you make is not a reminder to be stingy. In fact, a somewhat unexpected corollary to this rule might be Popova’s reminder to be generous.
“Be generous with your time and your resources and with giving credit and, especially, with your words. It’s so much easier to be a critic than a celebrator. Always remember there is a human being on the other end of every exchange and behind every cultural artifact being critiqued. To understand and be understood, those are among life’s greatest gifts, and every interaction is an opportunity to exchange them.”
RULE #5. QUIT EATING CRAP! EAT LESS OF EVERYTHING ELSE.
This rule goes along with #2, and it focuses on staying healthy through exercise and diet, especially as I age. Eating healthy food is also better for the planet.
Sometimes, however, we need help in following our rules. Since December of 2023 I’ve been working with a wonderful nutritionist because I needed help in lowering my weight and avoiding Type 2 diabetes, which runs in my family. Our monthly sessions give me the boost that I need to stay on track for the long-term.
RULE #6. PLAY (MUSIC), READ, WRITE.
This rule could also be stated as “make time for your passions.” I’ve had “Passions” on my daily task list now for a number of years, and under that I remind myself to “play, read, write”—which is shorthand for play music, read a book, and write something useful (at least to me) every day. It is the odd day when I don’t do at least two of these three. I find it is helpful to remind yourself of what brings you joy.
RULE #7. CONNECT AND COMMIT.
Conversation and connection are at the heart of living together as humans. “To communicate with someone, we must connect with them.” But like millions of others I consistently make a mess of this basic task. “The single biggest problem with communication,” said the playwright George Bernard Shaw, “is the illusion it has taken place.”
RULE #8. DON’T BE A GRUMPY OLD MAN. DON’T POSTPONE JOY. ENJOY LIFE!
I continue my lifelong project to live into Kathryn Schulz’s admonition to treat each day as the exceptional experience it is while doing my best to bash into some joy along the way.
It is all pretty simple, and yet also difficult. Be open to love and thirst for wonder. Work for justice. Take time to dawdle and dream. Leave enough empty space to feel and experience life.
Remember that life is finite . . . love is not.
Try to be nice. Always be kind.
Best wishes for a wonder-filled and remarkable 2026. As you welcome the New Year, consider making gratefulness, thankfulness, and compassion an everyday practice. And don’t postpone joy. I can recommend the effort!
A summary of the December posts from the MORE TO COME newsletter.
The poet Friedrich Schlegel once famously noted that “the historian is a prophet facing backwards.” I claim no prophetic role, but I do tend to look at events in the world through the lens of history. Increasingly I work to draw inspiration from the critic Walter Benjamin’s vision of the true purpose of history: “to sort through the rubble of earlier eras in order to recover those buried shards of unrealized hope, to reclaim them, to redeem them.”
Today we say goodbye to a year that has been tumultuous, disruptive, violent, fearful; and we also say goodbye to a year that has been beautiful, enriching, wonder-filled, joyful. As Philip Roth once put it, “Life is and.” Good friends die. Children are born. Careers are crashed at the door of greed and new pathways with unexpected possibilities are opened. Things we once thought were essential fade away. New ways of perceiving the world spring to life.
All truth is a paradox. Life is a beautiful gift. At the same time it can be impossibly difficult. History tells us the next year will be both filled with uncertainty and opportunity. It will certainly be filled with loss and life.
The antidote to the loss of life is more life, embracing our time here on earth to the fullest. Recovering those shards of unrealized hope. Reclaiming them. Redeeming them. Heading into a new year we do best to follow E.B. White’s advice: “Hang onto your hat. Hang onto your hope. And wind the clock, for tomorrow is another day.”
Let’s jump in and see what tickled my fancy in the last days of 2025.
READER FAVORITES
With our 20th MTC “author interview” in November we passed a milestone. This month we brought the next installment in the series to life (pun intended). Author Amy-Jill Levine—who is smart, witty, and generous—answered my questions about her newest book in Nativity stories that provoke, encourage, and perhaps even inspire. AJ is always a reader favorite. This month our conversation about the stories in Hebrew scripture that foreshadow the familiar nativity stories of Advent and Christmas topped the list of most-read posts as selected by our Brilliant Readers.
The philosopher Eric Hoffer famously said “rudeness is the weak man’s imitation of strength.” It may feel we’re being held hostage by six-year-old schoolyard bullies and that we don’t have much agency. But we have the power, the responsibility, the strength to push back, as I write in The road less taken.
On December 7th I always like to return to Pearl Harbor and the ongoing fight against fascism. Pearl Harbor remains both a place and a response that is fused in our collective national memories. Yes, memory is essential to hope. The memories at Pearl Harbor are a reminder of a national response when the nation and all its people became much more important than the tribe and political party.
Follow the money—the saga of one of sports most-traveled and most-reviled figures—speaks volumes about what is totally screwed up in today’s sports world. And in our country at large.
PASSAGES
How is it to live with eternity at your door? is my appreciation for the life of Henry Farrington. Henry was diagnosed in 2015 with ALS, given 3-5 years to live, and just passed away in early November of this year. “People who know death is near,” said one of my mentors at the service honoring and celebrating Henry’s life, “are dealing with the loss of everyone they hold dear. Not one but everyone. Dying is itself an experience of grief writ large. Yet the antidote to the loss of life is more life.”
“BEST-OF” LISTS AND OTHER SUCH THINGS
December is the traditional month for lists that look backwards. Here are three of mine.
The year in books: 2025 is my annual listing of all the books I read. While it is a long piece, I encourage you to scan these short snippets and see what may pique your interest.
In recent years I’ve considered What our books reveal about us by looking for patterns in the books I read over the past 12 months. I was surprised to see how much fiction is now a part of my life. I’ve also accepted the fact that although I’m a planner by inclination and training (Masters in urban planning from Georgia Tech), that skill doesn’t carry over to my reading choices. And I’m okay with that.
Happy Christmas to you and yours is my traditional Christmas Day post, with this year’s focus on the wonder and meaning of the season. I also included three Saturday Soundtrack posts in December, including:
“I feel so fortunate that I have found someone who loves books and music as much as I do, perhaps more than I do. We are a “venn diagram” of our likes—they overlap, but perhaps I can introduce you to new things, and certainly you have exposed me to many new writers and music.”
The back-and-forth of introducing and learning about new writers and music with readers keeps me going.
Andrew Bearden Brown’s curtain call, with other soloists and musicians, following the Washington National Cathedral’s 2025 production of Messiah.
A family friend wrote the following note to Candice after one performance of Messiah at the Washington National Cathedral in early December. I added it to the Fall 2025 post:
“What an absolute joy it was to be in the audience for last night’s Messiah. Not only the joy of hearing beloved music performed at the highest level, but to see a young man I’ve known for years transformed into a powerful artist. It was thrilling; if I felt that way, you must walking on air.”
We were. Andrew’s performances singing the tenor solos in this beloved piece were masterful. We were proud of course, and thankful, knowing of all the years of hard work by Andrew to build on his talent that went into that weekend’s performance.
DON’T POSTPONE JOY
Thanks, as always, for reading. Your friendship, support and feedback mean more than I can ever express.
As you travel life’s highways be open to love; thirst for wonder; undertake some mindful, transformative walking every day. Recognize the incredible privilege that most of us have and think about how to put that privilege to use for good. Women, people of color, LGBTQ+ individuals, immigrants, public servants, and others can feel especially vulnerable . . . because they are. Work hard for justice and democracy as the fight never ends.
But also keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable. Take time to dawdle and dream. Leave enough empty space to feel and experience life. Those gaps are where the magic begins. When times get rough, let your memories wander back to some wonderful place with remembrances of family and friends. But don’t be too hard on yourself if a few of the facts slip. Just get the poetry right.
Remember that “we are here to keep watch, not to keep.” Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it. And bash into some joy along the way.
You can subscribe to MORE TO COME by going to the small “Follow” box that is on the right-hand column of the site (on the desktop version) or at the bottom right on your mobile device. It is great to hear from readers, and if you like them feel free to share these posts on your own social media platforms.
Presenting the top MTC posts for 2025, based on reader views.
December is a month for “Best of” and “Top Ten” lists. I join in the fun with your selection, Brilliant Readers, of the top MORE TO COME posts for the year of 2025.
Readers keep checking in, providing feedback through their choices of what’s of interest, and for that I’m very grateful. We had a banner year, with more reader views than in any twelve month period since I started this endeavor back in 2008! Thank you!
The top stories, as chosen by readers, break down into:
Author interviews
Life’s passages
Thoughts on the times we live in
Family
Here’s a baker’s dozen of the top stories from the past year, as selected by the readers of MTC. And yes, you have to scroll almost to the bottom to see what’s #1.
AUTHORS TELL THEIR STORIES
Nine authors graciously engaged in a conversation with me during 2025 to discuss their new works in the Author Q&As series. Four of those conversations were among this list of top reader views and one of the books highlighted was just included in NPR’s list of top books for the year!
A love letter to small towns is my post about the new work, Sex of the Midwest: A Novel in Stories, an NPR “Best Book” of 2025 with a featured interview with Weekend Edition host Scott Simon. The residents of Lanier, Indiana (population 12,234) wake up to discover an email in their inbox inviting them to participate in a study of sexual practices. Author Robyn Ryle chats with me about her new work where “the e-mail opens up the secret (and not-so-secret) lives of one small town, and reveals the surprising complexity of sex (and life) in the Midwest.”
BONUS READ: Check out my 2023 interview with Robyn about her short story “Hemingway Goes on Book Tour” in the anthology Playing Authors.
Challenging a narrative of rupture between past and present looks at a richly illustrated book of the largely forgotten architectural work of Gustavo Giovannoni, an important early advocate for the conservation of historic cities. New Buildings in Old Cities is an impressive, wide-ranging, thoughtful, and relevant work. I was delighted when the editors agreed to answer my questions.
An environmental disaster and cover-up wrapped in a whodunit is the focus of Fiction as a pathway to the truth. The novel Troubled Waters is an engrossing read written by Syd Stapleton—who studied at Berkeley in the 1960s and became a leader of the Free Speech Movement; ran for Congress as a socialist in 1970 (and lost); and has been a former ferry captain, landing craft relief skipper, and tugboat worker. Syd graciously agreed to answer my questions about his first book.
Many of us easily recall the narrative around the birth of Jesus. But how many know, much less think about, the nativity stories of Moses, Isaac and Ishmael, Samson, and Samuel. Nativity stories that provoke, encourage, and perhaps even inspire is my review of an insightful book that examines the other stories about birth in the Hebrew Bible: A Child is Born: A Beginner’s Guide to Nativity Stories. My wide-ranging conversation with author Amy-Jill Levine is full of her insight, wit, and wisdom.
Three of the top posts in terms of reader views touched on passages, death, and appreciation for lives well lived.
On the 100th anniversary of my father’s birth, I posted What constitutes a good life? Born on July 5, 1925 in Franklin, Tennessee, Daddy passed away just shy of his 91st birthday. Tom Brown was not a wealthy man in the eyes of the world, but he was rich in so many ways that count. In his faith. In love of his wife, children, and extended family. In friendships that stretched across the globe. In his insatiable curiosity. In a deep belief in community and a deep, deep love for people. Love was at the heart of a good life for Tom Brown.
Richard Moe: A personal appreciation is my tribute to a former boss and mentor, who passed away this year at the age of 88. The New York Times obituary is extensive in covering Dick’s legacy of public service. As others were remembering Richard Moe for this public life and legacy, I offered a more personal note in thanksgiving for all the support and guidance he gave to me. I will always treasure our work together.
Life is finite . . . love is not was written after I learned that a friend and former colleague passed away after a difficult battle with pancreatic cancer. In her last message sent just a few days before she passed, Nancy talks about drawing from a great reservoir of gratitude for the wonderful life she’s been given. She ends by saying, “Please take good care of yourself and remember to love the people you love every day. Life is finite … love is not.”
THE TIMES WE LIVE IN
Two posts among the top reader views focused on our difficult times, when too many in our country have given in to bigotry, hate, power, and greed.
Rewriting the past to control the future is as old as history itself. Some attempts—such as state-sponsored erasure—are more malicious than others. Jason Stanley literally wrote the book on understanding fascism and in Erasing History: How Fascists Rewrite the Past to Control the Future he uses his family’s experience in 1930s Germany as a touchstone for a deeper dive into the tools of totalitarianism.
We think these are the worst of times. But history tells us we have seen chaos and disruption in the past. The next four years will be filled with upheaval and uncertainty . . . just look at our history considers disruptive and history-changing events in the first fifteen years of my life, going from Brown v. Board of Education to fear of nuclear annihilation, the Montgomery Bus boycotts, Little Rock, Castro’s revolution in Cuba, political assassinations, Vietnam, and more.
FAMILY
Three family-related posts were among the top reader views in 2025.
After a summer of singing opera in Santa Fe, our son—the tenor Andrew Bearden Brown—returned to the concert stage in New England, California, Florida, and Washington, DC. I highlighted his schedule in Fall 2025.
Candice and the twins had a surprise waiting for me on my 70th birthday: more than 90 cards from friends and family from all around the world. Rich (in a George Bailey kind of way) is my post on these wonderful notes and the beautiful thoughts they contained.
AND THE WINNER IS . . .
Yes, I completed my 70th trip around the sun in 2025 so it is appropriate that the top post from the year in terms of reader views was 70 lessons from 70 years. It begins with words of wisdom such as “The graveyard is full of folks who thought the world couldn’t get along without them” and ends with this reminder: “Savor every moment. They pass faster than you can ever imagine.”
BTW, I WAS RATHER FOND OF THESE AS WELL
While they didn’t make it into the top views this year, I was rather fond of these posts, which I recommend as well:
New headshots had me thinking about the spaces between teeth and on the calendar, which I explore in Gaps make life interesting.
Pearl Harbor is not just a place, but it is a reminder of a national response. In Pearl Harbor and the ongoing fight against fascism I write about a time when country, a caring for humanity, and a desire to defeat fascism and bigotry took precedence over personal achievement, power, and greed.
Finally, three conversations—with a priest, a recovering lawyer, and a professor—about the quality of my writing here on MTC led to the post Writing a present.
Whatever you found to enjoy this year on MTC, thanks, as always, for reading!
More to come . . .
DJB
Last year’s listing of the top posts on MORE TO COME as selected by reader views can be seen by clicking on the link.You can also check below to find similar lists from:
The coming of the new year is a time for reflection and promise. I’ve long favored “turning of the year” to describe this time of change and was delighted to hear several musicians call upon this old phrase in song.
Jennifer Cutting is “a composer and bandleader by family tradition and a musician and ethnomusicologist by training.” Her grandfathers, “one from England and the other from Ireland, were the inspiration for her natural synthesis of British and Irish musical traditions.”
Cutting’s song The Turning Year (A New Year’s Toast), as performed by the acappela quartet Windborne on her video, begins with this verse:
“Oh, kind companions gathered here, all at the turning of the year, The hour grows late, our hearts grow fond, in melody shall be our bond. We live in hope, we pray for peace, we meet with joy the year’s new lease, The falling snow, the icy moonlight shining clear, SO LET US SING TO WELCOME IN THE TURNING YEAR.”
I love the sentiment that we take our battle-scarred selves into the new year with a sense that no matter the trouble, we can prevail.
“Now Yule is past, the old year fades; time heals all wounds, or so they say. Though battle-scarred, we will prevail; we hold the pen that writes the tale. Do not regret the flow of years; for there is naught that disappears; Our every kindness written large, among the stars; SO LET US SING TO WELCOME IN THE TURNING YEAR.
And while we’re toasting the turning year, let’s remember to make amends to those we’ve hurt.
The tallest trees, the barest boughs, the callow choir of earnest vows. Whatever boon we ask of life, we ask it here, we ask it now. So let us toast to absent friends; to those we’ve hurt, let’s make amends; And those we love, let’s set them free, yet hold them near, SO LET US SING TO WELCOME IN THE TURNING YEAR.“
“The minutes pass, the hour strikes, the mighty flares light up the night Now let us raise a festive glass, that all we hope may come to pass. I wish you joy, I wish you peace, I wish you health, but more than these The power to know, just what to keep and what let go. SO LET US SING TO WELCOME IN THE TURNING YEAR… SO LET US SING TO WELCOME IN THE TURNING YEAR.”
Windborne at 2024 IMT Midwinter concert (photo by DJB)
On Jennifer Cutting’s Song of Solstice album, which included The Turning Year, she also has this poignant piece that reminds us that not all are as fortunate as we are in these difficult months of winter. Time to Remember the Poor is performed here by Cutting’s Ocean Orchestra along with the late acoustic guitar master Al Petteway.
For a slightly different take, Windborne also included a version of this song on their 2024 album To Warm the Winter Hearth.
Finally, I will end with Roger Eno, a British composer and musician, whose “distinctive style as a recording artist has attracted a cult following.”
In this video for the album The Turning Year’s title track, “Eno’s melodic solo piano is underscored by a beautiful string orchestration.” This was recorded at Berlin’s Teldex Studio.
Let’s all sing (and play) to welcome in the turning year.
The wonder of Christmas is that the greatest event in the history of humanity came silently in the night . . . The wonder of Christmas is that in the darkest hour of loneliness and despair, new hope is born if we have faith. . . .
The wonder of Christmas is that suffering and death are not the last word. Emmanuel—God—is with us in every human situation. The little unprotected baby in the manger and the desolate man on the cross revealed that where God is least expected, in the most unlikely times and places—whether at the beginning of life or in the emptiness of death—God is at hand! In every agony, every crisis we are not alone. The light of God’s eternal love shines in the darkness and we shall be safe.
There has been much to trouble our minds over the past year. But the wonder of Christmas, as Murray said, is that the suffering and death that is around us is not the last word. Instead of being crushed by suffering and death, we have been empowered by the Spirit of the Holy One to live the paradox of power and vulnerability in love.
It is a mystery on many levels, but to me the wonder of Christmas means that it is possible to see the connectedness of all creation. To see heaven—not the streets paved with gold stuff but what life is truly meant to be—on earth. And we see those connections and a glimpse of the true reality of life through love. The Rev. Sarah Taylor Miller eloquently suggested as much in a recent sermon at St. Alban’s Church in DC.
“Wherever we see acts of mercy, wherever we see true love witnessed in the paradox of power and vulnerability, in the feeding of the hungry, in the healing of the sick, in the welcoming of the stranger, we are seeing the image of the invisible God.”
“Life is a precious unfathomably beautiful gift,” writes Anne Lamott. And it can be impossibly difficult “here, on the incarnational side of things.” Because I believe all truth is a paradox, I love the thought that Christmas is about the paradox of power and vulnerability in love.
May this year’s season—in whatever way you celebrate—bring you happiness, help you treasure what is important in your life, and build hope for a future where love trumps hate.
Seeing myself in the books I chose to read this year.
Picture in your mind all the books you read this year scattered all around, covers closed, titles on top. What do they say about the year just completed? Your state of mind? Your stage of life? Your desires? A couple of years ago, a writer posted an essay on Substack asking those very questions. I was intrigued and have thought of my responses each of the past two years.*
I have found that in today’s world, fiction can sometimes be the best way to the truth — Twenty-four of the books I read—fully 40%—were works of fiction. Several years ago that number would have been in the single digits. Because the authors I read were not fully bound by true events (or perhaps even reality), their minds were able to explore truth in its many different dimensions. My newly-found fascination with mystery books and their inherent puzzle-solving nature has also contributed to the rise in this new area of focus. I have been genuinely moved and challenged by several works of fiction in the past few years and I expect this trend to continue into 2026.
I need help in shaping my personal resistance to totalitarianism — Three of my seven “top reads” this year focused on the challenges we face today as a nation. It is clear that a once great political party in America has been captured by the forces of bigotry, hatred, and greed. I looked for ways to respond directly as well as reminders that no straight road will take us there. We all need a compass, I suspect, for dealing with the uneven terrain we’re walking together.
“The past equips us to face the future; continuity of memory tells us we are both descendants and ancestors” — Even with my dive into fiction, I still read a lot of history and biography: 22 books in 2025 when you consider a broad definition of those terms. As a posthumous collection of thought-provoking essays by the Pulitzer Prize–winning historian and bestselling author David McCullough reminds us: history matters.
I’ve given up any thoughts of preparing a reading plan for the year — In the past I would sit down each January and put together a carefully constructed month-by-month plan of which books I already own I want to read. Then I make my first visit to an independent bookshop and the plan goes out the window! I now follow my instincts more than any prepared plan. Plus, I don’t seem constitutionally able to walk into a shop full of books and not find—and buy—at least one that looks intriguing. People’s Book in Takoma Park is my current go-to store, because it is so close and convenient. Plus the staff is interesting, knowledgeable, and helpful. By my count, at least 19 of the books I read this year just leapt out at me from the shelves of some bookstore.
I’m searching for different perspectives and voices — I continue my search to read and listen to more ethnically diverse voices, although I slipped from reading 10 such books in each of the past two years to six—or only a tenth—in 2025. This trend reminds me that it is important to occasionally be more intentional in some of my choices.
Tell me what books you think I’ll like, and I’m very likely to read them — Sixteen of the 60 books—or a little more than a quarter—were recommendations or gifts from friends and other readers. The dear friend and former colleague who recommended The Postcard—one of my top reads this year—called it “painful at a profound level, of course, and yet somehow resilient and inspiring.” Well chosen words for a book that is both timeless and so necessary in today’s world. Many other works recommended or loaned by readers are still sitting in my TBR pile. I’ll get to them eventually!
I get great pleasure in reading books written (or edited) by people I know — Writing well is hard. Writing a good book is really hard. Publishing a book that others will read is even harder. Putting a book into the world that makes NPR’s “Best Books” of 2025 list is even more amazing. At least nine people I know from different parts of my life published books in 2025 and won all types of accolades and good reviews. My series of Author Q&As are how I spread the word of their accomplishments.
Perhaps it is my age, but as I get older I have become increasingly fascinated with the stories people tell — Those who wrote the memoirs I read have a wide variety of life experiences. Some use styles that are genre-defying to tell their stories. No matter the experiences or the form, I find memoirs lead me to reflect more on how I’ve lived and who has touched and shaped me, perhaps nudging me to think more about finding ways to tell my own story.
Finally, I find myself reading about subjects that would never have attracted my attention during the first 65 years of life — In 2024 it was about sheep, the book that led my wife to ask with a puzzled look on her face, “who would write a book about sheep?” This year it was a book about nuclear physicists in the 1930s. It turns out that in recent years I’ve read books about beavers, eels, fungi, trees (lots of tree stories), coffee production, time travel, “wild-built” robots, mathematics, quantum physics, the horrors of Japanese slave labor camps, and more. Who knew? Perhaps I have become more adventuresome in my old age!
So I’ll ask again: What do the books you’ve read reveal about you?
More to come . . .
DJB
*You can see the books I read this year here. And click to see how I answered those questions for myself based on the books I read in 2023 and again in 2024.
MORE TO COME... 