I tell myself that I am not perfect, yet I expect to always be better than I was.

I reject comfort and security for the sake of positive change, yet how often I let the uncertainty get to me.

I unmask my problems, put a name to my sins, yet I still step in the same holes. Like a man who, having stepped in a puddle and vowed to never step in one again, proceeds to soak his foot once more. Is it madness, expecting to be different, dreaming of being different, yet always waking up to full-circle?

Life isn’t an easy business. It is hard enough with all that we must contend with—toil, illness, loss, uncertainty, the malevolence of others, pure misfortunes, and death. An onion with many bitter layers. We add yet another layer by our own hand. We make mistakes. We fall into bad habits. We refuse to change. We choose the wrong paths. We blunder. The winding pathway of life is laden with the fenceposts of error. We accomplish so much, but only after innumerable failures.

Long have I pushed back against this imperfection. Long have I thought myself a failure for being less than the ideal I envision. I have been at war with myself, and while I must be at war with the flaws that diminish me, I have come to realize that this, too, is part of the adventure of living. Learning to live with myself. Learning to make it work, this lifelong, intimate, and irrevocable relationship that started the day I was born and that will end the day I die.

Everyone makes a big deal about the outer journey of life—the things that glitter. But not all that glitters is gold, not all that doesn’t glitter is without value.

The inner journey is a worthy challenge. The transformative evolution of the mind, body, and spirit. Wrestling with your shadow and, upon realizing that your shadow will always be there, getting comfortable with the discomfort of being who you are—to accept the darkness and the light, and despite your thorns, to strive towards making your life and the lives of those around you better for your having been there. To accept the line of good and evil that cuts through all human hearts and get busy with making the best of things. To nonetheless let goodness be the monument to your existence.

At the heart of everything is one word: forgiveness.

Here is another: love.

Forgiveness for yourself. Love for yourself, despite everything. The alternative is self-destruction, and we’re too damn good at that already. Take the higher road. They say treat others as you would like yourself to be treated. Treat yourself the way you would like others to treat you, too. I know it is hard, but it all starts there—in letting go of the resentment you hold towards the face in the mirror.

I cannot say that I am a perfectly good person. But neither can I say that I have not created good in this world, if not for myself, then for others. I know that I have helped others where I can, inspired others where I can, and lit candles where there was darkness. How do I know this? Hold a dying person’s hand, and you’ll know what I mean. Kindness is free to give, yet priceless to receive. No matter how hard things get, no matter what you’ve done, give kindness. It’s the best default there is.

So as I go into another year, I make a deal with myself: to forgive, to love, and to let go. I humbly ask that you consider doing the same.