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Dear friends of the gallery,
As we reach the end of the season when it’s still acceptable to exchange New Year’s wishes, I feel the need this year to share something a little more personal with you.
Normally, I’m like an Energizer Bunny who never stops. But this time, I feel a hint of weariness—not a depression, but a gentle fatigue, both physical and mental. I’ve been wondering why the “H” in my ADHD seems to be shrinking, and several reasons come to mind.
Perhaps it’s the weight of the years, or the relentless weeks of work since the pandemic began. Perhaps it’s the stark reality that hit me hard last year: too many close friends and family confronted by that cruel lottery of cancer, with some being less fortunate than others. Or maybe it’s the quiet mourning we endure as loved ones drift further away into cognitive decline.
Then there are the small disappointments of daily life. I’m someone who gives without expectation, but sometimes, like everyone, I need to feel that my efforts matter, that they resonate. Selfish attitudes and inertia frustrate me, as does the growing societal tendency to focus more on rights than on obligations and responsibilities.
Yet, as I write these words, I hear the voice of my wife Marie—ever the optimist (this is the same Marie who can visit an airport restroom during a layover and come back with two new friends)—asking, "Okay, so what do we do about it?"
And so, I remind myself of a simple saying from the Dalai Lama that often comes to mind: “This too shall pass.” This weariness will pass. Life moves in cycles, and everything is temporary. The key is to remember to appreciate what we have.
My wish for 2025—and Freud would probably say it’s the same wish I make for myself—is simple: health, love (from family, friends, colleagues), and a multitude of small joys that, when pieced together like a quilt, create true happiness.
As for my fatigue, the remedy is straightforward: a little time for myself with my Marie, reconnecting with nature, recharging, and reminding myself of how fortunate I am to have all that I do. And for the things I can’t change, I’ve decided to follow Mel Robbins’ advice: “Let Them.”
I love you all and thank you from the bottom of my heart for your presence and support. Starting next week, I’ll share photos and videos of the newly renovated apartment, ready to welcome you.
Take care, and see you soon,
Vincent Beauchamp