And somewhere in the middle of all that, I arrived at a surprisingly comfortable conclusion, best expressed by that great sailor and underrated philosopher, a man whose entire health plan consisted of canned spinach: "I yam what I yam."

But I’ve always been an optimist. Not because I believe everything will turn out wonderfully. It might not. Humanity has demonstrated a remarkable ability to make a mess of things, often with considerable enthusiasm. Still, I remain optimistic. Why? Well, I’ve been thinking about that.

Jeff had been walking for hours, though he couldn't remember where he'd started. Rain followed him down the empty street, running from his hair and down the back of his neck. His jacket had stopped keeping him dry long ago. Water squished inside his shoes with every step.

There are real problems in the world. There always have been. There will be new ones. Some will be manageable. Some will be exaggerated. Some will disappear because technology changes. Some will require collective action. Some will be considerably worse than we initially thought. And occasionally, we will simply be wrong.

This habit of reflexive hate is not healthy. It never has been. Not for individuals. Not for families. Not for communities. And certainly not for a country that depends on its citizens having some measure of clarity and resilience.