It’s the first of the year, time of arrivals and departures, of the two-faced Janus, looking back into the past and forward into the future.

Here in the office there are also arrivals and departures. Some are joyful, others less so. I think about a couple of people who will be moving to our suite before retirement. These changes fall into the “not with a bang but a whimper” category. People close to quitting who, if they’d had their druthers, may not have chosen to spend their final months here.

We can’t all go out on a high note. Which is why I’ve been thinking about trajectories lately, what kinds of movements matter. I’ve seen enough of the work world, with its accolades and its disappointments, to put my faith in a less visible measure.

It’s the spiritual trajectory that matters most, I think, the one that takes into account all our efforts and attempts, the dollar we slip into a beggar’s hand, the colleague we forgive, the child we comfort — and the times we fail to do these things, too. The journey that underlies all others, our passage through the passages of life.