I saw a cartoon last week that I’d seen dozens of times before. It showed a tired, bedraggled old man with a long white beard. He was labeled “2014.”

Why is the year just ended always portrayed as exhausted and defeated? Has there never been a year that seemed perky and proud as it came to a close?

The year 2014 could be a candidate for that. The 2008 recession is behind us and the U.S. economy is again robust. Unemployment has dropped four percentage points since 2010.

We’re out of two debilitating wars on the far side of the world. More Americans have health insurance than ever before. And gasoline is now hovering around $2.00 a gallon.As 2014 takes its bow and leaves the stage, things are looking up!

But we prefer to get angry about what’s not yet right---our ongoing abuse of the environment, the widening gap between rich and poor, the continuing threat from terrorists, the Crimson Tide’s loss to Ohio State. And why doesn’t President Obama have Ronald Reagan’s folksy good humor or Lyndon Johnson’s political skills? What use are good ideas if you can’t sell them?

So cartoonists depicted 2014 as a weary, worn out old geezer. But why do we dwell on the bad rather than the good?

I do it in my personal life, too.

There is much I could rejoice over as I mull over my life---a happy marriage, thriving adult children, charming grandchildren, friends near and far, good health, books published and appreciated.

But in the middle of the night it’s more often the regrets that I think about---decisions that backfired, good deeds left undone, marred relationships, priorities I didn’t embrace but wish I had.

The prison inmates I know do the same thing. They have more than regrets---many of them live with a profound, lacerating remorse.

I have in my possession a manuscript by a prisoner at G. K. Fountain in Atmore. He’s a lovely man in some ways, but one who took a wrong turn (and whose horridly abusive childhood almost guaranteed that he would).

In his manuscript, my inmate friend pleads for answers: Why did I go so wrong? Will I ever reconnect with my son? What does my life mean? Am I a total waste? Is there any point in going on?

The inmate and I will talk about those questions this week. I will try to help him find something positive to focus on, but given the realities of prison life in Alabama, that will be a challenge.

Another inmate friend of mine approaches things differently. Although he has deep regrets and may spend the rest of his life behind bars, he wrote to me recently that in his mind, he fancies himself a soaring eagle, unbound by walls of any kind. His outward circumstances are beyond his control, but he can decide what to think about. He doesn’t let what’s happening around him shape his inner life.

That inmate reminds me of a woman I once met in a nursing home. She was wheelchair-bound, but cheerily said to me, “I’m a tennis player.” How sad, I thought---she’s suffering from dementia. But no. Although the woman’s legs no longer permitted her to race across the court and return a backhand, she had decided not to let her physical disability define her. In her mind, she was still playing tennis. She had learned to be happy where she was.

It may seem presumptuous for someone like me to advise prison inmates and invalids to be happy where they are. I cannot imagine the negative thoughts vying for their attention. But I know that even they can find something to be thankful for.

Happiness is a choice, and it should be an easy choice for most Americans at the beginning of 2015 because things that have alarmed us and held us down in recent years are getting better.

The cartoonists portrayed 2015 as a bouncy toddler full of anticipation and hope. Those hopes can come true only if we let go of our regrets and anger, celebrate the good things, and build upon them.

Richard H. Schmidt is a retired Episcopal priest, editor and author who lives in Fairhope. He can be reached at courier@gulfcoastnewspapers.com.