Holding hope
Hope is a funny word nowadays, possibly weak and without meaning (“hope to see you again someday…”, knowing that you won’t), yet equally, strong and powerful. There was a reason that it was last to be held or sprung, depending on your interpretation, from Pandora’s Box after all the ills of the world were released; we needed this tiny flame to live and cope with humanities troubles. For me, I feel hope as a powerful force; it is only when it is lost completely does there seem no point to continue.
There is much to concern ourselves about, as I’ve written extensively about already — the rise of populist politics, the climate and biodiversity crises, the cost-of-living crisis, war, poverty, inequality, the deaths of women for wearing enforced clothing incorrectly, the deaths of others from floods, fire and disease. It is nearly unbearable and often overwhelming…
And yet… I have hope.
In my heart I read and absorb all these ills, I grieve and cry for these worries often. Sometimes it is hard to keep going when all you want to do is run away, or hide under the duvet and not face the day. Yet, I don’t, because not reported in this frenzy of doom, is what I see on the ground — huge numbers of motivated and determined people, just like me, who are making things happen and changing the world, one tree, one project, one life at a time.
I watched the most beautiful and poignant talk by Damon Gameau — a joyous and informative new narrative for our collective future. A future that is regenerative, respectful and possible. A second narrative came into my timeline, from an academic point of view exploring the economics of delivering on climate change. Again, this is hugely important and needs to be mainstream — watch Yuval Noah Harari and realise that we can afford the action needed to prevent catastrophic climate change. The TLDR is only 2% of global GDP is required as investment in renewables and sustainable infrastructure to prevent climate breakdown — just 2%. This is not only manageable, but possible.
Hope is real. I have seen it manifest in so many ways; communities coming together and taking action, flowers taking hold in the cracks of a concrete car park, a buttefly revived after nearly drowing flying up, alive, into the beautiful sky. Each of these examples, and so many more in my day-to-day interactions with nature, fills me with awe. Holding on to these, seemingly pointless things, brightens my day, cheers me and fills my soul. Within the darkness of the world, these small wonders fight away the fears.
When I look ahead to the future, following a train of thought that takes me decades, or centuries, or millenia forward in time (hey, I’m a sci-fi fan, what can I do!), I seek utopia. These fantasies help me shape my actions today, moving forward towards these endings. I accept that my future ideals might not be the same as yours, or any of the other seven plus billion people on this planet. That is ok, I don’t need them to be the same, that would be boring, what I need is that you want a better future too.
We all have vastly different experiences of the world, our cultural contexts and societal norms, which shape our views. Yet, even with those, whose political ideals seem diametrically opposed to mine, I still believe that we can find shared values. Do you want our babies to breathe polluted airs or drink polluted waters? Do we teach our children about kindness and respect? These might not be easy conversations to have, to find those beliefs which we each share, but they are useful conversations regardless and far more fruitful than the shouty noise of social media and its clickbait algorithms.
If we hold hope, we hold power. When we realise that, we can start building our own future stories. If you look around your neighbourhoods and communities, there will be others who are doing good too. Sometimes, this might be open and visible — a community garden, a church group, people caring about the elderly during covid lockdowns. Sometimes, you might need to dig a little deeper, a chance conversation in the coffee shop, finding out which charity your neighbour supports or watching them feed the birds. Noticing these small actions, and getting involved with the ones that spark joy in you, is where we grow our hopes.
I’m not oblivious to the tragic and toxic, but I think that much of this can be dissolved and lessened through reducing the harms we currently live in. Fostering caring and kind attitudes within our communities isn’t a walk in the park. The wonderful volunteers who I work with have their fair share of anti-social behaviour and vandalism that blights their efforts. Yet they don’t give up. They rebuild and replant, reach out and engage. They don’t have all the answers, but they don’t need them either.
Boredom, fear, poverty and pain all plague our communities, people feel lost, distrustful and abandoned. Love and kindness, values so easily laughed at and dismissed by those with power and money, cannot be broken simply. If we can now dig deep and grow these values, in whatever way you can achieve, in whatever way you and your communities need, then we can and will change our worlds. We each have spheres of influence and often don’t recognise their reach, but reach they do. Hope gives us the tools and means to keep moving forward, and to be frank, that’s the only direction we can travel.
If you like this article, please give it a clap — you can clap up to 50 times! I write irregularly but around every couple of weeks or so, follow me to be notified when I do. Mainly, I’m a artist, activist and sustainability consultant, now building a new life in Portugal. To see more of my writing and support my work, visit — https://www.patreon.com/Postcards_from_Portugal or https://futurecologic.co.uk/. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy it and I welcome any comments or conversation starters below.
