To be honest, I’m scared to death.
And for good reason! I’m anxious about COVID and coups and whatever cuckoo white nationalist bullshit is bound to come out of this month (and not just from America). Underneath all that anxiety however I’m still also kind of …hopeful. And that’s terrifying.
At the start of 2020, despite the bush fires, a looming US election season and a constant onslaught of terrible news, I was hopeful. It was a new year! A new decade! I started this newsletter to try and keep that spark of hope alive throughout the year. And then… ya know.
It's so scary to go into 2021 and be hopeful again. How foolish to believe things can be better. Why expect anything? Why make yourself vulnerable? Why not brace yourself for the worst? We already know the worst can and does happen!
And the reason I am still hopeful, despite the fear, despite everything is just… well, why not?
Even if I braced for the worst last year, how could I have predicated a global pandemic? How would it have helped? I didn’t have any travel plans for 2020, but it still sucked even though I had no tickets to cancel. Bracing for the worst wouldn’t have made the death toll any lower or quarantine any more bearable. If anything, quarantining without hope for a better future would have just made the loneliness worse.
I’m not advocating for foolhardy hope. That kind of thoughtless hope comes out from thinking that meaningful change is automatic and out of your hands. It comes from thinking that making a new years resolution is the same as trying to follow it through. I am hopeful that this year will be better because I am doing what I can to make it a better year. And I’m starting with being hopeful. I could lean into my fear and be cynical and suspicious instead, but why not try hope? It’s less cool, sure, but it’s also way more fun.
I’m going to do the work, but I’m also going to be hopeful and rested and invest in my joy. I deserve. You do too.
2020 tried it, but we’re still here. What’s good, 2021?