A Hopeful Nature
I have been accused of many things. Some true. Some not true. Some true that I will deny forever. I am aggressive (sometimes true). I am mean (not true). I am judgmental (I refuse to comment). But what no one has ever accused me of being an optimist. Always looking at the bright side. It is not who I am. It is not who I want to be. I am a realist, or at least I try to be one. I see what’s in front of me, see what’s happened in the past, and try to make a reasoned guess at possible futures. This generally does not lead to happy thoughts.
I have been accused of being hopeful. And it’s an accusation I welcome with open arms and hug close to me. I want to be hopeful. I need to be hopeful. But hope takes work. Gardening is an act of hope. Reaching out to a friend to give or get support is an act of hope. Volunteering is an act of hope. Loving is an act of hope. Hope is action.
For five years now I’ve been writing Design and Nature Reimagined and I’ve really enjoyed it. But recently I’ve felt constrained by the way I’ve set it up and I could feel myself actively avoiding it. But at the same time I missed it. I started the newsletter for two reasons: to talk about nature and to talk about hope. I still want to do that, I just think the newsletter needs a little more breathing room. And I really want to lean in to hope. I think we need it now more than ever.
I’m angry reading the news and watching people get away with lying, stealing, cheating, hurting, murdering, and evading all consequences just because they’re rich and powerful and protected by sycophants who want more riches and more power. In fact, I have moved on from anger maybe and am just disgusted. It is pathetic. It is maddening. It is wrong.
But our world is what we make of it, and like any good gardener I believe that we reap what we sow. And I don’t want to sow more anger or fear or disgust. I want us to imagine a world that is in the adjacent possible. I want us to imagine a world worth working toward. I want us to do the hard work of hope. Hope galvanizes us. It can shake us from helplessness into a state of action. Hope is not wishing, it is not waiting for change, it is not optimism. Hope is action.
I don’t know what I have to give in this capacity. I’m not an activist, I’m not a politician. I’m not rich and I don’t know people in positions of immense power. But I have, and give, and know love. I care about the ground beneath my feet, the creatures around me, the air that we breathe, the water we all drink. And so maybe the thing I can do is share that. Create something that provides connection and nature and hope. Because hope is hard. Especially when we feel like we have no control.
But control is an illusion for all of us. All we have are our actions. We decide what we believe, who we believe, what we allow into our minds, and what we reject. So I continue to choose hope. I want to do the work of hoping. Of knowing that we can and should be better. There is an adjacent possible that can be better than what is happening now. But we have to work to get there.
So, my newsletter will be changing a bit. It will be called A Hopeful Nature. I don’t know exactly everything that will be in it going forward, but I do know that if you’re looking for something more hopeful, something that can spark a connection, we can get there together.