It begins.

again.

I have bitten the proverbial bullet and signed up to substack. This without a thought in my head as to what I would write about. So I went back into my archives (grand name for collection of digital scribbling) and found this, which I think is as good as any place to start. Those who have read it will probably be the same people who one day stumble upon this version, so apologies for that. Sadly our need for hope is greater than ever it was even in 2020. The earth is burning and flooding by turns and shout as we might the powers have their headphones on, listening to themselves giving inspiring speeches to themselves, and will not hear us.

So here it is,

HOPE.

January 2020 (before the pandemic hit)

I recently challenged myself to write 500 words per day, asking friends to give me a one word subject to help me on my way.  I Haven't always managed 500 per day, but the I have often written lots more in one day so I guess it evens out.  Most of the words I have picked have been woven into a story, or collection of vignettes you might call them, I'm not sure.  Anyway, they are not ready for the world yet, but today I found myself writing this after staring out of the window for a while, my cup of coffee warming my hands, words just arriving in my head.

Hope.

We live on hope. We hope for better weather, a better, cleaner future.We hope that you have a happy birthday or that your mother’s death isn’t too paralysing.

Is it another word for praying?If you have no particular faith is hoping what we do instead of talking to god? Hope is by its nature optimistic, there is an intrinsic expectation of positive fulfilment. By hoping for something we feel are half way there, or at least we are nudging that desire in the right direction. Hoping for a happy birthday for someone is usually a pretty safe bet. Hoping that the death of someone much loved doesn’t paralyse you is a less safe bet, but the action of expressing that hope will help it on its way to becoming reality. Hopefully.

Prayer is hope wrapped up in religion. In an increasingly secular world (or is it?) we squinch up our eyes and hope to god (Gaia, air, humanity or ye gods and little fishes as my primary school teacher used to say) that what we want will come true. It’s not the same as regular and organised prayer, like going to the mosque and intoning learned verses with choreographed movements, or sitting in a pew in a grand church listening to plainsong as it sails up to the rafters and out and up to whoever your god is, the words from centuries past asking, please, this time, to bring us aid, save our souls, make it all better. Or shuffling rosary beads though our hands, muttering the same prayer to a young girl who lived and died centuries ago over and over. Or sitting cross legged on our yoga mats, being mindful and setting out our wishes, hopes and intentions for the day, regularly, rhythmically. If we remember. 

Hoping with hope, with or without squinched up eyes, doubles up the optimism power I think; it’s a prayer, without a church, but with a congregation. I hope with hope for a better world. It’s a massive and unwieldy hope, and a daunting one. It’s a hope that takes a battering daily by listening to the news, but also is boosted by seeing people get together to fight back at the wrongs, making bigger and better the rights and just being kind to one another.

People. People give me hope. At the same time as vile and greedy people (and corporations are designated people so extra power to them right there tragically) are hoovering up this planet’s resources and spewing out the toxic byproducts, other people, the real people of this planet, are fighting back. We may be small, but we are mighty. We can do this.