HOPE

It is almost impossible, now, to describe what it felt to be incalculably hopeful. Our idealism, in the sixties and seventies, was boundless. We believed absolutely and completely that we would change the world. And in some ways the world was indeed changed. The civil rights act, the voting rights act, ultimately Title IX, the rise of feminism and a tectonic shift in our culture; music, art, attitudes.

And idealism dies hard. All my life I have held fast to some idealistic notions of good and right. Not to mention my steadfast belief in constitutional democracy and the protections it should afford us.

Having said that, the hardest thing for me about where we are now is the erosion of hope, the loss of idealism. I find it damn near impossible to watch the news without becoming angry, or depressed, or just plain sad. I find it almost impossible to believe that we are where we are. That racism, fascism, anti-semitism and all forms of bigotry are on the rise. That we cannot agree that saving the planet and all the creatures on it should be a first and urgent priority. That the short view is always the prevailing view. That civil discussion and disagreement are no longer possible. These are the big things, the small things confront us daily. My town now only pretends to recycle, my social security is taxed, there are hungry homeless children in our schools; and on and on.

I was watching a fictional television show in which a leading character made an impassioned speech about the values we should all be holding dear. About the pure and fantastical notion of a government by and for the people. And geek that I am, it made me cry. Good,grief. And it reminded me of that hope, that beautiful boundless hope.

And all I can do, as I witness the destruction of decades of progress on the environment, the recission of regulations that protect our air, our water, our parks, our children, the poor, the disenfranchised, is try to see the good. I watch for those moments when the best in us is evident, when my neighbors help me with things I can’t do, when people band together to help the victims of some senseless tragedy, when a restaurant feeds those with no money. Just examples, but sparks of hope. As I said, hope does hard, so we have to fan those tiny sparks and pray, every day, that the flames can rise again and carry us forward. Maybe hope is contagious.

Author: Trienah Meyers

I am a singer, a writer, a mother, a teacher. I am learning to live life differently at this new stage of life. Adventures, food, music, books, friends, religion. Everything is interesting. Everything old is new again. I am also available to write blog posts for your business, your monthly newsletters, your speeches. Proofreading and copy editing also available.

3 thoughts on “HOPE”

  1. As with everything you write, this is so well said, and I agree with every word. I just got off the phone with another friend after having exactly the same conversation — a conversation we have at least twice a week. I’m trying to see the good too because I also believe that’s all we can do; it’s just so hard sometimes.

    Looking forward to your next post.

  2. Hello Triena I am up in the woods of Penn and I just saw a post for Ten Years After, we’d Like To Change The World and we did. It’s a damn shame that they have changed so much back yes it hurts my heart! We will facilitate change again not soon enough but soon! Love this and you you bring the rebel and hippie out in me.

    1. Love you big man. Us Rebels and old hippies have to stick together If change is to be possible. Keep hope alive.

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