Hope only makes sense when it doesn’t make sense to be hopeful.
When I first read this speech, I was in a place of great uncertainty. My health was failing, I was seriously struggling academically for the first time in my life, and I was 3000 miles away from many of the people I love most dearly. Hawken’s words were earth-shattering and life-changing. They resonate with me each and every time they come to mind. (I encourage everyone to read his words as the quote above is just a tiny sample of the way words can move mountains by speaking to one soul at a time.)
As an environmentalist (and humanist), his speech refers most directly to our relationship with the environment, but it certainly doesn’t end there. In fact, it barely begins there. When asked whether he is optimistic or pessimistic about the future (specifically of the natural world), he responds that a scientist can’t help but to be pessimistic when given the data. However, a human being can’t help but see the abundance of “ordinary people willing to confront despair, power, and incalculable odds in order to restore some semblance of grace, justice, and beauty to this world.”
In the last few years – and more specifically the last year – the data about my future has been pummeling my spirit to the ground. It is incredibly difficult – and nearly damned-well impossible – to hear about my failing systems and what I have to look forward to in the future without losing all hope. To hear that these continued sustained infections are not compatible with life. To be disappointed each and every time you make a plan and have to cancel. To awake upon a new day and find that you feel absolutely no better than you did just twelve hours before. And indeed one does become hopeless. It only makes sense when given the data. Luckily, it doesn’t end there; humanity gives endless hope when reality attempts to strip it away.
There is a shelf in my living room where hope collects like dust. Over the last twelve months, I feel shame that the shell of my former self has found such difficulty in expressing just how dearly I appreciate the love, care, and hope that has come my way, but please know that the cards, pictures, books, jewelry, pillow cases, balloons, and tokens of love serve as a daily and fervent reminder that hope is most definitely worth having. Especially when it doesn’t make sense.
Still Miles to Go 