Instead of waiting around for hope ...
Why not create it together?
Of all the obligatory holiday greetings, “Happy New Year!” is the one I love the most. I’ll say it with a big grin to neighbors on the street, whisper it while hugging a friend, and include it in emails well past its use-by date. I love its simplicity and hopefulness — a sweet, secular wish we can all get behind.
Except, this year, I’ve noticed myself pausing.
I’ve been sending emails without those three words. Instead of declaring, I’m asking — letting a question mark say more than I do. Happy New Year?
... Is it? Are we okay?
In some ways, the past week feels like a variation on other Januarys we’ve lived through: a rapid unfolding of horrors right after the sleepy holiday break. The dissonance is so quick, so upsetting, so difficult to comprehend that it makes it hard to breathe.
As much as I want to feel optimistic about the year ahead, I’m finding it tough. It’s hard to feel hopeful when things seem so bleak. And although I know — we all know — that both things can be true, that I can nurture hope while also accepting the reality of the world around me, I’m finding it increasingly difficult to hold two things at once when the weight of one is so damn heavy.
Sometimes, I have to set that weight down. I have to log off. Tune out. Let my mind wander somewhere else. I set out to find the goodness in the world — something I can usually find on a long walk, or while catching up with a friend, or most definitely while pretending with my child.
I feel relieved — for a while. But it doesn’t take long for that question mark to creep back in.
... Is the world good? Are we okay?
I can’t remember exactly which terrible events were unfolding back in September, but I do know I was feeling an even heavier version of what I’m feeling today. I shared in the newsletter about how trying to take in bleak national and international news left me feeling lost, stuck in a dense fog of sadness.
“I’m still finding my way out of that fog,” I wrote. “I’m trying to untangle where my worries about the world end and my personal troubles begin.”
Ultimately, I gave myself permission to sit with the sadness for a bit. Instead of trying to manufacture my own hopeful conclusion, I turned to you — my readers:
“If you’re feeling hopeful — about anything, for any reason at all — would you mail it to me? I would love to hold onto those reasons. I would love to read your handwriting, see your photos, admire your drawings, appreciate whatever little glimmers of hope you are brave and bold and kind enough to share.”
Friends, this was one of the best things I did last year. For months, I received missives of hope: letters and postcards and drawings — even the word hope itself. Each piece of mail bolstered me. Your notes reminded me how much the little things matter, and how even the smallest gestures (say, writing and sending a quick postcard) can be surprisingly big. I felt, and continue to feel, more hopeful about the state of our world because I have proof of how thoughtful, kind, and generous people can be.
And now, I want to pass along that gift to all of you.
I’m excited to announce the My Sweet Dumb Brain Hope-Mail Exchange: a sweet, simple experiment in connection and kindness. If you sign up, my editor Becca and I will match you with another reader, and you’ll each send one piece of hope-mail to the other (or more than one, if you wish!).
You could send a letter, a postcard, a drawing, a trinket — anything that captures what brings you hope or happiness in your own life. Remember: the personal is universal. Something small that makes you smile is worth sharing. It just might make someone else smile, too.
This exchange is just for paid subscribers, and participation is entirely optional. If you’re not yet a paid subscriber, I hope this perk will convince you to give it a try! (It’s not a significant commitment: You can subscribe at the $5/month level, join the exchange, and cancel your subscription if you want.)
If you’re one of the many people looking for a more analogue year, this is a lovely way to get some practice. Get off screens! Get actual mail! Get a reminder that other people are looking for connection — and hope — just like you!
A common criticism of hope is that it’s passive; that people just wait around for things to magically change. It’s a valid critique. And it’s exactly why I love this approach.
This isn’t about sitting back and hoping things will feel better. It’s about doing something. It’s about choosing to participate. Making a connection. Allowing yourself to be a little vulnerable, a little creative, a little seen. It’s about putting something kind and good into the world — and trusting it will land with another kind, good human who might really need it.
You can learn more — and sign up — below. The sign-up form covers the information we’ll need from you and how the process will work.