How is it that my incessantly worrying mind, unable to desist obsessing over the many tragedies of our current era, can still unfailingly manage to formulate a sense of hopeful optimism?
The life of peace and meaning I wish upon the people of the world makes it impossible to ignore the impediments preventing those lives of dignity. Many of the impediments are traceable to the drive for massive profits no matter the immoral consequences. Political and corporate machinations cannot be subtracted from calculating the causes and costs of the decimation of nature, the dual isolation and divisiveness of our (un)civil social fabric, the purposeful marketing of addictive drugs that have lead to a crisis of depravity and death, and on an on.
I am not naive, and I do not shrink from the facts of despair.
So, how does this equate to hopefulness approaching serenity in certainty of the possibility of positive change?
Unflinching logic suggests that, fast careening into flames of folly, the masses of humanity are ripe for a profound awakening. Beset as we are, there exists the possibility that our survival instinct will a elicit collective commitment to voluntary actions aimed at restoration. That the meek will inherit the earth, upon realizing that we are the many who are able to save it.
Last night here in mid Michigan the moon was an absolute wonder. Formerly the finest of the bright, a healing and holy light. It shines upon us still, and can awaken the deep wonder needed to fuel the care, faith, humility, and dedication required of us to enable needed change. It could be simple in content, though massive in scale and action. Staunch the flow of poison, restore the rivers and roots, construct our surroundings so the view of the moon is screened by more branches than walls. Idealism the final balance of these devastatingly heavy costs.