Relative Something

*this* John W. Hays' take on things and experiences

Posts Tagged ‘optimism

Future History

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Our favorite network, PBS, has offered up a gem of a new series that Cyndie and I are really appreciating. “A Brief History of the Future” hosted by renowned futurist Ari Wallach, presented me with a wonderful opportunity for reframing right from the very start.

What kind of world is presented in the majority of movies about the future? If it’s not entirely apocalyptic, it tends to be overcrowded, polluted, and generally scary. If that is the only way we envision the future, we are likely to doom ourselves to achieve it.

What kind of future world would we like to live in? That is the one we should be envisioning.

“This series challenges the dystopian framework embraced by popular culture by offering a refreshing take on the future. The docuseries asks us all: how can we become the great ancestors the future needs us to be? “A Brief History of the Future” weaves together history, science, and unexpected ideas to expand our understanding about the impact that the choices we make today will have on our tomorrows.

Each episode follows those who are working to solve our greatest challenges. The series also features valuable insights from a wide range of thinkers, scientists, developers and storytellers including French President Emmanuel Macron, U.S. Secretary of Transportation Pete Buttigieg, U.S. Surgeon General Vivek Murthy, sailor Dame Ellen MacArthur, musician Grimes, architect Bjarke Ingels, climate scientist Katharine Hayhoe, legendary soccer player Kylian Mbappé, and more.”

Even though we are currently living in a climate crisis –admittedly the primary doom I allow to color my impressions of what humankind will be coping with from now until forever– some ideas for possible constructive solutions provide hope that a worst-case scenario is not a guaranteed outcome.

I’ve already taken steps to create the possibility of a giant maple tree someday standing as a stoic natural canopy over our 70-foot diameter labyrinth. I like to imagine what it might look like in a hundred years if the tree we transplanted to the center of the labyrinth survives to a healthy old age.

The increased diameter of the trunk will have forced some adjustments to the path and rocks at that point, I presume. By the time that begins to become an issue, it will be someone else’s challenge to address. I will be long gone. Unless the antidote to aging has been invented before I pass, that is.

Take a look at the preview below for a taste of what the episodes explore. I hope you will feel inspired…

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Written by johnwhays

April 12, 2024 at 6:00 am

Small Difference

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Life is not as bad as it seems, and rarely as good as we might perceive. Frankly, I have this peculiar notion that the difference between best and worst outcomes is a much narrower range than we are groomed to believe.

There are abundant examples of both good and bad situations simultaneously playing out all over the world through the course of history. Sometimes they are occurring on opposite sides of the globe, but in varying degrees of intensity, good and bad things can happen in the very same place, even at the same time.

I’ve noticed in myself an increasing susceptibility to waves of gloom over news about the state of our planet and about the state of democracy. Each new report is picking up and adding to my gloom from the day before.

I have yet to master the same art for the news of good things in the world. I can’t seem to get the happy stories to compound into greater joy with each successive telling.

In my reality, the gap between the two is small, so resolving the discrepancy doesn’t need to be some Herculean effort. In the grand scheme of things, nurturing the positive is a very “do-able” feat.

Last night, Cyndie and I watched Carrie Fisher‘s “Wishful Drinking (2010) documentary one-woman show based on her memoir. Obviously, it triggered something that got me thinking about good and bad, and mental health. 

Hearing the way Carrie told her stories gave me the impression that she was a writer, which, in fact, she was. Maybe that is one reason the show resonated for me as much as it did. Of course, I am also a sucker for stories of recovery and self discovery.

A lot of her life stories sounded bad, although she delivered them with a dose of humor, and glimpses of moments that were good. I thought, we could all probably make our stories into a show like this. The difference however, is that hers comes across as something of an inside joke which we are all in on, because her life as a daughter of two celebrities and her iconic acting role in the movie “Star Wars” are public knowledge.

We hear her stories of situations we already know about, only from the actual inside perspective.

That aspect wouldn’t exist with my one-man show based on my non-celebrity memoir.

After the movie, I came downstairs from our loft and spotted this:

Really? Cyndie bakes amazing chocolate chip cookies on Tuesday, and a night later, pulls out some Oreos to eat instead.

I look at that picture, and all I see is good right next to bad.

In my perspective as a person seeking to manage a sugar addiction, the difference between the two is actually small.

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Written by johnwhays

May 24, 2018 at 6:00 am

Reality Shoes

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There is a challenge with being a positive person. It’s called, reality. Reality has two feet. Sometimes two left feet. Reality is the reason for the phrase, “waiting for the other shoe to drop.” The other shoe always does.

Now, if a positive person were somehow able to wield enough favorable influence over outcomes, the dropping of that other shoe of reality might always be a really great thing. In my experience, the world doesn’t work that way, so all an optimist can do is choose a way to find some good in whatever shows up when that other shoe lands.

The battle might be seen as a tug of war between the Pollyanna principle and depressive realism. As a former depressive living ‘in recovery’ —with optimism being my sobriety— I find myself needing to overcome an unconscious tendency to grab hold of gloomy reality when it steps into my life. I will grasp it a bit too tightly, which allows it to lead my astray, pulling me away from the fresh air of the glad game that I have been breathing.

DSCN2714eYesterday, while walking Delilah through the drainage ditch beside our fields, we found the horses grazing up on a high spot, exposed to the wind. It surprised me, because it wasn’t a particularly warm breeze, but there they were. We were moving slowly, as I allowed Delilah to ravenously explore to her heart’s desire. The horses showed interest in our arrival.

As we slowly made our way along the ditch, they followed at an unhurried pace, closing the distance to the fence. It’s not always clear whether one horse in particular is setting their course, or they all share the same interest when they move like this. I wanted to respond to their approach by doing the same, but the electric fence was on, so I didn’t.

Eventually, Delilah and I reached the end of the ditch by the road, where there is a gate. I leaned on the gate and paused. Hunter had traveled the farthest along with us, but it was Cayenne who then approached me at the fence. We shared a magical few minutes of intimacy there, sharing breath and mystical energy.

I don’t know why.

When Cyndie got home, late, after a hard day, at the end of her hard week, I got a dose of reality. I grabbed it tight. It woke me early in the darkness of hours that are best spent sleeping. I followed it as it led me where I know I don’t want to go. Then I thought of that experience with Cayenne.

It was real.

The other stuff, not so much.

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Idea Buffet

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IMG_iP0667eThere are often times when I will share a thought or a comment with Cyndie and she will respond that I should make a blog post about it. A comment does not a blog post make.

Maybe if I string together a few of them, I’ll have something.

Yesterday, I was cleaning the paddocks while the horses were out grazing. In the morning, I had opened the gate to the area just outside the paddock, but left the arena closed until after I had given them their late-afternoon feed. Suddenly, Legacy came from the arena into the paddock, alone, and approached me. I paused for a moment to acknowledge him, and then returned to scooping up manure. He closed the gap and stood real close. I silently received his intimate presence.

After I again returned to my task, he deposited a pile of fresh manure for me, lingered a moment, then walked back out to graze. I told Cyndie that it felt to me as if he had come specifically to thank me for opening up the arena for them. The fresh pile was a secondary gift.

I am a regular Google news headline reader. I rarely bother with the links to full articles in avoidance of the frustrating ad windows and register-to-read situations that too often result. Some of the headlines can be real groaners, a few too many scream out, “Be AFRAID! All is Lost! Doom and Gloom!” Then there are those that shamelessly tease, leading on, but cutting short with an ellipsis, ending before giving…

Being a contrarian and an occasional optimist, I told Cyndie I created a game where I strike out key words of the gloomy, fear-inducing headlines and replace them with something more inspiring.

U.S. officials fear radicalized citizens will carry out lone-wolf terror plots” becomes, “U.S. officials fear hope radicalized everyday citizens will carry out lone-wolf individual terror peace plots initiatives.” Film at 11:00.

Recently, I have been listening to Leon and Mary Russell’s “Wedding Album” and in particular, the song, Lavender Blue (Dilly Dilly). Their interpretation of this song includes the lyrics: “The longer we live —dilly dilly— the more love we know.” That really resonates for me, because each time I encounter new love, it feels fresh, invigorating, unique.

From that, the thought occurred to me that ‘hate’ never feels new. It is the same damn hate, over and over —from the time I was the target of hate as a little kid, spewed from a teenager who I was surprised even noticed I existed, to the homophobic/racist/misogynistic/religious zealot extremists making headlines today. Hate may spread, but it is never new. It’s the same stale hatred that it has always been.

Thank you. Now go forth and spread some new love with a bit of contrarian optimism yourselves. See if you can get people to…

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Written by johnwhays

September 4, 2014 at 6:00 am