Notes of Hope
By Juliet Marillier | February 17, 2025 |
These are challenging times. There’s the political and societal crisis that is rolling out second by second before our collectively horrified eyes. I live in Australia, which is geographically distant from the USA, but I’m well aware that this ripples (or gushes?) out to affect the whole of the globe, my part of it included. Alongside that, war, death and destruction continue around the world. Racism, hatred and division play out on the streets, even here. And let’s not forget climate change, which is well and truly with us now, underlining the failure of many world leaders to take timely and decisive action. Humankind: we are our own worst enemies, and sadly it would appear that we are intent on destroying, not only ourselves, but this beautiful world and all its living things along with us.
That was not the most positive way to start a post about writing. But even as those horrifying developments unfold, I hear voices speaking out in hope. I see poems and essays and opinion pieces of remarkable wisdom, perception and courage. As a writer, you have the powerful tool of your voice. Note my choice of the word tool rather than weapon – I prefer not to cast this as a fight. But it is a battle of sorts, requiring bravery, stamina and skill. Words can indeed be powerful weapons for good or evil.
I’m writing this in company with fellow authors, sharing a table in a public library – we have become good at blocking out the exuberant voices of preschool children attending the regular story hour. In fact, their enjoyment of the bright and welcoming library and of storytelling gives us heart. As for our Write Club meetings, they are of immense value – it’s amazing how heartening it can be simply to work in silence alongside one’s peers. Today I intended to get on with the final chapters of my current work in progress, the sequel to my soon-to-be-released adult fantasy novel, The Amber Owl. But those world events continued to whirl around in my brain, a far greater distraction than the laughter of children. Earlier, I had been wondering how I could summon my usual words of hope for this post, with the world seemingly headed for hell in a handbasket at remarkable speed.
Then, last night, something clicked into place. It was the first rehearsal of the year for our small local choir, after a long break over the summer school holidays. I do love to sing; in the past, music was a major part of my professional life. And we’d been sent some exciting new pieces to learn, so I anticipated an enjoyable evening. What I didn’t expect was a strong reminder of how good singing is for us, both physically and mentally – a real workout for body and mind. I came home tired, but feeling positive, hopeful, thinking of beauty and peace and how important it is to speak up on behalf of what we believe in. What were we singing to inspire this? In particular, a setting of the beautiful Leonora Speyer poem, Measure Me, Sky, by composer Victor C Johnson. You can find it on YouTube, along with at least two other choral settings of the same poem. The text was perfect to bring my mind into balance, to change confusion and distress to an awareness that we need to stand up and be counted, to speak out and be heard, and never to lose sight of what is good and beautiful in the world around us. To quote a character in my novel, who is in turn quoting a verse learned from her grandmother: The sun gleams on the still pool. I, too, will hold the light. Another character reminds himself of his father’s mantra: Hold the balance.
Maybe, for you, the magic won’t come through music. Maybe you will be reading something inspiring (like Speyer’s poem) or hearing someone speak out with courage (as Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde does.) Watching children play; reading someone a story. Walking in wild nature or strolling under the trees in your neighbourhood park. Witnessing or performing an act of kindness. Swimming, held safe in the embrace of the water. Meditating. Painting a picture. Or, of course, writing. I wish you joy in whatever you do. I urge you to keep your writer’s voice alive, and with it hope. In times of darkness, hold the light.
Writers, what inspires you to keep going in dark times? How will you hold the light?
What music, or writing, do you return to for inspiration, courage and positivity?
Juliet Marillier has written twenty-four novels for adults and young adults and two collections of short fiction. Her works of historical fantasy have been published around the world and have won numerous awards. Juliet’s most recent series was Warrior Bards, of which the third and final book, A Song of Flight, was published in 2021. Her collection of reimagined fairy tales, Mother Thorn and Other Tales of Courage and Kindness, had its trade release in 2022. Mother Thorn is illustrated by Kathleen Jennings and published by Serenity Press.
Juliet is currently working on a two-book fantasy series. The first book in this duology, The Amber Owl, will be published by New Dawn in February 2025.
When not writing, Juliet looks after a small crew of rescue dogs.
“In times of darkness, hold the light.” So beautiful, so necessary. I’d like to add: hold the light in all times, dark times and times of light. For there may one person, even in lighten times, for who the light hasn’t reached.
“How far that little candle throws its beam.”
Lovely quote, Anjali! You’re so right, there is always someone who needs the light.
“Maybe you will be reading something inspiring (like Speyer’s poem) or hearing someone speak out with courage…”
Yes, and yes, both in the same gorgeous novel. One I was very lucky to get before it releases, and read just when I desperately needed a story exactly like it turned out to be. I can’t wait to help you share the comforting, inspiring, and heartening work you’re about to share in the form of The Amber Owl (one week from today, folks!).
Thank you for continuing to feed the flame of hope, Juliet. This was the perfect way to start a (here, bitterly cold) midwinter’s week.
I’m slow to respond to the comments this time around – I blame the time difference! Thanks so much for your wonderful feedback on The Amber Owl, Vaughn! I am hoping folks around the world get to read it in due course.
We have baking hot summer, complete with both fire and flood, to your freezing winter, but we all need that flame of hope.
Juliet, I knew your words would shine some light. On this globe where we spin in space, your seasons are in reverse to mine, yet your words are solid and something to cling to. The written word might save us in the end. It takes villages of writing, singing, creating art to keep this globe steady on its path. Thank You.
Thank you for the comment, Beth! I was at choir practice again last night and again, went home in a much better state of mind. Long live the arts!
I am nearly done rereading LOTR for the umpteenth time, something I like to do in late winter. As always, I see so many elements in these tales that perfectly echo our times, reminding me that we humans have been engaged in a circular struggle. Or maybe it’s a spiral and we are rising a little higher with each iteration. Tolkien, among so many others, yourself included, also reminds me that from great pain, great beauty can come. Your post lifted me, Juliet. Because while may people out there are using words as weapons, we writers can use them as tools. Is a sword a weapon or a wand?
Great to hear from you, Susan. Wise words as usual!
Thanks for this, Juliet. Everyone I know (online, at least) is writing furiously about the situation in which we all find ourselves. Solutions! Complaints. Dirges. And hundreds of variations on “I told you so, you morons.” I am annoyed at my lack of a pulpit, my lack of troops to command, and, most of all, my lack of time. I’m getting older. How can I save the day if I have trouble weeding the garden?
But you have reminded me that there is one thing I might be able to leave behind me. I still have plenty of time (knock on wood) to write a clever and useful novel that might help make the future a better place. Also it has to be funny. I don’t know how I’m going to do that, so I guess I’ll start organizing my remaining brain cells.
I value all of you here at WU more than ever, you know.
You will do it, Michael. I share those concerns about the brain cells as I grow older – my hair is completely white these days. But although processes are a bit slower, everything still seems to be working. Looking forward to that novel of yours. (Maybe get up and walk around singing between writing sessions?)
Juliet, it’s wonderful that you are singing! Music is such a gift. We had a very intense Sat. coaching session for our barbershop chorus and it was so much fun being with my singing sisters for the whole day. I learned a lot, too. I attended an online writing conference the first weekend in Feb. and still haven’t caught up but it was exactly what I needed to start submitting again. Hope reigns eternal. Peace and joy to you!
Yay for the barbershop chorus! That must have been an excellent day. Peace and joy back to you.
Beautiful post, Juliet. The other afternoon, I was lost in watching two young boys (one Black, the other White, incidentally) pulling a sled up the small hill of snow made by a snowplow in the parking lot across the street and riding it back down — all 15 feet of it. Over and over. Not much of a sledding hill, but it was what they had. No screens. No cell phones. Racism? Political power-seizing? Not in their world. In my writing and daily life, I feel honor-bound to affirm that joy.
BTW, I have family in Australia. My cousin sends me articles and editorials from newspapers Down Under giving the Aussie take on the goings-on in the US — and by extension, the world. You guys nailed it! We are all in serious trouble.
Christine, that is a beautiful story (all the better for being true.) We need to keep noticing those signe of hope.
As for news coverage here – elements of our press are pretty biased, but we have some good news sources and there is deep concern about the international situation. It has ramifications for us all. (I wrote some more and deleted it, deciding to keep politics out of this conversation!)
This post is beautiful, Juliet, and Measure Me, Sky is powerful medicine–as is your own writing.
“The sun gleams on the still pool. I, too, will hold the light.”
This idea is a poignant complement with this year’s UnConference theme (Keepers of the Flame). And “hold the balance” gives it all a richer texture.
Thanks so much for sharing your wise words, Juliet. They’re always appreciated but especially so today.
Oh yes – I had forgotten that was the UnConference theme. I hope the event will be full of light!
Thank you for sharing beautiful words of hope! It is a terrible thing to live without hope, and it hurts my heart to see people in that place. Having struggled with severe mental illness in the past, I am quite familiar with it.
Several years ago a read a book by Andrew Newberg called Word Can Change Your Brain. I’m just going to paraphrase when I remember, and probably badly, so if you want the cited studies and such, you’ll have to go there. The book pointed out that for survival reasons, we are more likely to notice negative things in our lives. It also explained that as you notice more and more negative things, your brain physically changes and it becomes even easier for you to notice the negative and not see the positive. They have done studies and have found a physical difference in the brain structure of people who are more negative. The opposite is also true–as you become more positive, your brain will physically change and you will start noticing the positive much more.
Recently, I’d realized just how negative of an outlook I have on life, and I decided to see if I could basically brute-force rewire my brain to be more positive. Every day, I would set a half hour timer that I repeated throughout the entire day, and when the timer went off, I’d think of ten positive things and then go back to whatever it was I was doing. It wasn’t long before I started to realize just how many positive things there are in the world that I was missing!
There is a lot of good in the world, but I feel like especially right now, it takes effort to see it. But it is worth the effort to find that hope! Hope is a beautiful place to live!
Thanks for this, Erin! It sounds as if that approach might work well for some people, though the idea of brute-forcing your brain into positivity sounds kind of back to front … but if it helped, great! I hope you find an opportunity to get back into singing. I had quite a long break from it, then joined this choir with some reservations, but it’s turned out to be an excellent move. All the best to you.
Oops, forget that comment about singing (except to add that it is really, really good for your state of mind and body!) I was confusing two comments there.
What a wonderful, inspirational piece, Juliet. We do need to focus on joy and light and whatever can keep us centered in this awful time. Like you, music, has always been something that fed my spirit. I used to play guitar and sing in contemporary church choirs, and also was part of more traditional choirs. The messages in the lyrics of hymns and songs can be so beautiful and I really miss that. When my kids were little we’d dance to the songs of Agape, as well as some American folk singers. No matter who had been fussing with whom, or how overwhelmed I felt with the custodial responsibilities of a house full of kids, the music and dancing wiped all the negative energy away.
Thanks for this reminder and the sweet memories.
Thank you for this, Maryann. Your comment conjured up some wonderful images for me – imagining you and your kids singing and dancing joyfully! Do you still sing with a choir or group? I went back to it after a long break, and it has been wonderful.
Reconsider
broken spider web at the window
long twisted to a single line
swings in the breeze
a pendulum of warmer days
watch the rain slow down
birds return to the feeder
deer to seed on the ground
the Cardinal hugs the top of a bell
feasting believing
all will be well
did I just hear the Crow?
returning is hard in the rain and wind
Reconsider — I hear him say
pray I can float through
another day
I see light on the horizon
it is about to turn
my wings are threadbare
as I try to follow
land on my feet
full with joy love and peace.
A beautiful poem, Jenny, and so apt. Thank you for sharing!