I don’t know about you, but I always feel better after the Imbolc. You know about the Imbolc, right? That’s the threshold between the winter solstice and the vernal equinox – the point when there’s finally enough daylight for plants to begin to grow. This year, it was February 1st.
In the Gaelic tradition, Imbolc is a time for celebration. It’s a national holiday in Ireland. But in America, it gets lost somewhere around Valentine’s Day and Presidents’ Day weekend. It matters in nature, though. Our friends who farm up the road say that while there’s a long way to go until spring, Imbolc means that the balance is tipping toward growth.
Makes you feel hopeful, right?
And then, just 10 days after the Imbolc, we marked the lunar new year. So we have just started the Year of the Dragon. Good news there, too: The dragon is the most powerful symbol in the 12-year cycle observed by Asian societies. The Year of the Dragon is said to be often challenging, yes, but it ultimately brings auspicious opportunities and exciting advancements.
That kind of an optimistic outlook is mighty welcome, because Americans these days are more grouchy than usual. The Marist Poll recently noted that the national outlook for 2024 is more pessimistic than any time in the last six years.
And that’s surprising, in a way. Optimism has been a defining characteristic of Americans since the first Europeans landed here in the 17th century. In the 19th century, Alexis de Tocqueville, the Frenchman who traveled the country, noted that citizens on this side of the Atlantic, as he put it, “have all a lively faith in the perfectibility of man ... They all consider society as a body in a state of improvement.”
That’s what de Tocqueville said. Then, at the beginning of this century, the Irish philosopher Charles Handy retraced de Tocqueville’s steps, and reported finding the same spirit. He wrote, “Anyone visiting America from Europe cannot fail to be struck by the energy, enthusiasm, and confidence in their country’s future that he or she will meet among ordinary Americans – a pleasing contrast to the world-weary cynicism of much of Europe.” (2:05)
But Charles Handy wrote in 2001. Consider what happened next. We experienced the national trauma of 9/11, followed by ugly wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, then the Great Recession, years of relentless gun violence, life-threatening climate change, a pandemic with its economic outfall, and political decay fomented by the right-wing takeover of one of our major political parties, and a truly dangerous American president. It has been a tough couple of decades.
Now we are told over and over again by politicians that things are bleak in America, and even if we recognize the self-serving origin of that rhetoric, it can’t help but affect us. (2:45)
No wonder we’re less likely to display that old-fashioned confidence in the future. Today is much darker than what we had expected at the dawning of the Age of Aquarius.
And yet in some important ways, this could be the best time in human history to be alive – a fact that you might think would inspire more confidence. Consider: the rapid advance of scientific knowledge is creating a more comfortable and equitable world, with more life-saving breakthroughs on the near horizon. If the perils that we face seem more threatening, the capacity we have to confront them is also greater.
It would be good for us to step away from our negativity, you know, because science tells us that an optimistic outlook makes people healthier and more productive. Optimism motivates us. Research has found that people who are optimistic have reduced risk of cardiovascular disease, reduced likelihood of cognitive impairment, lower levels of pain and even better romantic lives. Optimistic people tend to work harder, which makes them more productive and more financially secure.
So if we want America to be healthier, richer and happier, we need to grow our hope again. We need to be, in fact, those indomitable citizens observed by de Tocqueville and mythologized by generations of historians and politicians.
Turns out, that doesn’t always happen naturally. Yes, we feel more hopeful when we have success or good luck. But psychologists say that hope comes to us mostly the same way that an addict finds sobriety: one day at a time. A day of hope is created by putting together several hours of it, and days lead to weeks and months.
Yes, some folks are more innately more hopeful than others. Some research suggests that perhaps one-fourth of the optimism people feel is actually inherited. But most of us develop hope by consciously embracing and practicing it, until it become a habitual response. We’re almost always more resilient than we imagine.
Hope is, in the end, a tool. We need to have it to use it, and we can then use it to power ourselves forward, as individuals and a society. That is, if we are to have any chance of overcoming the forces that would drag us down — like cynical politicians, selfish fraudsters and sharpies and the inescapable tough events of life that confront us from time to time, ranging from health challenges to the loss of loved ones.
For now, we might take some measure of hope from this moment of Imbolc: the world is turning brighter, and the cycle of life is renewing even in our more frigid neighborhoods. It is, after all, a step toward the inevitable coming of spring. One day at a time, hope returns.
So: Happy Year of the Dragon: may it bring you inspiration and strength.
Rex Smith, the co-host of The Media Project on WAMC, is the former editor of the Times Union of Albany and The Record in Troy. His weekly digital report, The Upstate American, is published by Substack.
The views expressed by commentators are solely those of the authors. They do not necessarily reflect the views of this station or its management.