Plot Twist: Hope Must Lead Us Into 2025

Manifesting a crucial emotion I’ve recently been lacking.

Jan 16, 2025

Let us sum up 2024 in words, shall we? That’s what we all get to do in the inevitable months of December to January. Reflection can be a pleasant exercise or a bitter swallow, depending on the year. What words come to mind for you, personally or in a general sense?

Unpredictable. Disappointing. Maddening, maybe?

Well, it’s difficult to summarize such a complicated 365 days. The majority of my year was indeed tumultuous which explains the more downtrodden descriptors provided. The goal is to select words that genuinely represent the entire span, and I just can’t justify the use of any positive adjective right now.

Am I still reeling this intensely over America’s political dumpsterfire? November did pack a punch, but isn’t it about time for me to get back up?

The other day, I wandered into a Barnes and Noble just to look.

Well, that day I came across a book on the table in the front titled Hope for Cynics by Jamil Zaki. No, I did not purchase it. I have far too many unread books acquired on a whim from over five years ago piling up in my bedroom that I’ve barely cracked open. But this one felt like it might have been something I needed to see. Even just reading the front and back cover was encouraging enough to inspire a sort of revelation.

“Cynicism is an understandable response to a world full of injustice and inequality. But in many cases, it is misplaced. Dozens of studies find that people fail to realize how kind, generous, and open-minded others really are. Cynical thinking deepens social problems: when we expect the worst in people, we often bring it out of them.”

It’s honesty time. My cynicism is unproductive. Whether it’s valid for me to feel the way I feel about 2024, it’s not a headspace for where I’d prefer to remain paralyzed. As someone who strives to use my words to bring the best out of people, I can’t stay fixated on the deplorables that society has to offer. They will never be my audience.

Twenty-twenty-four may have tested my faith in humanity however, believe it or not, I also experienced some decade highlights. It was a year that I put myself out there in unique and unlikely ways. I participated in my first poetry reading — and then I participated in four more. I was selected for the WIP 2024 Creative Economy cohort and applied for a sizeable grant. I also began to submit my newly finished manuscript(s) to publishers and awards.

I’m not quite sure what was holding me back from sending out my work to professionals before this year, but I'm proud of myself for having the confidence to take my writing to the next level. However, I naively thought I had sufficiently prepared myself enough for the realities of beginning this journey. As expected, I faced a lot of rejection. While that expectation did not soften any of the blows, it possibly thickened my skin a bit. Onward to the next rejection letter, please!

The high point of my year was in August when I performed for a live audience — not my poetry, but live music — for the first time since high school choir, as a background singer for a Taylor Swift Tribute concert. I shared the stage with my two sisters as my loving partner was sitting front row. I’m not at all ashamed to say it was one of the most memorable moments of my life.

There’s something to be said about maintaining a connection with the art that brought you joy during adolescence. Don’t let anyone tell you it’s cringe or immature. Fuck it. It’s good for the soul.

We couldn’t afford tickets to the real Era’s tour, so being included in this production meant everything to us. The musicians we connected with were some amazing people. The band has been asked back to make this event an annual thing, and apparently, that invitation includes us.

Drawing closer to the colder months brought on some unexpected physical and mental health complications. Unfortunately, I had to focus on feeling better as opposed to writing new material. Still, I managed to publish one more article this year than I did in 2023 (not that numbers should matter so much, but it’s interesting to note.)

Despite this lack of content, I was able to debut my newsletter, Eternal Metamorphosis, on Substack in September. It is an ever-evolving extension of a project I’ve been working to find my footing with for the past five years. I aim to foster a safe space for survivors to read and engage with trauma-informed art and encourage emerging artists to heal by raising their unique creative voices. I’ve gained more subscribers in a few short months on Substack than in the past few years I spent on Medium, which is an exciting beginning.

So, was it really all that hopeless, then? This year I learned that I am capable of things — like performing fearlessly on stage, at open mics, and on a virtual platform in front of strangers — that I wouldn’t have thought possible earlier in my life. The silly dreams I imagined as a child actually can happen. So why limit myself? Why shouldn’t I continue to reach further?

Can I extend this personal epiphany to my cynicism about society at large?

In December when I visited my family, my youngest sister Abigail, who is now growing into her early twenties, confided in me about a problem at work she was struggling with that required her to communicate with management and HR. As her big sister who’s experienced a handful of these stressful meetings, I rushed to help her. My intention was to advise her of what potential obstacles to scan for, but I led with one simplistic idea: Never trust anyone at work.

She didn’t hesitate to tell me that often the wisdom I attempt to impart to her, like a warning from a doomsday theorist, is not always helpful.

She told me, “I need to have hope right now.”

When revealed in the wrong moment, even a well-intended truth can make one feel pre-defeated — which is the complete opposite of my purpose. Abigail is a fighter. She’s headstrong, and proving herself to be a hardworking and kindhearted person despite obstacles at almost every turn.

We need more people like her. She must not be deterred. Certainly not by me, of all people!

I appreciate her for this wake-up call. What am I doing if not motivating the people around me to find their voices and stand up for what’s right, no matter what backlash may come?

In November, I wrote a piece focused on commiserating about perpetual hope burnout after the devastating results of the election. It was inspired by the feeling that I have been hopeful and then disappointed, hopeful and then heartbroken, hopeful and then spiraling off and on for a good portion of my life. I needed a moment to shake my fist at the sky, but that moment is taking a while to pass.

Maybe it sounds like the definition of insanity, but science says that to lose this hope would be worse than if I were to only expect disappointment every time.

Do I have hope for myself? I must lead with yes right now. Because what if? What if I miss out on everything because I’m frozen by “harsh truths” about publishing, about society, about healthcare, and about humanity?

My small audience may expand and it may not, but how will I know if I do not continue on my mission? My work might not be what they’re looking for, but I haven’t shown it to everyone yet. Society might be in a rough spot, so we need to move.

How do we propose to change anything while we camp out in the belief that we’re helpless? Even if we’re right and it’s all impossible, taking action is the only solution to any problem. These are the phrases I will need to repeat to myself all of 2025, whether I fully believe in them or not.

But I know I’m not alone in this. We can all restore our hope. We can because we must. Don’t think of the logistics, just try something small. And then another thing. And then, look at us go!

To quote one of my favorite Christmas Specials, “Put one foot in front of the other.”

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Plot Twist: Hope Must Lead Us Into 2025

Manifesting a crucial emotion I’ve recently been lacking.

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