Planet Hope

May God give you the grace

never to sell yourself short,

the grace to risk something big

for something good,

and grace to remember

that the world is too dangerous

for anything but truth

and too small for anything but love.

-William Sloane Coffin Jr.

Fear, anxiety, overwhelm and worry predominate human thought and consciousness as we enter 2026, akin to the months before the global pandemic appeared just six years ago.

Rather than collectively bracing for worst case scenarios, perhaps our energies would be better directed toward welcoming and embracing change, knowing it will take time to heal and restore damaged places, communities, nations, and the earth itself.

Practicing greater discernment and detachment, along with remaining grounded and positive are crucial skills to hone and strengthen in these times. Thankfully, nature connection abounds with opportunities to do this, no matter where our feet are.

More information, doom scrolling and social media interactions will not extricate us from our current circumstances. Yet pathways forward are always in our midst, calling us to use our intuition, instincts, and often lesser-used senses to emerge beyond this manmade fog.

About two weeks ago, an ominous, dense layer of frozen fog rolled into Missoula at daybreak, persisting well into the early afternoon.

The view from my office window, normally a portal into the larger world most days, was shrouded by fog so thick you couldn’t see more than ten feet in any direction. Most motorists had their low beam lights on that day, driving down the street more slowly, ready to brake suddenly or take other actions on the fly.

The fog layer thickened further. The world outside evoked a grimy urban street scene from a Dickens novel, or a scare-the-shit-out-of-you “Twilight” moment when vampires lunged out of nowhere to claim another victim.

I still had a appointment across town to get to, and decided to drive a different, slower route there and back. Switching into naturalist guiding mode, I paid greater attention to my surroundings than usual, vigilant for subtle changes and cues in others’ actions, and people driving with no headlights on.

I arrived home without incident, and by two p.m. the fog finally dissipated, revealing a teal winter sky tinted by the low angle of the January sun. I noticed what had been previously overlooked and obscured for most of the day-encircling and towering over the fog the entire time was a vast, much larger world ripe with possibility.

It’s easy to lose our way and be discouraged when life’s inevitable storms appear, but nothing is ever truly set in stone.

Life always finds a way.

Hope and faith keep us going.

Love makes us stronger, and in the end always transcends raw power and force.

Now more than ever, it’s time to openly share our gifts, talents and abilities for the benefit of all.

It’s time to manifest new journeys and adventures as we blaze through the fog, trusting that the world beyond it will be better than the one we’re leaving behind.

As Pam Gregory urges us, “In a time when misery is encouraged, love and joy are some of your greatest acts of defiance.”