moonTalk #1: hope
Hello there and welcome to the first-ever moonTalk.
It feels wonderful to be in your inbox on this fine summer’s day, so thank you for having me. Briefly, moonTalk will be a letter from me to you, featuring things that occupy my thoughts and inspire me that week.
It will be a sum of my brain highlights, from social justice and politics to books, music, films and even recipes. Each newsletter will end with a thought-provoking question that you can then chat to me/others about on ‘the gram’.
So when I land in your inbox, make yourself an oat latte, put some Fleetwood Mac on, sit back, and allow my stream of consciousness to flow through you.
Love,
Mina
Today we talk about hope. I know it’s a bit of a deep and abstract subject to kick things off with, but who am I to stop a burst of inspiration when it comes?
…
Earlier this year when I read Maya Angelou’s I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings as part of my ‘reading as a coping mechanism’ phase, I felt something that I was not even aware of beginning to shift in me. Reading, I vividly imagined Angelou and her dear brother through the numerous adventures and frustrating moments depicted in the book, often laughing alongside her, yet mostly feeling the seeds of a slow-burning rage that started brewing in me.
The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.
I had mostly forgotten about Angelou’s book title and plot until I started reading British Vogue’s Hope September issue, full of inspirational words from all around the world, from Edward Enninful himself to Riz Ahmed and New York Mayor Andrew Cuomo. 30.000 feet above solid ground, sat on the window seat of a metal box carrying me from Western Europe, London to the heart of Eurasia, Istanbul, my hometown, I once again started thinking about ‘hope’. And why, defying all odds, the caged bird still does in fact sing.
As a Turkish woman currently feeling rather overwhelmed by the never-ending socio-political chaos of her hometown, hope is a rather blurry concept for me in today’s world.
(If you have no idea what I’m on about do read my recent article on gal-dem: https://gal-dem.com/controversial-challengeaccepted-selfies-have-actually-led-to-a-small-win-for-womens-rights-in-turkey/)
Hope is a concept that I often find tough to process, with a feeling of potential shame and guilt surrounding it. First, a form of ignorant shame that comes from perhaps thinking I am stupidly ‘being too hopeful’ to think things will get better. Or instead, the feeling of acting too shamefully ignorant and almost giving up on the cause already, thinking it never will change. Sadly, I am yet to find a middle ground on this. It does scare me to be hopeful for the future of women in Turkey, as -perhaps in the most solar Virgo way possible-, I fear the let-down we might experience. Yet it also scares me to feel the hope in me slowly fade away with every new headline, every new tribute photo, and every new protest.
Hope, in my personal life, is also a hard thing to maintain for an 80% pessimist like me. I find it tough to imagine a better future, when everything in the present feels chaotic and uncertain, especially during the weird rollercoaster we call 2020. Somedays I find it rather hard to motivate myself, as I can’t see clearly where my actions will lead.
In order to get a more personal definition of hope that clearly will vary from individual to individual, I asked you on Instagram to define hope for me. Here’s a couple that I thought were really thought-provoking:
hope is the enemy of the now
hope is feeling the potential for change
hope is the fuel to wake up every morning
hope is the thing you can’t hear or feel or see that keeps you going, especially when everything around you is a shit storm from hell
hope is almost a tingle, deep in your bones that this life of yours will one day be the life you choose
hope is a mental image that drives you to persist
hope is trusting something you don’t see yet
Hope truly is a curious thing, as it does not come and go in our societies in the way that Hollywood blockbusters depict a narrative. We don’t suddenly experience a burst of hope out of nowhere after a couple of months of desperation, like when a protagonist goes through a bump, and twenty minutes later everything magically resolves itself. Hope doesn’t come in the form of ‘a lightbulb moment’, that’s for sure. It takes days, weeks, months worth of build-up.
I believe that we must have inner hope & outer hope: hope for our personal path, and hope on a bigger, societal level.
In my personal life, I get bursts of motivation, often when I hit rock bottom, by believing in the idea that there is a better future possible, and it all depends on my actions in the present. It doesn’t have to be me thinking about 5 years from now. The better future can literally be an hour away. In the simplest way possible, by telling myself if I get out of bed and go somewhere to study, I will feel better today. Taking it day by day, step by step, and focusing on the outcome of that day leads to a better ‘future’, whatever and whenever it might be.
“No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path.” says Buddha. No matter how scary the future might look, one must never lose hope to at least attempt to face the day with their whole effort. At least I know I will try.
When it comes to issues of social justice, I usually experience that hope in my entire being, following months of brewing rage, with every name and every case of social injustice igniting a bigger fire in me. “For the caged bird sings of freedom“. It sings for it still has hope. As a global society, we are slowly waking up to the injustices happening in places completely different to what we’re used to, we are slowly learning how to get out of our comfort zone, our bubble, and use our voices for causes that do not affect us at all.
I hope that through this social justice activism ‘butterfly effect’, we will learn to be vocal in our daily lives, not just on social media, but when talking to others, observing society and being generally more aware of all the discrimination and atrocities being committed just a turn of a head away. Approaching these issues with actual hope for change will make us more passionate.
And only if we manage to find both inner and outer hope that we will end up making an actual change.
I want to leave it here today with words that I believe define hope for me, the first stanza from Emily Dickinson’s poem, Hope is the thing with feathers, as she also sees hope as a bird that sings come rain or shine, gale or storm, good times or bad.
“Hope” is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops — at all
…
A random list of my favourite things these days:
Dried papaya.
Reading 1984 on my kindle (as I had never read the entire thing before, I know, tragic for a book nerd like me..) and seeing all the highlighted sections that are super relevant to today’s world. Makes me realise that political history is a vicious cycle.
Starting to read Girl, Woman Other by Bernardine Evaristo: It had been in my library waiting for ages, and now that I have started it I genuinely cannot stop reading. It is so powerful, funny and also just such an easy read.
Thank You Farmer True Water Deep Cream: So watery and cooling, fab for my sensitive skin. Especially now that I am constantly under the Mediterranean sun.
BLACKPINK: The only band I have been listening to while working out lately, sort of starting to understand the K-POP hype.
Being by the sea after 8 months away from home. So. Good. I honestly don’t think anything can replace my love for Mediterranean tomatoes. Tesco’s Finest could never.
Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! If you have any feedback/discussion points for me feel free to email minatumay@gmail.com. Otherwise, always more than happy to chat on Instagram @minaonthemoon. Do DM me!
Now here’s a question to think of until next time:
What is the one thing that gets you out of bed in the morning?