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Growing Hope
A gardener’s guide to hope horticulture
Hi, kia ora, namaste, nǐ hǎo, jambo – welcome.
I explored the concept of hope being a verb in my last dispatch. This missive is a deeper dive into cultivating the optimum conditions within us for our hope to take root. I’ve latched onto the gardening metaphor for tending to our hope, because with all the reckoning I have done with hope, I think it doesn’t just exist; it must be cultivated. Like a plant, it requires attention, balance, and the right conditions to thrive. Left untended, it can wither in the face of cynicism, overwhelm, or despair.
Hope Is Not a Fairweather Friend
Hope isn’t for the good times. It’s not naive, or flimsy, or fickle. With all that lies ahead for humanity, our hope can grow stronger—more resilient—through hardship.
Because that’s exactly what hope is for.
It’s forged in tough conditions, not in spite of them but because of them.
Nutrition: A balanced diet
Hope needs good information—what we feed our minds matters.
I'm not suggesting we tune out of the 24-hour news cycle completely, but I think it’s important to be intentional about how we engage with it. I am trying to be mindful of how deeply I dive in, and try to prioritise news that’s relevant to me and my local community, whilst balancing the shock-and-awe headlines with stories that nourish me.
I’ve been seeking out news that highlights our shared humanity, the connections between us, and the good that’s emerging in the world. I thought you might appreciate my list of the most uplifting, solutions-focused, and awe-inspiring news sources I’ve found to date — stories that remind me of what’s possible, and what’s beautiful about being human. Enjoy!

Sunlight: Exposure to What’s Possible
Hope needs light. Without it, our belief in the possibility of change begins to fade. That’s why we must intentionally focus on what’s evolving—our understanding, our creativity, our capacity for kindness, and the potential that lies in our togetherness.
It’s easy to get pulled into the shadows—into end-of-the-world thinking and apocalyptic narratives. But the word apocalypse comes from ancient Greek, meaning uncovering or revelation.
We are living through such a time. The shrouds that once hid corrupt power and vested interests are being pulled away. We can’t unsee what’s been revealed—about tech oligarchs, about governments, about systems not built for our thriving.
But there’s another revelation unfolding, too:
We, the people are awakening.
We’re connecting, strategising, organising ourselves, and taking action.
And in the midst of all this, it’s just as important to turn toward the warmth of what’s going right.
A balanced media diet isn’t just about left and right—it’s about including sources that live in the fertile ground between polarities. News that highlights solutions, not just problems. Stories that show progress, spark possibility, and remind us of our collective power.
This is where hope gets its light.
And I am paying attention to it all.
Water: Staying Present and Nourished
A plant doesn’t grow if it’s forgotten. Hope needs consistent attention, and everyone will do that differently. For me, it’s achieved through a combination of meditation, intentionally exercising in nature whilst listening to uplifting podcasts, and lately I have been enjoying slowing down to appreciate small joys, inspired by Ross Gay’s Book of Delights. These things help keep my hope active.
The weight of living through what Joanna Macy calls the Great Turning, but replenishing through stillness, connection, and celebration of progress, strengthens our hope-abilities.
Soil: The Right Foundation
Hope isn’t about ignoring reality. To grow strong, it needs to be rooted in rich, honest soil. That means asking: What’s the right amount of information to stay informed without becoming overwhelmed?
We each need to find our balance—being aware without being immobilized, informed without being consumed.
And like good soil, our inner ground needs good stinky compost. That means shedding what no longer serves us—and allowing it to break down. This is our human work: to move through the world with eyes open, able to spot what’s outlived its purpose—or never truly supported our flourishing—and chuck it onto the compost heap.
Because from that decay, new life stirs. This living soil is infused with fresh energy, giving our seeds of hope the best chance to take root, grow, and thrive.
Seasons: Renewal and Rest
There are seasons when hope is in full bloom—and seasons when it lies fallow. But fallow doesn’t mean nothing is happening. Rest is not a pause from growth; it is a vital part of it. It’s a time of gathering strength, preparing for the next big push. Even when unseen, the seeds of hope are there beneath the surface, activating, strengthening, and forming. Waiting patiently for the right moment to burst forth into something new.
In times of struggle or setback, rest is not retreat—it’s renewal. So dear one, allow as much rest as you can from the front lines of your struggles. Switch off, unplug, rest your caring muscle, bathe in nature.
Ecosystem: Diversification
For hope to flourish, it needs a rich and diverse ecosystem. Just like in nature, monocultures weaken resilience—so we must actively cultivate variety: in thought, in perspective, in how we relate to one another.
That means nurturing our critical awareness, strengthening our capacity to build bridges, mend rifts, and truly listen over the fence to our neighbours.
We’re living in a time of extremes—where polarisation flattens complexity and creates an idea monoculture. But hope thrives on diversity. It grows strongest where many voices, experiences, and ways of knowing are welcomed and woven together.
A Thriving Garden of Hope
I hope that this metaphor is helpful to anchor the idea that your seeds of hope need to be tended, not scattered to the wind and left to chance.
We are hope’s gardeners. It’s a privilege, a delight, a responsibility.
If we can curate the optimum conditions, our hope can grow deep roots—strong enough to weather the storms, flexible enough to adapt, and abundant enough to share.
Here is a sprinkling of delights for you this week:
I’m not sure where silliness fits into my gardening hope metaphor, but I think it’s an important ingredient! How about some strength training for your happiness muscle? Just one kind thing a day can have radiating effects - outward and inward. I love a good win, win, win and This Nigerian School allows its fees to be paid with bags of recyclable waste.
That’s the Hope Dispatch for another week. I am sending you my love for all that you are juggling and struggling with. I am thinking that as much as the world contracts around us, I want our hearts to open and bloom. It’s hard being human, aye.
x Megan
P.S - If this did your Hope Garden some good, please share with others!
P.P.S. If you are in need of some nature bathing, but you’re stuck inside, my brother-in-law made this for you.
P.P.S If you stumble across some goodies to share, email me!
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