Julia Butterfly Hill spent 738 days 180' high in a 200' redwood estimated to be 1,000 years old. One day, through her prayers, an overwhelming amount of love started flowing through her, filling up the dark hole that threatened to consume her. She suddenly realized that what she was feeling was the love of the Earth, the love of Creation.
"Everyday we, as a species, do so much to destroy Creation's ability to give us life. But the Creation continues to do everything in its power to give us life anyway. And that is true love."
Hope is a muscle, a practice, a choice that actually propels new realities into being. And it's a muscle we can strengthen. It is not the same as idealism or optimism. This kind of hope has nothing to do with wishful thinking. Hope as I've seen it lived is at once fierce and persistently joyful. I've come to understand this quality of hope as an essential foundation and power for the generative story, the generative landscape, that is emerging out of all of the rupture this moment in the life of the world has laid bare.