In a world that keeps urging us to disconnect, we’ve forgotten something: We haven’t lost our capacity to care. We’ve only lost our sense of what’s worth caring about.
On my morning dog walk in the city park, I come across my friend Toby, a respected and beloved children's soccer coach from Ghana, who is also a U.S. citizen living in NYC with his family. Visibly shaken this early morning as the son came up, he said that after several decades, he is returning to Ghana. Why? Because it is safer than the U.S., he says.
Through the all-at-once angry, sad, and fearful tears, he asks, “Why are Americans doing this, wanting this? Destroying what takes decades or centuries to build. Don’t they know history, world, life?”
You have your own story from your context. Perhaps more violent or vile. And layers of news that are too much.
Lately, I keep hearing phrases that sound harmless, but feel like tiny surrenders:
“It is what it is.”
“Nothing matters.”
“Protect your peace.”
Sometimes they’re wise. But more often, they’re just polite ways of saying: I’m checking out. It’s OK not to give a damn.
In a world that feels out of control, apathy can be a shelter. You don’t have to feel all the difficult feelings. The wellness-industrial complex has now shifted a call for self-care into a call for “strategic disconnection.“
Here’s the truth I keep circling back to:
We don’t have to feel everything.
We also don’t have to feel nothing.
We can choose—carefully—what gets our emotional energy and accept that choice as enough.
We haven’t lost the capacity to care. We’ve only forgotten how to decide what’s worth caring about.
And I believe—deeply—that believing in human goodness is worth that investment. I believe that delight in the truth about humanity and life is the essential and most revolutionary investment an Ordinary Mystic can make today. As Jack Gilbert once wrote in his liberating poem about what to do in times like these: We must risk delight.
That’s why we’re starting Hopeforge—a new gathering space in The New Glossary for those who want to practice hope together. Not blind optimism. Not toxic positivity. Not wisecracking avoidance. Just a habit of seeing the good and letting it change us.
We’ll begin with a book that shook me out of my own cynicism: Humankind: A Hopeful History by Rutger Bregman. It’s a bold, evidence-based reminder that humans are more decent than we’ve been taught to believe.
Here’s how it works:
Get the book (paperback, ebook, or audiobook).
Start reading the Prologue + Chapters 1–3 in the first week.
Join the Hopeforge section in The New Glossary for conversation—both in comments and, when you can, live on Zoom every other Friday.
No pressure. No homework. Just a shared fire to gather around.
📅 First live conversation: Friday, August 22, at 9 PM ET.
Bring your book, your thoughts, your questions—and maybe your belief (or doubt) in humanity. We’ll risk delight, together.
Check out the information about the calendar, readings, and registration.
Yours in the forge,
Samir
P.S. You’re invited. So is anyone you think could use a little hope heat.
❗️Notice that even though you are a (paid or free) subscriber of The New Glossary, you are not automatically subscribed to the Hopeforge section. To join this book salon, enable notifications for the Hopeforge section here:
👉 www.thenewglossary.com/account
Learn more and view the reading calendar in the first post here:
👉 www.thenewglossary.com/s/hopeforge
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Love it!! We can feel everything (a very overwhelming choice). We can feel nothing (a very attractive and easy choice). Or we can carefully choose what gets our emotional energy. This is much more challenging yet necessary. Samir, thanks for setting up this book salon that provides a moment to view humans through a positive lens. I'm already delighting in the learning to come!
I started the book on a day I needed some encouragement. I have been recommending to so many people!