Rebellious Hope
Our Insistence on Beauty and Love Is our Defiance
Rebellious Hope
I want to talk about hope. But not the soft-focus, denial-based version that collapses the moment reality gets rough. Not the pastel-colored platitudes that dissolve under scrutiny. Not the decorative optimism that functions as spiritual bypassing.
We’re living in a time when hope feels suspect—and rightly so. To some people, it sounds naïve or irresponsible, especially amid the ongoing Trumpocalypse and the political, cultural, and ethical upheavals it has unleashed.
It almost feels obscene to speak of hope as we witness the systematic dismantling of institutional safeguards, the gleeful cruelty elevated to policy, and the sickening lies repeated until they metastasize into widely believed “truth.”
To some, hope is treated like a belief system that we cling to regardless of evidence. It’s a quasi-religious optimism that refuses to look directly at what’s happening. Like a sedative, it’s a way to avoid the uncomfortable work of recognizing and naming what is actually occurring.
I’m not interested in either of those approaches.
The kind of hope worth cultivating now is rebellious hope. It’s sober and alert. It’s militant in its refusal of both despair and fantasy. It doesn’t flinch and doesn’t artificially sweeten.
Rebellious hope doesn’t avert its gaze from the damage being done. With forensic precision, it sees clearly the enormity of the curses unleashed by the Trumpocalypse: the erosion of democratic norms, the normalization of cruelty as entertainment, the weaponization of disinformation, the corrosion of truth as a shared framework, and the debilitating exhaustion carried by so many of us who are trying to live with integrity while the rules keep changing.
The rebellious hope I aspire to embody and express doesn’t pretend that things are “basically fine.” Nor does it traffic in the delusion that positive thinking alone will save us from authoritarian impulses or ecological collapse.
Rebellious hope thrives because surrendering our agency is not an option. We won’t stop building our capacity to respond, to create, and to resist. We won’t hand victory to those who profit from our demoralization.
Rebellious hope is not a feeling we wait for like good weather, but a daily practice and discipline. We wield it as a lively, nourishing form of resistance. It’s a tool we use even when it would be easier to let it rust.
Rebellious hope thrives on truth-telling, even when the truth is brutal. It survives on discernment: the ability to distinguish between what we can influence and what we can’t, between strategic action and performative outrage. It grows stronger when we refuse to let cynicism become our personality, our brand, and our default setting.
Right now, many people are understandably tempted to believe that the world is irredeemably broken. I won’t be upset with you if you fear that everything is sliding toward chaos or if you believe that effort is pointless and the decent people have already lost.
That belief is seductive in its simplicity. It offers a perverse kind of comfort: If everything is doomed, we’re absolved from the responsibility of trying. But it’s also paralyzing. And paralysis is exactly what destructive forces rely on. Despair is the most effective weapon of authoritarianism.
Rebellious hope rejects paralysis without denying reality. It refuses the false choice between naive optimism and corrosive despair.
This means learning how to stay emotionally and ethically (and aesthetically!) alive while taking in hard news. It means developing the stamina to witness atrocities without becoming numb or collapsing into helplessness. It means choosing, consciously and repeatedly, where we focus our attention and how we spend our limited energy and which battles we engage.
It doesn’t mean letting outrage and despair claim every inch of our inner landscape, turning us into walking embodiments of emergency.
We who practice the martial art of rebellious hope don’t ignore what’s wrong. We don’t minimize the dangers or pretend that cruelty is just a difference of opinion or that the erosion of rights is merely a “political disagreement.” But we also refuse to let catastrophe monopolize our consciousness, to become the only story we tell ourselves about who we are and what is possible.
Instead, we cultivate a grounded, clear-eyed awareness of what still works: what still nourishes, connects, heals, and empowers. We notice the unglamorous but profound infrastructures of care that persist even in dark times: the people who show up for one another without fanfare, the systems that quietly function despite being underfunded and undervalued, and the acts of competence and kindness that don’t make headlines but keep the world from unraveling completely.
We stay aware of the fragile miracles we depend on: shelter, food, water, electricity, transportation, community, the intricate web of cooperation that sustains modern life. And we don’t pretending these treasures are guaranteed forever or evenly distributed. We acknowledge their precariousness. We honor their existence while they last.
Rebellious hope holds fragility and resilience in the same frame, refusing to choose between them.
We train our perception this way. We practice seeing both the damage and the persistence, the cruelty and the care, the collapse and the continuity. As we do, an important source stabilizes inside us.
We feel that while the world is deeply troubled, our life is not merely a passive casualty of history. We retain the power to choose how we respond, how we care, how we create, how we love, and how we resist.
Rebellious hope doesn’t ask us to be cheerful or relentlessly positive. It asks us to refuse the seduction of numbness: to be present, honest, engaged, and fiercely committed to our own aliveness.
Rebellious hope invites us to build inner structures that can withstand external turbulence. It empowers us to reinforce our foundations while the weather remains unpredictable and possibly worsening. It inspires us to become internally fortified not through rigidity but through flexibility, not through denial but through clear-eyed endurance.
Cultivating rebellious hope becomes easier when we stop expecting certainty and start practicing stamina. We shift from demanding guarantees to developing capacity. We accept that we may be in this for a while.
And here is a subtle but crucial truth: As we strengthen this hope—rooted in realism, sustained by attention, and expressed through practical action—we begin to notice more evidence that our efforts matter. Not miracles, necessarily, nor dramatic reversals of fortune. But confirmations. Small proofs of efficacy. Signs that we still have agency and our choices still creates ripples in the world.
We see that the systems of mutual aid we build actually help people. The truth we insist on speaking does reach others. The beauty we create does provide sustenance. Our refusal to surrender our humanity is, in fact, a gift to others.
So here is a simple, ongoing practice, which functions as both a spiritual discipline and a strategic intervention:
We keep a record of everything that genuinely supports us. We track what works. We name what steadies us. We acknowledge, with specificity and gratitude, the people, routines, places, and capacities that help us remain intact and responsive.
On my list today might be the friend who checks in, the tasty meal that nourishes me, and the walk that clears my mind. I might put a gold star next to the line on my list where I note how much I love the creative work I do.
You and I keep adding to this record regularly. We treat it as essential infrastructure.
This isn’t escapism or self-soothing denial. It’s strategic nourishment, building the resilience we need for sustained engagement.
In times like these, clarity and stamina are radical virtues. It’s revolutionary to see clearly what’s happening without being destroyed by that seeing.
We build our capacity to remain engaged without burning out. We don’t just survive but actually thrive as we tend to our own aliveness while also working for collective liberation.
Rebellious hope is how we cultivate vibrant, robust, intelligent LOVE. Not sentimental love, nor abstract or theoretical love. But the fierce, protective love that fights for what it cherishes. Our love says: I won’t abandon myself, my people, or my commitment to a more beautiful world, no matter how bleak the current chapter appears.
This is the rebellious hope that outlasts empires and builds the future while the present burns.
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EXPLORE THE BIG PICTURE OF YOUR LIFE
with my EXPANDED AUDIO HOROSCOPES for the Coming Year.
What new influences and opportunities will be headed your way in 2026? What fresh resources will you be able to draw on? How can you conspire with life to create the best possible future for yourself?
Beginning this week, and for the next two weeks as well, I’m exploring the BIG PICTURE of your life in my Expanded Audio Horoscopes.
If you slip into a philosophical, visionary mood at the end of each year, you might appreciate my perspectives on your long-term outlook.
To listen to PART 1 of your BIG PICTURE horoscopes online, go to
Register and/or log in through the main page, and then click on the link “Part 1: Long-Term Prediction for 2026.”
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The cost for the Expanded Audio Horoscopes is $7 per sign. (Discounts for multiple purchases.)
Each forecast is 8-11 minutes long.
P.S. You can still access last week’s Sneak-Peek at 2026. In these expanded audio horoscopes, I describe major themes you’ll be working and playing with in 2026. After you register and/or log in, click on “Last Week (Dec. 23, 2025).”
How we can not just survive but thrive during the Trumpocalypse:
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FREE WILL ASTROLOGY
For the Week of January 1
CAPRICORN: Computer scientist Tim Berners-Lee invented the World Wide Web. He helped ensure its core technologies were released to the world without patents or royalties. Universal, open access mattered more to him than personal profit. That single decision was a profound gift to the world. Billions benefited. In his generous spirit, dear Capricorn, I’ll ask whether there are any ideas, knowledge, or resources you’re holding in reserve that could multiply through sharing. In 2026, I invite you to be like Berners-Lee: a magnanimous strategist who understands that things may gain value through distribution, not restriction. Your intelligence will be worth more unleashed than protected. Your innovations will need the crowd to fulfill their purpose
AQUARIUS: In the myths of Mali’s Dogon people, Nommo is an amphibious, telepathic being who brought language, rhythm, and balance to Earth—and then departed. If things fall out of harmony, it’s believed, Nommo will return, speaking the lost syllables that realign the cosmos. You’re a bit like Nommo these days, Aquarius. Parts of your world may be in disarray, and your sacred task is to listen for the lost syllables. What’s missing in the dialogue? What notes aren’t being sung? If you seek gently and speak truly, restoration will follow.
PISCES: The longest chess game theoretically possible is 5,949 moves, but most games end in under 40. Chess masters don’t win by seeing every possibility. Instead, they recognize patterns and anticipate which paths are worth exploring. Let’s apply this as a useful metaphor, Pisces. In 2016, it’s crucial that you don’t waste energy by considering improbable scenarios that will never materialize. You should be determined not to miss emerging themes because you’re too busy calculating unlikely variations. According to my prognosis, you don’t need to see further; you need to see more precisely and accurately. The chess master’s advantage isn’t exhaustive analysis; it’s knowing what to ignore. Ninety percent of your options don’t matter. Ten percent do.
ARIES: Before major eruptions, volcanoes may emit harmonic tremors. Lasting for hours or days, they are signals that pressure is building. A similar phenomenon is simmering in your sphere, Aries. Be alert. What rhythmic clues are vibrating through your system? What pressure is mounting that could eventually erupt? I’m not saying you should interpret them with a worried mind. In fact, they are offering you valuable intelligence about what needs to be released. You can either ignore them and let the eruption surprise you, or you can pay attention and arrange for controlled venting.
TAURUS: Your heartbeat isn’t regular like a metronome, but slightly irregular. The phenomenon is called heart rate variability and is a sign of health. A perfectly regular heartbeat is actually a warning sign. Your heart knows something your mind might not believe: Perfect consistency is pathological. Variation is vitality. The rhythm of life includes the beautiful irregularity of a system that’s alive enough to respond and adapt. Keep these truths uppermost in mind during 2026, Taurus. You will thrive on changeability and fluctuation.
GEMINI The Greenland shark waits for animals to fall asleep, then eats them while they’re unconscious. Since it’s too slow to chase anything, it has evolved a patient approach to hunting. It acts on the understanding that everything eventually lets its guard down. I suggest you cultivate similar patience in 2026, Gemini. There’s no need to rush toward what you want. Position yourself correctly and wait for moments of opportunity. You’re playing a long game.
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EXPLORING YOUR LONG-RANGE FUTURE
Would you like some inspiration as you muse and wonder about your upcoming adventures in 2026?
In this week’s EXPANDED AUDIO HOROSCOPES, I offer you a long-term, in-depth exploration of your destiny in the coming months. This is Part One of a three-part series.
Part Two and Part Three will be available in the next two weeks.
Access them at https://RealAstrology.com
Register and/or log in through the main page, and then click on the link “Part 1: Long-Term Prediction for 2026.”
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You can also still access my Sneak-Peek forecasts for 2026 from a week ago. To hear these, click on “Last Week (Dec 23, 2025).”
The cost is $7 per sign. Discounts are available for bulk purchases.
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CANCER: Atmospheric rivers are massive moisture highways in the sky. Meteorologists have been documenting newly identified patterns in how these marvels work. They’ve learned that tiny changes in ocean temperature can redirect thousands of miles of incoming rain. This will be an excellent metaphor for you in 2026, dear Cancerian. You’ll be in atmospheric-river mode. Small shifts in perspective and slight recalibrations of intention will send your momentum flowing in different and better directions. No drama required! Simple micro-adjustments will reroute larger currents. Attend devotedly and zestfully to the subtleties.
LEO: Certain fungi can break down pollutants like pesticides and plastics into less toxic substances. These mushrooms digest what’s considered indigestible, transforming poison into nutrients. I suspect you will have a metaphorically comparable capacity in 2026, dear Leo: a superpower that enables you to metabolize blight and taint. I predict you will exult as you eliminate stuff that’s useless and harmful. Please indulge your unusual talent to the max!
VIRGO: The US Library of Congress adds 60,000 items to its collection every week but only catalogs a fraction of them immediately. So vast amounts of knowledge sit there, acquired but not yet processed, waiting for librarians to create the finding aids that make them accessible. You’re in a similar situation, Virgo. You’ve accumulated extraordinary amounts of information, experience, and skill. But how much of it is cataloged? How much is accessible when you need it? In the coming months, I hope you *won’t* acquire more. Instead, you will spend time with your archives and process what you have already gathered. What do you know that you’ve forgotten you know? What experiences hold wisdom you’ve never extracted?
LIBRA: Vault doors often require *two* keys, turned simultaneously, to open. Why? Such a practice furthers risk reduction and fraud prevention. Let’s make this a potent metaphor for you in 2026, Libra. It will symbolize cooperation and balance as well as an enhancement of your security. The treasures you’ll be trying to access will require dual input. One key is yours: intellect, agility, charm, initiative. The second must come from a collaborator, mentor, friend, an unexpected stranger, or even a spirit guide. Just assume that the vault won’t open through brilliance alone. It will require synchronization.
SCORPIO: In December 1968, US astronaut Bill Anders was orbiting the moon inside the Apollo 8 spacecraft. He snapped a photo that showed the Earth as a blue-and-white sphere rising over the gray lunar surface against the blackness of space. This iconic image helped fuel the environmental movement and transformed how humans visualized their home. You’re at a comparable pivot, Scorpio. In 2026, you will see familiar situations from new angles, and this will reorganize your understanding of how life works. That’s a good thing! Be alert for watershed moments that bring revolutionary blessings.
SAGITTARIUS: The Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland is made of 40,000 interlocking basalt columns formed when ancient lava cooled and contracted. Legend says a giant built it as a bridge to Scotland. Both stories are true, one geologically and the other mythologically. Your life in the coming months will remind you that multiple explanations can coexist without canceling each other. The scientific story of lava cooling doesn’t make the giant story less meaningful. The giant story doesn’t make the geology less accurate. Conclusion: You don’t have to choose between competing narratives about your life as if only one can be true. What if both are? The practical explanation and mythic explanation describe the same phenomenon from different angles. You can be both the cooling lava and the giant building the bridge.
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