How to be Hopeful by Caitlin Moran


While I don’t agree with everything that Caitlin Moran says in her latest book, I share her view that everything that’s going on in the world right now ‘feels a lot’. Moran is an English journalist, broadcaster, and author determined to maintain a positive outlook. Her book is divided into three parts that document her ‘inspiring, life-changing quest’ to make this happen: Despair, Repair, and Thankfulness.
Moran observes that we are bombarded with news day and night, much of it dire – including the rolling back of civil and human rights, school shootings, and the effects of the climate crisis.
…while I turn on the radio hoping, like an idiot, for a cheerful start to the day … the fight-or-flight chemicals [are] released when you hear sad, wild, bad things. … Three minutes into the day, and my nervous system is already racing. Yet again, I feel like the world got worse while I was asleep.
Little wonder, then, that Moran set out on a mission to become more hopeful. When her fantasy of living a self-sufficient lifestyle in a remote Welsh village came crashing down – much to the relief of her family – Moran adopted a more rational approach to living her best life.
Although there is plenty of light-hearted humour in her book (alongside a few bad puns), Moran also covers serious topics. She describes the impact of living with four decades of profound anxiety and opens up about the mental health challenges that members of her family have experienced too. She briefly mentions suicide, drug use, porn, murder, torture, animal abuse, and self-harm; she repeats some nasty insults. Yet she is committed to making a positive difference in her community and encourages others to do so too, even if our days are full-on and the ‘rules of life keep changing’. She’s a blood donor, a litter collector, and head-over-heels in love with her cockapoo Luna who is the focus of an entire chapter.
She is consciously grateful.
Our enthusiasm for the good things is what will feed the good things; protect the good things; make the good things happen.
Moran emphasises the need to be discerning about what – and who – we let into our lives. Give yourself permission to not listen to the endless torrent of news, she advises, given its focus on ‘conflict and criticism’. She suggests making an effort to find out what’s going on in your community, so that you are aware of local news, causes and events rather than being drawn into faraway issues that you can do little about.
When Moran lost her headphones, she decided to try life without them. For the first time in ages her ears felt free. She rediscovered the joy of listening to nature and other sounds in the wider world (as well as her love of eavesdropping).
... I could not remember the last time I had heard rain fall on leaves … every drop on every leaf was plosive, symphonic, satisfying. … And it wasn’t just the rain, now I was tuning in to what was happening, I could hear …[the] distant, laughing scream as people ran for shelter … the gutter-gurgle … the squeal of bus brakes … The whole scene.
Moran lives in England and some of the people featured in her book may be unfamiliar to readers in Aotearoa, including the aptly named Isabella Tree. Tree’s success rewilding her English farm – which now attracts a spectacular variety of birds and other creatures – inspired Moran to revamp her own London garden. With help from a landscaping crew she turned her yard into a verdant paradise full of thriving plants, ponds, and wildlife. (There’s even a stone for her to perch on with her friend as they unapologetically ‘smoke fags’.)
…this lush, raggedy, mossy, dripping garden is full of tiny eyes, and hearts, and wings, and the wriggle and bustle and the hum of it fills me with such calm, joy and hope…
I love her glorious description of storks.
I finally see my first stork – sailing, high, back to its nest. I am electrified as I watch it. They fly like nothing else – like a confection of chopsticks and white paper…
Moran shares many suggestions for developing a more hopeful perspective.
Something that works well for her is jotting down ten things she can do to help her to look forward to the coming day. Having a small adventure or two, for example, or ‘doing something useful – noble – for humanity’. Start small, she says, and choose actions that are ‘doable’.
About midway through the book, I began to wonder if Moran was in cahoots with the marketing industry, like a social media influencer who partners with brands to promote their goods and services. She makes numerous (tiresome) references to brands, stores, and products. Do we really need to know what brand of binoculars she uses, where she bought her puffer vest, and who makes her favourite brand of crisps?
While some sections feel unnecessarily long, many thought-provoking insights encourage reflection. Moran notes that although we may already know the importance of getting enough sleep, eating well, and exercising, someone we know may be struggling, tired, or ‘living in chaos’ and could use a gentle reminder about self-care.
One of Moran’s main messages is not to wait for the good times to arrive, but instead to learn how to feel right now, that life is good (or good enough) already: to enjoy, appreciate, and applaud what is going well.
It’s sometimes hard to remember, when you’re busy despairing, but – we are still living through an era of miracle and wonder.
Reviewer: Anne Kerslake Hendricks
Ebury Press/Penguin Random House



