After the election - a few steps to keep hope going
We need to hope to make change but without change it’s more difficult to hope
In a sense, elections never disappoint. Discussing party politics, going out to vote, following the news to see the result - it all has a certain theatricality to it. The drama serves a function: community theatre has always brought people together.
Even if we disagree, we’re in it together if only because we’re all sharing a bigger experience. Those of us who participate, anyway. Seeing more people than usual head to our village hall on Thursday carried a note of mutual excitement.
That said, if someone gives me a funny look on election day, I always feel nervous that they’ve just voted for a party that’s loudly anti-immigration. A side effect of living in the whiter areas of Britain. This time I chose to believe that it was just their resting faces. It’s better for me that way.
The day after, I felt a mess of things as so many of us do. Elections are complicated, whoever wins. Beyond the drama, voting is an exercise of hope. Even if you spoil your vote, you anonymously lay yourself bare, asking the country to listen to your tiny voice, for your action to matter.
This could be part of why the voter turnout was so poor this time. So many of us are weary, finding it hard to keep hope alive, to keep exercising vulnerability by pouring our energy out into the world again and again.
It’s like how loneliness makes it harder for us to form connections or lack of sleep over time can make it harder for us to sleep. We need to hope to make change but without change it’s more difficult to hope.
Part of the comedown after an election is that we feel we’ve done the only bit we can and the rest is up to them. I’ve found it helps to plan a few actions for afterwards so that I don’t then slump into disengagement:
Feel your feelings
Fear is profoundly uncomfortable but attempting to side step it is a sure pathway to apathy. At the very least, it closes you off from being open to finding solutions. We need to acknowledge it and notice where it shows up in our bodies.
I can find this really challenging to do but I came across a suggestion that art can help by allowing us to feel without having to find the solutions.
Glennon Doyle mentioned this in her podcast We Can Do Hard Things. She talked about watching Interstellar when she needs to have a cry and not be in control of fixing things for anyone.
Feeling hope can also be scary. Maybe you need to take a moment to celebrate the possibility of change this weekend without intellectually arguing your own desire away?
Do something hopeful
Honour your wish for the world by taking some small action over the coming days. What was your vote for?
If it was for a liveable planet or to care for the vulnerable, you could take a walk to notice signs of outdoor life and silently express gratitude for every person you see.
Create art for yourself or to display in a window. Dance and notice the sensations in your body. You’re still here. Your capacity for love is intact.
I plan to mindfully make a meal for my family and meditate on where the ingredients have come from as I use them.
Commit to staying engaged
Things don’t move forward if we only pay attention to government politics when elections roll around. We still have a role to play in holding our government to account.
But the moment passes and if we haven’t already formed habits around political engagement, motivation wanes.Taking steps to stay engaged while we’re still warm from having voted can really help.
After the last election I signed up to Make Votes Matter as a single issue campaign calling for an end to first past the post - the vote-counting system that prevents votes from being equally counted.
This time, I’ve joined the Green Party as a member and will be writing to my MP to congratulate him on winning our seat and to explain why I didn’t vote for him as well as what I need him to consider as our representative in government.
I find that being a parent has pulled elections into sharp focus in a new way. In 2019, the results came as I was in hospital with my youngest who was suffering an asthma attack. She was three then and will be eight soon. In the next election, she will be 13 and my eldest will be 18, voting age.
I notice the passage of time between elections in a way I didn’t before. I think of how quickly my children are growing up. I feel the urgency for change.