Rain Perry

Welcome to A Habit of Hope — a weekly practice of optimism and joy. We get inspired, there’s music, and — at the bottom of the essay — use a set of tools for community and accountability.

Greetings from Southern California. You’ve seen the pictures of Los Angeles — the scope of the devastation is unimaginable. Up here in Ventura County we’ve had a couple fires start but thankfully they were quickly knocked down. Our power is back on after several days; neighbors just down the road are still in the dark. It’s a regular thing now that when there are high wind warnings. Edison shuts off the power prophylactically. We are all on alert.

It’s soooo dry. It hasn’t rained in Southern California since last May. Last year we got a ton of precipitation, which is so lucky because our reservoirs and groundwater basins are currently full. (Ignore the political lies about the water situation. Picture turning on all the taps and hoses in your house at the same time and you can understand why some hydrants had no water pressure in LA.)

Rather than give any attention to folks who would use a tragedy to gain political points, I prefer to do what Mr. Rogers said to do when things are scary: “look for the helpers.”

There are so many helpers in LA. I’ve seen videos of neighbors filling trashcans with water and hauling them across the street to wet down houses. I’ve read messages from dozens of friends offering a place to stay, a place to take a pet, a place to charge phones. There are the linemen and women working in hazardous conditions, day and night, often without much appreciation from frustrated residents, to get the power back on.

And then there are the firefighters - OMG, they are heroes. And the pilots. Check out this water drop. As someone posted: “nothing but net.”

Welcome to A Habit of Hope — a weekly practice of optimism and joy. We begin with music, get inspired, and — at the bottom of the essay — use a set of tools for community and accountability.

Welcome back, everybody!

This week, I was going to write about Jimmy Carter. He’s the perfect kind of person for this newsletter, with his commitment to making the world a better place, propelled by a Christianity rooted in service and humility.

I have fond childhood memories of a Carter Presidency that was both transcendent and beset by challenges. But it’s his post-Presidency life that truly impresses, as he and his beloved partner Rosalynn devoted their lives to service to others via Habit for Humanity and The Carter Center.

But what can I say about him that others aren’t already saying very well?

So this week I’m going to introduce you to a different politician I’m very excited for you to meet: my aunt Francie Jacober.

This issue makes a month of this newsletter, A Habit of Hope. Thank you! I’m doing it for myself as much as anyone, because it’s so easy to feel powerless in the face of the craziness.

I’ve gotten lovely feedback from quite a few of you who are enjoying this newsletter. That fills me with happiness! Happy you’re here.

We Start With Music

This week is about a spectacular, daring rescue. So we have to start with a song about needing to be rescued! This is a great time to watch or re-watch the Paul Thomas Anderson film Magnolia, because it’s all about grief and forgiveness. Also, as a songwriter it blows me away that the film was entirely based on the music of Aimee Mann, and that at one point there is a pause the action so all the characters can sing her song “Wise Up.”

What I didn’t know was that there was a correlating music video where the action of the story pauses and Aimee Mann appears in the scenes next to the stars and sings her own masterpiece “Save Me.” I mean, it’s fascinating from an artistic standpoint, and also I love picturing it logistically - like “okay, hold where you are, keep that mood - let’s bring in Aimee.”

Week Three. Thank you so much for being here!

I’m really excited to bring you the Person of the Week this week. It’s a story from my own backyard.

I was home doing chores one Saturday and my daughter texted me. “Mom, you have to listen to this. It’s a crime podcast and it’s about that girl who went missing up in San Luis Obispo — and it’s SO GOOD. It’s this guy - he’s from Orcutt and he’s a musician. You have to listen.” And she sent me a link to a podcast called, appropriately, Your Own Backyard.

Welcome to A Habit of Hope — a weekly practice of optimism and joy. We begin with music, get inspired, and — at the bottom of the essay — use a set of tools for community and accountability. This is a cross post also available on substack.

Week two of this experiment! Thank you for being here. Let’s start, as we usually will, with a song: Los Lobos’ lovely “A Matter of Time,” about a father leaving his family to cross the border, hoping someday to send for them once he finds work. From the heartbreaking opening lyric “Speak softly / Don’t wake the baby / Come and hold me once more / Before I have to leave” to the repeated mantra/plea at the end “we’ll all be together, in a matter of time,” it’s an old, old story. Like water flowing downhill, people have forever been compelled to migrate for work, for safety, in the hope of a better life. My great-great-grandparents did it; yours probably did too.

This is a crosspost from Rain's Substack newsletter "A Habit of Hope."

Hello all you beautiful subscribers!

I'm delighted to publish the first issue of A Habit of Hope. You can read the introduction to this newsletter, which explains the whole concept, here. The format is simple, but hopefully the repetition of it will be useful in building a practice of optimism and joy:

• This brief weekly newsletter, with a dose of inspiration and a method for accountability

• A simple daily planner to track the work of hope, optimism and good trouble (here's a rough draft of the instructions until I get the pretty ones from my designer!)

• A weekly zoom for community and more accountability (NEW TIME: Mondays from 5:00 to 6:00 pm PST -- signup info below)

• An occasional in-person gathering (TBD)

Thank you so much for joining me in this experiment. Without further ado, here we go!

Planner

Until I get the official version of this being designed by the talented Kayleigh Morrison, please feel free to use plain paper for daily tracking. Doodle around the edges if you like!

This is not a checklist at which to fail or succeed -- it's a touchstone to use as you like. It's worth keeping filled-up pages in a box or a binder to review later for inspiration and pride.

From Hopelessness to Hope

It's so easy right now to feel hopeless. The shape of the potential destruction -- of government agencies, of norms, of communities -- being planned by the new administration is becoming clearer, like a hurricane as it gets closer to land.

I can feel myself protecting myself. I'm careful how I consume news -- watching it on TV is too much. I don't have it in me to react to each outrageous nomination, each foreshadowing of the chaos to come. I'm uninterested in debates about whose fault this all is. I find I have no appetite for nihilism or blame. I've seen posts like "here is a list of every bad thing that's going to happen next." What could I possibly gain by reading that except paralyzing fear?

I need hope. And I'm sure I'm not alone in thinking that to get through whatever is facing us, I'll need a regular infusion of it. Not false optimism, not a distraction, but practical hope.

I keep coming back to that famous quote by Congressman John Lewis.

I always loved it, but until these past few weeks I never really understand it. To be optimistic in the face of despair is a radical assignment, from a man who saw the worst of America -- got his head cracked open on the Edmund Pettus Bridge, spoke at the March on Washington when there was no certainty the Voting Rights Act would ever pass -- and went on to live a life full of purpose and joy. He danced, he crowd-surfed (7:30 mark), and he worked tirelessly for justice, gaining the nickname "the Conscience of the Congress."

So how to get hold of a little of whatever John Lewis had?

Well, I've started and stopped this missive about seven times, and now I'm ready to post it.

First, here's a video from just over a week after Trump was elected the first time, of a Chuck Prophet and Stephanie Finch house concert in my living room. I want to invoke the power of music and community, because those will get us through this. (You can click the video to watch it.)

Hello!!

Since this is a "weekly, unless a topic becomes timely" email, here you go with a few quick updates.

Do yourself a favor and listen to at least the first few minutes of the Simon Rosenberg/Tom Bonier zoom "Why the data makes us optimistic." It's so great. You'll see why these two guys kept me sane in 2022 when everyone was flipping out over the polling, and they were spot on.

Data for the 2024 presidential election are starting to come in -- actual data of voter behavior like registration rates and early voting trends. So I'm thrilled to let you know that starting next week, you can visit the TargetEarly website and track all of it. This will help you internalize the calming mantra "watch the data, not the polls; watch the data, not the polls; watch the data, not the polls."

I'm always talking about the "Thirteen Keys" presidential election prediction model. Well, Professor Allan Lichtman made his 2024 prediction yesterday which debuted in a video report from the NY Times. Their reporting is cutesy and a little condescending, but it does give Lichtman a chance to explain his thinking on how each of the keys are playing out in this election. Make of the whole thing what you will, but his track record of correctly predicting, early, nine out of ten of the last elections (the outlier being Bush v. Gore) indicates that this oddball is on to something.