In my work as a writer I’ve been going through a phase of trying to identify my PRACTICE. That’s Practice with a capital ‘P’. This is because I’m often not sure whether to call myself a Creative, an Artist, a Writer, or a Journalist. Or all of the above. I operate in all of these modes interchangeably – sometimes at the same time. A couple of people I’ve mentioned this quandary to have countered with “Does it matter what you call yourself?” And they’re right; it doesn’t matter. But then, it matters enough for me to want to know what I am in my own mind. This is about trying to capture my own approach and answer that dreaded question ‘What do you do?’ without fumbling. Because, it feels inherently linked to a process. And instead of feeling assured, my answer is usually a sequence of stilted semi-ramblings because I don’t have a coherent answer.
Perhaps it’s about identity too – a ‘Who Am I’ big life question. The truth is of course, that you can be several things at once. I’m a writer and I’m also an artist – both involve a certain shared perspective – looking at the world from the outside-in. You’re an observer trying to make things make sense; steering a course through a set of fractures and connections. And as you articulate what you see, you are hopefully helping others to articulate things for themselves too. Sometimes I’m writing opinion pieces and sometimes I’m reporting as a journalist, sometimes my writing is expansive and descriptive, sometimes it’s taut and to the point. And most often it is realised through the Media – published in physical magazines and on digital platforms.
Photo by Berkay Mavral on Pexels.com
It’s easier than ever for people to present themselves as experts, as a recent HBR article on thought-leadership versus ‘thought-doership‘ explores. A few prompts into an LLM, can throw up a suite of expertise to call one’s own – except that ‘this’ expertise was never actually discovered through experience or won through the school of hard knocks. Whether using AI or not to conjure expertise, theories need to work in practice. So we might as well make sure they do. Because if they don’t they’re of little use. And so it is, that in this AI age, having a Practice – the all-important ‘doership’ of putting theory into practice has never been more important. For example, a neat and tidy principle for how to fix the team dynamics at work – however groundbreaking as an idea, might turn out to be a dud in practice, and God-forbid, make things worse. Experience and knowledge straight from ‘the coal face’ will stand out amongst the untested and unsubstantiated advice presented as second-hand theory. The advice people offer from lived experience keeps us grounded too – it’s humbling for someone to have to speak from their own successes and failures, and that is exactly what gives people authenticity. It also underpins any genuine sense of authority. In terms of my writing, I want my words to have had a real physical life before they hit the page. I’m convinced that having a real world, lived Practice is creatively vital and leads to our best work.
At a recent three-day course I attended, I saw firsthand the importance that having a sense of Practice makes in the context of leadership. One speaker amongst several contributors stood out particularly because everything she spoke about was rooted in her own day-to-day on-the-ground experience. And this wasn’t an average role. – Nikki Marfleet had been (until recently) the Governor of one of Britain’s high-security men’s prisons – HMP Woodhill, where violence, drug-issues and safety were everyday challenges. Here the importance of effective leadership was vital for her team and the 800 prisoners in her charge. She had done an art degree (before also studying criminology) and it was both amazing – and a little surprising – to hear how she brought her creativity into her role as a prison Governor. A seemingly simplistic approach but incredibly effective: was to make handmade cards for staff which included personal messages offering encouragement. This could be taken as naive but the result was that it really helped staff to feel seen and valued. And with some more imaginative problem-solving she set out to improve prisoners’ experiences by planting trees in the grounds so that they could see the changing seasons from inside, which helped their mental health. Taking action like this began to give staff and prisoners alike a more positive outlook. It was still a high security prison but in terms of her leadership it was a game-changer, improving the overall wellbeing of staff and prisoners alike.
When writing, ‘Be better, be punk’ I really started to notice how my Creative Practice is developing. The piece had a momentum of its own right from the beginning – as if it was a story that wanted to be written. I kept finding myself, over and again, in the right place at the right time. From the initial idea, to the experiences and interviews along the way and the conversations it sparked with people after it was published – it was a living and breathing entity captured in words on a page. It had its own life. And I felt alive too. I suddenly noticed the things I already do very naturally, and when I feel at my best. It was a signal to me of the wider creative process I was participating in as I ‘made’ the article. Importantly, it relied on my being ‘out there’ and engaging myself – being present and active in the world. And I found that my Practice is very much rooted in these things, which contribute to the wider work of researching and developing the idea – exploring a hunch and being really inquisitive and curious. My Practice felt like I was hosting a wider conversation with every person I met along the way. This threw open new avenues and made me realise that as long as I continue to write I’ll be having an ongoing conversation with the world.
An example of this was at a networking evening: I had written on the sticky label I was given to wear: “My name is: Alex Noel… Talk to me about: Punk Spirituality”. It was far better than inviting people to talk to me about writing, which has never gone particularly well. I would get questions about whether I still even have a job (I do, by the way). It was fascinating to discover how many places Punk has reached into as it has pervaded our culture over the last 50 years. From design principles of ‘punk production’ to Punk’s DIY ethos influencing leadership and coaching, and then further insights into my particular focus for this piece of punk spirituality.
Talk to me about punk spirituality, and anything else intriguing!
In that sense, my Creative Practice, is about fieldwork – talking to people, finding out what they think, connecting with them. It becomes a whole dialogue where ideas and points of view can flourish and flow. This is most true in person but I also want it to be true for how I engage online. I think making that shift is really important for engaging well with people. And always remembering that an audience is made up of individuals, each with their own stories and experiences. Recording my experiences diligently is all part of that Practice, whether in note-form, with audio or photography together with other research – it forms part of my ‘field notes’ which has a similar function to an artist’s sketchbook – tracking the evolution of the idea and deciding how best to communicate it. It’s a work in progress but this is what I’m realising as I go.
I would also be lost without having read The Pyjama Myth; The Freelance Writer’s Survival Guide by Sian Meades-Williams. Although I’ve got this far, I have been largely making things up as I go along ever since I launched as a Freelance Writer three years ago, and I felt so seen when I read her book. It was brilliantly practical and no-nonsense. And it was both validating – I was getting some things right – and challenging; I needed to make some changes and upgrades to how I work.
So this is my Creative Practice, which, as I’ve now come to understand forms ‘the architecture of my creative voice’. The more I lean into it, the more momentum and clarity and opportunities I create. And the more confident I’m becoming – having the framework there, gives me freedom.
Something was going on in 1976. 50 years ago, it was like things really took off, and I don’t just mean Concorde’s first commercial flight. And while Concorde was ultimately decommissioned, other ideas and initiatives launched that year have endured. Among them; the Olivier Awards, Aardman Animations and yes, even the Undercroft Skate Space on the Southbank. Iconic in their own way, all of them celebrate their 50th anniversaries this year. And it doesn’t stop there. 1976 signalled such a coalescence of creativity, innovation and energy that its momentum has kept on rolling – permeating society and shaping culture right up to the present moment.
Let’s look at some more iconic beginnings from the year that made us.
Punk Music
You can’t talk about 1976 without talking about Punk. And the UK simply wouldn’t be the same without it. This year marks 50 years since Punk burst onto the music scene with the release of The Damned’s single New Rose. Shortly followed by the Sex Pistol’s Anarchy in the UK released a month later. It’s important because Punk music set in motion a profound shift in approach: inspiring a movement where everyday people realised they could just do it themselves. They didn’t need to wait for permission to follow their dreams or watch on as others ran away with things. Punk music expressed a frustration with the status quo and sparked a sense of anarchy towards established systems and ways of doing things – in its wake a raft of activity followed. Punk was characterised by grassroots energy and a DIY ethos which would not only influence music all the way into the Trip-hop of the 90s and beyond, but very quickly overlap with fashion, art, politics and social justice to become a cultural movement that would change society forever.
Photo by Gu00f6khan Baykal on Pexels.com.
The Body Shop
1976 was also the year the Anita Roddick founded the Body Shop – a ‘small green shop’ in Brighton with a big mission to disrupt and change the beauty industry through making cruelty-free products. This was groundbreaking – a major contrast to the accepted and all-too-common practice at the time of animal testing. And although this continues in very limited ways, the Body Shop, together with Anita Roddick’s campaigning and activism did much to challenge and reduce its practice. The Body Shop started small – a way for Roddick to support her family through owning her own business and making her own products. But she restructured the business so that further shops could be added through franchise. Although the brand was hit by controversy when she sold it to L’Oriel for millions of pounds, in its heyday and throughout the 80s and 90s, it exerted a huge influence on a generation of beauty shoppers, who for the first time were forced to consider the way their products were made and better ways of engaging with the beauty and cosmetics industry.
Dame Anita Roddick outside the Body Shop via thebodyshop.com
Apple Computers
In 1976 Apple Computers was launched by a three college drop-outs in Steve Jobs’ parents’ garage. It’s hard to imagine that Apple – as cutting edge and culture-defining as it is – has been around that long: 50 years. If there was ever be a set of products that would go on to change society, it would be Apple’s products. With their alternative version – and vision – of the personal computer Apple created a brand synonymous with style and creativity. So beautiful that Apple would easily find its products featured in TV shows and films. And so versatile and user-friendly that there was little argument in the necessity of owning an iMac, iPad and iPhone… And it was Apple’s iPod that changed the music industry in 2001 with “1,000 songs in your pocket”. Forget the need for a cumbersome walkman that you invariably had to hold or clip on; an iPod slid right in to your pocket leaving your hands free. This was thanks to Steve Jobs being joined by product designer Jony Ives in the early 1990s – a collaboration of shared ethos, marketing and design flair which would win consumers’ hearts and minds. Apple knew how to create sleek products that attracted generations of loyal customers and created a whole new way of engaging with technology.
Photo by Armand Valendez on Pexels.com.
Rough Trade
Rough Trade launched in 1976 – another small shop, for music this time, on Kensington Park Road near Notting Hill. On its website Rough Trade hails the 1970s as a decade of “restless creativity” where music crossed borders and embraced multiple genres. While these genres developed as distinct in themselves, others soon took hands with each other, re-forming into new genres like Two-tone (combining Punk, Reggae and Ska) imbibing the fresh sounds of a new multicultural Britain, and challenging existing ideas of the time. It proved music wasn’t neutral. Nor were fashion and art, which characterised the emergent scenes almost as much as the music itself. Genres arising from Punk carried its DNA and just like it, soon became cultural agitators and disruptors too. But it was the music that fuelled the movement. Later, in the 90s, this same DNA would inspire the Trip-hop which drew on Punk, Dub, Reggae – to name a few – mashing them together like a musical collage to create something entirely new. For its part, Rough Trade has stayed synonymous with musical discovery ever since, championing artists, new sounds and physical media like vinyl, ever since 1976. And on annual days like Record Store Day – we get to celebrate what independent shops like Rough Trade do best: bring people together around music.
The interior of a Rough Trade record shop via MusicWeek.
My parents
1976 was also the year my parents got married. Yes, they will be celebrating 50-years-married later this year: their Golden Wedding Anniversary. And in theory – although I was all but a twinkle in their eyes (I appeared a few years later), I owe a lot to 1976 too. My existence was already being cued up as they walked down the aisle and said their vows. It was certainly a year that shaped me – quite literally – without it I wouldn’t exist at all. But it also shaped so much of the thinking and culture that we experience today and get to enjoy about our society. Punk especially signalled the freedom to try – to do it yourself and have a go. Not only does this encourage creativity, it also took power back from the Establishment and put it into people’s hands, igniting a sense of innovation and change that would ripple out across the decades right up to the present moment. And pervading so much of our culture, it’s hard to imagine what being ‘British’ is without it.
Not my actual parents on their wedding day…via Pexels.com.
In summary, it’s fair to say that life would look very different today were it not for the events of 1976. The wider socio-political context at the time, marked by upheaval and a whole set of frustrations, forced the need for change. Importantly this was change that started at a grassroots level – galvanised not only by music, but by the creativity and sense of permission it gave; soon becoming a wider movement with an unstoppable momentum. What a legacy it has given us. And if it was possible then, is it still possible now? Here’s hoping. We need it now more than ever.
I have a theory. You can only hack the human operating system so far before you compromise it. It might be highly efficient to outsource things like writing to AI, along with other forms of creativity but at the same time these are fundamentally human-centric processes. We need to keep doing them ourselves in order to function well. What’s more, writing things down using pen and paper – rather than typing on a keyboard or using a digital interface – is where the magic can really happen.
Stephen Bartlett put it well in a social media post: “When you write things down, you turn chaos into clarity. Start untangling your thoughts, pen and paper is where order begins.”
Photo by Godfrey Atima on Pexels
Putting pen to paper is indeed where a sense of order begins: do you have a jumbled pile of things you need to do but no idea where to start? Write them down in a list. Do you feel overwhelmed? Write everything down on paper. Or are you trying to figure out what you feel about a difficult situation? Starting journalling and see the clarity emerge as you process your experiences. Naming your emotions as you go will also help to gently pull apart the tangled knot and straighten out the various strands into clear thoughts and feelings. It is a form of literacy to know what you’re thinking and feeling.
Its effectiveness is connected to ‘mark-making’ which requires coordination between hand, eye and brain. The same is true for drawing or painting – it helps us to regulate our emotions and process our thoughts. It both embodies and externalises them. And when you read words you’ve written back to yourself, you are creating a mirror. It is here you can gain a valuable sense of perspective on the condition of your own soul and the inner workings of your own heart and mind.
I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve arrived at the page of my journal feeling confused and burdened about a situation. But as I’ve put pen to paper, and written in longhand, it has forced me to create understanding – to make it make sense – for myself first and then for others. It’s unlikely anyone else will ever my journal unless I show them, but the result for me is being able to articulate better what I’m experiencing.
And without even trying to create meaning there’s value in doing this. Just the action of writing words on a page – even if they’re largely nonsensical is still worthwhile; as a ‘brain dump’ so to speak. This starts the flow of thoughts going so you can get to that place of understanding. Like the scum that forms when you’re boiling leftover chicken – bones and all – from Sunday’s roast dinner. As it simmers away you periodically skim it off the top to find the clear broth beneath. It’s a bit like that with journalling.
Photo by Juan Zamoran on Pexels.
This type of journalling forms a core practice within Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way. She calls it the Morning Pages. The intention is to open the creative tap and clear out the stagnant water which collected in the pipes overnight (I don’t know how far I can push this metaphor to be honest). Instead of clear intelligible thoughts, what lands on the page when you’re writing the Morning Pages should be considered dross, effluvium – you’re not even meant to revisit it. But by getting the creative flow – flowing – the process promises to release the good stuff. By flushing out all the concerns and randomness that fill our minds, the deeper ideas can surface. Under all that scum is pure gold. And there might even be some random ideas that come to mind while you’re flushing everything else out. That too is gold.
It’s good to make time for drawing too (and any other creative activities that involve making things with your hands). Again, it’s putting pen (or pencil) to paper for me. This is usually simple sketches in coloured pencil – either from life, or from images or paintings. I love going to the ever-popular Drop-in Drawing events on Friday nights at the National Portrait Gallery. Those gathered draw from any number of the portraits hanging on the walls of the Gallery – in response to a brief we’re given at the beginning of the session. Each time the sessions offer a new way to engage with the artwork, to look from a different angle, and create renewed meaning. We then get to show our work and discuss it with the tutor. And while this is absolutely about catharsis, it’s also really fun – it throws me back to my art school days. I always have a sense of rightness afterwards – like I’ve done something that has cared for my emotional, mental and creative health in some way. I feel lighter, I breathe deeper, I smile. It actually feels good for me. And it is. Engagement in the arts is proven to improve health outcomes as well as our overall wellbeing (see Daisy Fancourt’s new book Art Cure for a full look at this).
That’s the thing about our hand-eye-brain connection. It’s something which is built into our human design. That’s especially true if you’re a self-confessed Creative, where things like writing, painting or drawing scratch a fundamental itch, but we all have that creative faculty within us. We all have a need to ‘make’ something in some way. In terms of the science; the tactile, connected nature of putting pen to paper has cognitive and psychological benefits for us as humans – not least for memory retention, mental clarity and focus. Wider benefits include enhancing our overall creativity. As we make those marks, we also make cross-connections in our brains which spark fresh ideas and solve problems – enhancing our lateral thinking. The tactile and physical nature of it – we can touch and feel the pen and the page – uses more of our senses (rather than converting key strokes to pixels on screen).
The way I think of creativity is changing. Rather than a luxury or optional extra – a ‘nice-to-have’, I’m now beginning to think of it as an absolutely essential thing for us as humans to do. It’s something so basic to our human operating system – body, mind, soul – and spirit – that without it we fail to function properly. And the science backs this up.
“A new book, Art Cure by Daisy Fancourt, explains why engagement in the arts can actually improve health outcomes as well as contribute to our overall wellbeing. Dr Fancourt is Professor of Psychobiology and Epidemiology at University College London, and has built up a body of evidence from scientific studies over several decades to show that creativity and the arts do our bodies and minds serious good.” Read more at Woman Alive magazine…
If you read my previous post you will already know that I’ve been reading a lot of James Baldwin lately. And that one of the reasons his writing resonates with me is because it feels like music; specifically like jazz – which he said intentionally shaped his style. You can feel it in his cadence and phrasing; the sense of improvisation giving it an energy and freshness that continues to play across the decades and inform our present moment.
It was therefore, serendipitous (or maybe just algorithmic) when – shortly after I wrote it – I came across an article from the Institute of Art and Ideas (the people behind HowTheLightGetsIn Festival), on how music and creativity are in our very DNA. The article by molecular biologist Ewa Grzybowska, sets out how the existing paradigm for how DNA works (established by Crick and Watson), has been largely superseded in recent years.
Composite image by author.
The Science Bit
She explains that the established understanding – that DNA codes only for well-ordered, well-structured proteins is now basically redundant. And rather than a machine-like, linear, ‘1+1=2’ process (where one gene produces one structure which has one function), it is in fact something more akin to improvisation. While DNA sequences code for proteins, there are also non-coding sequences. This ‘superfluous’ genetic material was initially thought to be ‘junk DNA’ (even though this would have been jarringly inefficient for any cell to have), until its vital function was unearthed. It gets transcribed into non-coding RNA molecules which have separate functions from the RNAs involved in making the proteins themselves. And which operate as a “vast pool [of RNA]…involved in the regulation of gene expression” both before and after the DNA itself is transcribed. This, Grzybowska says, opens up the “vast new planes” of regulation and is responsible for this paradigm shift in how DNA is now understood. Meanwhile, they also found that some proteins can change their function, effectively moonlighting in other tasks; while others can change their structure, folding differently despite retaining the same genetic sequence. And then there are proteins with no stable structure at all – completely disordered, able to shape-shift according to their functionality. DNA is therefore less a blueprint and more a text to be interpreted.
What it all means
In other words, genetic material and proteins in a cell are agile; able to adapt and respond to changes in the wider environment. And rather than a production line, cell activity is “fluid, improvisational, and brimming with creative possibility”. Our DNA operates more like a live group of jazz musicians riffing and responding to each other and to what’s happening in the room.
It feels helpful to consider this when our present moment is forcing us more and more, to define what it is to be human, especially as we reckon with AI. But being human, may well come down to some very basic biological facts – the fundamentals, rather than anything high-minded or philosophical. If music and creativity are in fact coded into our very cells, what does that mean for our overall operating system as human beings? And therefore, how we can operate it well? Encoded in our DNA is this essence of creativity, immutably printed into our cells. More than that, it forms a responsive, collaborative and improvisational operating system which makes creativity central to our very lives and existence.
Creativity and being our most human
Recent studies, and books such as Art Cure by Daisy Fancourt, lend weight to the fact that we can only hack the human operating system so far. One thing we can’t get around is our need to create – to make things. Art, and creativity, in all its forms – is good for us. It is good for our basic humanity – our minds, bodies and spirits. A particularly powerful dynamic happens when we fulfil a creative idea and make it real ourselves, it might be taking a simple action, or making a drawing, painting, a piece of writing or sculpture, or anything else we might call “something we created”. When we create something with our own hands, whether it’s a paper aeroplane or an oil painting – there is an unmistakeable sense of exhilaration that accompanies that hand-eye-brain connection. And when we’re totally absorbed by it, giving it our full attention. But if we outsource our creativity entirely – both in terms of our thinking and our creative execution, to something that does it ‘for’ us, where does that leave us? We also risk missing out on the process of collaboration: the satisfaction of co-creating with others, and the joyful connection that can bring.
We need to ask ourselves what exactly are we gaining? And more critically, what are we losing? We may gain in productivity and output, but this can soon become a tyranny in itself. Sales pitches I’ve seen from AI companies are often based on a promise that their products will win us back valuable time, but this is a fallacy. Instead they drive more and more productivity. At a recent event I attended, several entrepreneurs declaimed the power of using AI agents to run parts of their businesses. Only to also confess that they were now working double their original hours, rather than using the time they’d won back for their own leisure or to be with their families. In one case, a founder said with a hollow laugh, that as a result of using AI, his 80 hour work week was now more like 160 hours.
There are already strong suggestions that AI can limit creativity and homogenise thought, if you’re in the habit of outsourcing those things to it. Though it may be wildly convenient to have the work done for you, without any of the struggle inherent in doing the work ourselves, we might be losing something more essential to our humanity in the process, injuring our capacities for genuine originality and human ingenuity. For something to feel worthwhile it often needs to cost us something – that it took some effort on our part. It’s that effort which intrinsically connects us to it. And it’s in our essential nature to create, we’re wired to make things, whether we think of ourselves as creative or not. It’s right there in our biology – in our very cells and DNA: that being human is having the ability to say: “I made that” with 100% conviction.
Curated thoughts on the nature of hope and why we will always need it
“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love.” 1 Corinthians 13v13
What’s so special about faith, hope and love and why do they – of all things – remain? It’s intriguing. The surrounding chapters of 1 Corinthians partly answer this in talking about Completion. That when completion comes – when all is resolved at the end of days – faith, hope and love will still be there, even as other things have faded away.
Somehow faith, hope and love materially endure. There’s no sell-by date on them, no need to throw them out – they will always be valid, always be needed. So much so that they will be essential to the ‘completion of all things’ to come.
So faith, hope and love are not ephemeral ideas. They’re real things, that have substance and can be evidenced; for now and the age to come. So with that in mind, let’s consider the second of these three things. Hope.
Hope is an Anchor
Hope and anchors have a long association. I’m sure I’m not the first to have come across a pub called the ‘Hope and Anchor’ and the reason might well be this verse from the Bible.
Hebrews 6v19 says: “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.”
What’s an anchor like? It’s really weighty – often being made of iron. It’s dropped into the sea, usually on a heavy metal chain or rope, attaching to the boat or ship. The anchor hooks onto the sea bed and stops the boat drifting, making it immovable. Ships without an anchor or anything else to fasten or moor them, are in trouble – if they can’t anchor they’ll drift. In choppy waters or storms especially they could come to harm, smashing up on rocks or against the cliffs. If a boat’s engine dies, or the wind suddenly drops there’s absolutely nothing to hold them fast, leaving the stranded.
And we ourselves have an anchor – which tethers the soul, attaching us to something rock-solid, immutable and immovable.
I’ve often felt God speak to me through ships. When I moved from Bristol – which is a maritime city with a harbour and docks – back to London, it was through ships that God confirmed that I needed to move. My old flatmates even got me a small piratey-style painting – drawn like a sailor’s tattoo which said ‘Homeward Bound’. This was true of our ultimate destination – heaven, as well as my home town of London!
Hebrews 6:19 is one of my favourite verses in the Bible. I had it as the background on my old most-beloved MacBook Pro which I ended up having for 13 years! That’s 13 years of seeing that verse every time I opened my laptop – almost daily.
In this passage God is setting in stone the promise that he made to Abraham: “I will surely bless you and give you many descendants”. He had sworn an oath – swearing it by himself because there is no one higher – imagine that: “When God made his promise to Abraham, since there was no-one greater for him to swear by, he swore by himself, And so after waiting patiently, Abraham received what was promised…People swear by someone greater than themselves and the oath confirms what it said and puts an end to all argument. Because God wanted to make the unchanging nature of his purpose very clear to the heirs [that’s us too] of what was promised…he confirmed it with an oath. God did this so that, by two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled to take hold of the hope set before us may be greatly encouraged.” Italics mine.
Hebrews 6 goes on to explain that: “[This hope] enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain where our forerunner Jesus has entered on our behalf. He has become a high priest forever…”
This hope is in Jesus. It is Jesus, who has accomplished all things, and ended the old covenant which required that people made atoning sacrifices for their sin. He became that himself, a once-for-all sacrifice — removing the curtain which separates us from the Holy of Holies where God. And so restoring our relationship with him. This hope anchors us fast, so that we won’t drift. Firm and secure – the confident expectation of eternal life and salvation in Jesus Christ.
I imagine standing just outside the Holy of Holies in the tabernacle, pulling that really heavy curtain aside, feeling the weight of it, never having seen what’s behind it – not knowing what to expect, but still pulling it aside with confidence to find Jesus standing right there and being welcomed in. And of course, when Jesus died on the cross we’re told in the gospels that this very same curtain was torn from top to bottom. Forever ending our separation from God. This cannot be undone.
So this hope is an anchor for our souls.
Song Inspiration – The Anchor by Crowder
Hope is Future-Oriented Faith
I find ‘Hope’ quite difficult to articulate – it’s a feeling but it’s more than a feeling. It’s a sense of wishful thinking but it’s more tangible than that. It’s optimism but that’s insufficient to describe it. It transcends circumstances and yet it’s entirely connected to them. It’s aspirational, it’s the life we dream of – that we long for. But it’s hard to quantify and understand.
A common dictionary definition is that hope is “a feeling of expectation and desire for a particular thing to happen”. But as we’ve already seen Biblical hope by contrast is more than a feeling – it is actual confidence: it’s a sense of certainty that something good will happen.
It’s hard to know where faith ends and hope begins. I had to really do some digging as to why hope is mentioned independently of faith in 1 Corinthians 13:13. Because hope is really similar to faith, but it is distinct from it. A really helpful way to think about it is that, faith is like an umbrella term. It provides the broader context relating to our belief in God, our trust in the person of Jesus and the finished work of the cross; the faith that things exist, or happened or can happen.
While hope is part of this, incorporating many of the things that faith is, it is still separate from it. Uniquely, hope points towards the future. It is future-facing. You could think of it as future-oriented faith. While faith is substantial, hope is directional. And we’d be lost without either. So we can conclude from this, that if ‘these three remain’, future-facing faith (as in hope) is of particular importance to be named alongside the broader context of what faith is. And as part of our existential reality even in eternity, it is an important orientation and posture for us to live by.
Another way to put it is that ‘biblical hope is biblical faith in the future tense’.
Hope is in the Suffering
Hope is an unseen guide as we navigate uncertainty. When all seems lost, it is hope that intervenes; to be rewarded and fulfilled in the realisation of one’s dreams. Equally there will be parts of life where hope isn’t fulfilled – yet.
Proverbs 13:12 says: “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life”. God wants to fulfil our hopes, dreams and desires. And if I have faith, that’s the substance of what I’m hoping for and those things yet unseen. It’s the evidence that they will happen.
Hebrews 11 opens with “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not yet seen.” More modern translations put it like this: “Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for.”
And in the midst of terrible suffering, illness, bereavement; or when people have been kidnapped, held hostage, or held prisoner they often talk afterwards of how important hope was to them. For those going through famine or war or any number of dreadful, painful circumstances; hope is all you have often to enable you to keep going. Hope enables us to bear suffering and to persevere through – for the promise of what’s on the other side. And when hope is lost – it’s catastrophic.
We saw amazing scenes at the end of January on International Holocaust Remembrance Day. During the holocaust, hope literally helped to keep people alive. It enabled them to keep going and not give up. In his book, ‘Man’s Search for Meaning‘, psychiatrist and holocaust survivor Victor Frankl observed the necessity of hope during his time as a prisoner in several concentration camps during WW2. He remembers in one camp how much they were hoping – however naively it proved to be (he acknowledges), that they would be home for Christmas, and it would all be over. When it became apparent that this wasn’t the case at all, their hopes were dashed. And seeing no reason at all to continue in the horrendous conditions, all hope was gone. At that point many gave up and died.
Hope is a Choice
Hope is a choice. It can sustain life in the most desperate of circumstances. As Victor Frankl discovered, and one writer commented: “While every external factor may root against you, one single act of internal defiance can counteract it all.” Hope is an act of defiance. Even though it has no bearing on the outcome per se, it is a vital internal shift and an attitude which arms you against things that could otherwise destroy you through despair.
Hope can even save you but it’s based on your disposition, not whether or when it is fulfilled. It could even be called a type of stubbornness. Making the decision to choose hope is powerful.
While hope can literally mean the difference between life and death, it can also affect all sorts of outcomes – recovering from illness or injury, or from losing someone or something, like a job. Hope is dignifying. In Victor Frankl’s own words: “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”
And though hope is fragile, it is indomitable. There are many who cite hope as a reason they survived through the worst of circumstances. Even a whisper or a glimmer – if there is still the smallest flicker of hope, God will not extinguish it.
Isaiah 42:3 says: “A bruised reed he will not break, a smouldering wick he will not snuff out.”
Emblems of Hope
This poem by Emily Dickinson conveys the fragility of hope – likening it to a bird.
Hope is the Thing with Feathers by Emily Dickinson
Hope is the thing with feathers – That perches in the soul – And sings the tune without the words – And never stops – at all – And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard – And sore must be the storm – That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm – I’ve heard it in the chillest land – And on the strangest Sea – Yet – never – in Extremity, It asked a crumb – of me.
Birds are known to be symbols of hope: as they fly freely, survive the harshest of conditions and sing as the dawn arrives day by day they signal fresh possibilities, freedom and renewal.
In her book ‘I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings’, Maya Angelou tells the first part of her own story – of growing up in an abusive home, how she was raped at a very young age and how the trauma caused her to suffer from selective mutism. But also how she found her voice and sense of agency and freedom to become a recognised writer, speaker and poet. Through that sense of Hope she burst out of the ‘cage’ to find her own voice, liberating herself and inspiring others to do the same. Her poem ‘Caged Bird’ from which the novel takes its name also captures the sense of hope that even a bird in a cage can sing of freedom can inspire others.
Caged Bird by Maya Angelou
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing in the orange sun rays and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn |and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom.
Someone else who became an emblem of hope for others was Corrie Ten Boom, a watchmaker who lived in Haarlem in the Netherlands. When WWII broke out, and Germany invaded; as a Christian, she and her family took God’s word over the word of the occupying forces. They gathered stolen ration cards and hid Jews in their home. When an informant tipped off the Nazis about their work, their home was raided and the family was taken to prison.
In prison they received word via the resistance that “all the watches in your cabinet are safe”. To their great relief, those they had been hiding had been transferred to other locations and were safe.
While imprisoned, she held worship services in the camp she and her family was held in, and shared from a Bible which had been smuggled in. Corrie Ten Boom writes about this experience in her book, ‘The Hiding Place’. She consistently spoke of the hope she had – sharing it with fellow prisoners and with numerous people through her subsequent writing and speaking after the war.
Song Inspiration – Oh Hope by Joshua Luke Smith
Hope is for the Unseen
Hope wouldn’t be hope if it we could see what we were hoping for. This is a really important aspect of what hope is. Hope is contingent on us not having what we are hoping for – yet.
Romans 8v18-35 reveals the power of hope on a cosmic scale, Paul says: “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God.
We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the first-fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies. “For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.”
Hope itself is a state of anticipation. Still, it can’t be separated from waiting and expectation. It is tied to waiting, and waiting patiently for what is unseen. If you have hope you will wait patiently.
Hope in the Waiting
In the Bible there are several Hebrew words which are used to describe hope, explained in this video from the Bible Project:
Yakhal – to wait for (as Noah waited for the waters to recede to reveal land while he was in the Ark)
Qavar – describes a cord, or a sense of tension while you wait, followed by release.
Elpis – describes living hope – based on Jesus resurrection, we can be reborn.
In the Old Testament, the prophet Hosea chose hope – in a time when there was nothing to be optimistic about. Israel was being oppressed by foreign empires. Like Hosea, choosing hope is part of the prophetic voice that Christians can have in society. Remembering what God had done in the past, to bring his people out of Egypt during the Exodus, Hosea applied it to the future, saying: “God could turn this valley of trouble into a door of hope.” God’s past faithfulness motivated hope for the future. We look forward by looking back – trusting in nothing other than God’s character.
Similarly, Joseph was a man of hope. For him his faith in God, translated into hope for his future. Having been sold into slavery he never gave up hope through the ups and downs, and numerous mistreatments that he suffered. And when God raised him up to be in charge of Egypt, it also had a great purpose. He had so many false starts – possibly the worst was being forgotten in prison, leaving him there even longer until – when the timing was right God had need for him. Genesis is very clear that despite his misfortune: “the Lord was with Joseph”. So hope in the waiting is also recognising that while we may not understand any of what is happening, and why, it is serving a greater purpose. Joseph saved his family, and by extrapolation, the twelves tribes of Israel.
Waiting is exhausting, both physically and emotionally. But this difference with hoping in God is that it renews our strength. And gives us supernatural strength too. It’s counterintuitive. The paradox is, as Isaiah 40: 31 says that as we hope, as we wait: “but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.”
Hope is in the Planning
Jeremiah 29v11: “I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope [a better life] and a future”.
A plan is a method or strategy for achieving a goal. And here Jeremiah is reassuring Israel that there a plans for a hope and a future. That hope as a tangible thing, is premeditated. It’s planned. The ball is already rolling even if nothing appears to be happening. God has a plan. Think about your last holiday – what plans did you make, to make that holiday a reality? Plans are evidence of a future reality. When you see an architects drawings, a blueprint or a business plan – that’s evidence of the future existence of the thing that you’re creating. It’s like an inheritance. There’s intention. Hope can be imagined, and imagined.
So while it’s fullest realisation exists in the future, it also exists now as the things God has planned. God has planned our future with him. In Jesus death and resurrection – our ultimate hope was planned – it had to be. It wasn’t an accident, or an afterthought that is trying to fix a botched job. It was planned. So if you hope for something, if you have faith for it you can take is as evidence of those things: “now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not yet seen”.
My Hope is in You
Throughout the Psalms there is a refrain: “My hope is in God” and a phrase which urges: “Put your hope in God”. The Psalms talk a lot about hope. And it’s often hope in God. David often encourages himself and others to “put your hope in God” It is for God himself that they are waiting.
Verses of hope from the Psalms
“May your unfailing love be with us, Lord, even as we put our hope in you.” Psalms 33:22
“My integrity and uprightness protect me, because my hope, Lord, is in you.” Psalm 25:21
“But now, Lord, what do I look for? My hope is in you”. Psalm 39:7
“Be strong and take heart, al you who hope in the Lord”. Psalm 31:24
“For you have been my hope, Sovereign Lord, my confidence since my youth”. Psalm 71:5
“As for me, I shall alway have hope; I will praise you more and more”. Psalm 71:14
“Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my saviour, and my hope is in you all day long”. Psalm 25:5
“Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Saviour and my God”. Psalm 43:5
“Blessed are those whose help is in the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord their God”. Psalm 146:3
Living Hope
And so we find that Biblical hope is based on a person. It’s different from optimism, and positive thinking. It’s not focused on circumstances and not based on things getting better.
This brings us to Living Hope – that hope is indeed built on a person, the person of Jesus.
1 Peter 1:3 says: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead”.
The Resurrection is central to our sense of hope as Christians. The risen Jesus is our ultimate hope through his death on the cross and his resurrection from the dead.
At the end of the day biblical hope, that which remains is established on the finished, settled work of Jesus Christ.
Song Inspiration – Living Hope by Phil Wickham
And Hope Does not Disappoint
Romans 5:4 – “we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame [does not disappoint us], because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.
Jesus himself suffered on the cross because of hope: “for the joy set before him [he] endured the cross”. Have you ever imagined that Jesus was a man full of hope? Hope enabled him to endure the worst suffering on the cross. In order to become hope itself – for us.
Song Inspiration – Cornerstone by Hillsong Worship
I first shared my up-skilling story at an online ‘INSPIRE’ event for the 50 learners on the 2023 Google x AllBright Reignite programme (where I was later to become Course Mentor). The group was working their way through the same Digital Marketing and E-Commerce Google professional certificate that I had completed in late 2022.
At the event I spoke with Ella Vize, then Head of Academy at AllBright. This article captures what I shared.
Tell us about yourself and your up-skilling journey.
My professional background is within creative, marketing and project management; working for corporates, charities, and with entrepreneurs and creative founders. I’d been part of companies’ marketing functions before – both in client services and managing creative teams – so after a career hiatus and lots of soul-searching I had decided that I wanted to go back into marketing. This seemed like a good route without having to completely start again. But this time I wanted to be a practitioner. Once I’d made my decision and started taking action, one thing after another opened up.
You had a break in your career prior to undertaking the Google certificate course, can you tell us a bit about your personal experience and career break.
My career break wasn’t exactly by choice. I didn’t decide to go travelling or anything like that. ‘Life’ happened. In mid-2021, just as it seemed we were coming out of the Pandemic, with things opening up and life getting back to normal: both my parents caught Covid. My mum wasn’t as bad but my dad became very very ill. There were multiple complications which meant he had five separate periods in hospital. At the time he was also my Mum’s main helper as she had struggled increasingly with her mobility over the preceding few years. It was definitely a crisis: I shelved any plans I had for my career and turned to looking after my parents. In the end it took about a year for them to get back on track and rehabilitate which I was closely involved in. Now they have a good set up and are doing well.
I realised afterwards that these kind of experiences aren’t divorced from our professional lives. Whether it’s caring for our elderly parents, raising children, or navigating personal challenges; we’re made, as people, ‘in the trenches’ of daily life. It forms character, it forms the ability to fully take responsibility and it forms leadership. Even that phrase we have: ‘taking time out of work to…. [fill in the blank]’ is an inaccuracy. We are far more integrated than that. So the experience you gain in your ‘off’ seasons contributes to your ‘on’ seasons in terms of professional work, and vice versa. It’s all experience – work is work, whether it’s professional (and paid), or not.
How did you come to find the Google certificate course?
I first came across Google Professional Certificates at a jobs fair. At first glance it looked great but I wasn’t sure there was anything for me specifically. After making my decision to return to marketing I looked again at the courses on offer and to my amazement they’d added Digital Marketing and E-Commerce. It was a no-brainer – exactly what I was looking for at the right time. I had the chance to revisit first principles and to up-skill in things I’d never done before. The Google Professional Certificate in Digital Marketing and E-Commerce enabled me to do both – I completed the course in November 2022.
During the course I learnt so much. The self-paced format meant I could fit it around my schedule and do more whenever I had the chance. I was hungry to get on with it. I was learning a huge amount and reinforcing some really important professional foundations. There were parts where I had more innate knowledge and ability, and parts that were completely new. There were things I loved and breezed through, and areas that were more challenging. Ironically mastering the more difficult sections has served me particularly well. For example the metrics and analytics module was the most intense to get through but now I have it I use this almost on a daily basis and it’s really enjoyable.
I loved hearing the stories of Google professionals – I was so encouraged by the different paths they had taken. So many career trajectories are non-linear and it was both fascinating and encouraging for me to realise that many of those featured, who had found their way into Digital Marketing had done so via a really unusual and interesting route. No one story was typical. I also really enjoyed the energy and encouragement of the trainers. In addition to what I was learning and practising, at that point in my life I really needed a ‘Hype Man’ or ‘Hype Woman’ and they certainly delivered. I started to feel more excited about the future and about the possibilities this would create. It has helped me rebuild my career and get my confidence back.
What has your career journey been like pre and post completing your Google certificate course?
Before upskilling I was definitely faltering a bit in my career. Even before the Pandemic (which was something in itself to navigate) I’d already lost a bit of direction. I’d had some big successes but I’d also had some major professional setbacks. And I’d tried a couple of avenues since which weren’t getting any ‘traction’. So my confidence had been battered. I was burnt out and beginning to wonder if this was it?
Also, I still hadn’t found a way to reconcile the two different parts of my skillset – being analytical on the one hand and creative on the other. Most of all I needed to acknowledge my creative side which I’d mostly put on the back burner in favour of more ‘sensible’ jobs. The Pandemic presented the opportunity to explore my creativity. And up-skilling in digital marketing has brought everything together. It has united my analytical and creative skillsets which has been one of the biggest game changers.
The course has been integral to my career journey since. I quickly got on with setting up a freelance business which has been a great way to test out my new-found skills. I designed my own website – which has opened up opportunities to do it for other people. I launched as a freelance Digital Marketer and Writer at the beginning of 2023. I started earning immediately; I found clients through my network and have continued working and gaining further experience. It’s been great to have this set of skills which enable me to help solve people’s problems. I’ve had some really interesting clients and projects and been able to incorporate other skills such as my coaching, project management and consultancy. Nothing is wasted.
Has completing the course boosted your confidence in your career and or skills & knowledge?
Yes. It absolutely has. I’ve gained a really holistic sense of confidence. It’s a confidence in my skills and knowledge which only continues to grow the more I do the work. It’s a confidence in my ability to learn and bounce back – there’s a proven sense of resilience there.
A game changer for me was adopting a growth mindset. Rather than feeling stuck I began seeking out more learning opportunities. I realised that one of the most important abilities I had was the ability to learn. This makes me excited for the future and how my career would develop from here – never stop learning.
I also began to shake off some of the negative messaging I’d taken on from the experiences and setbacks I’d had. Rather than believing I was a failure – I was able to reframe this: perhaps things had failed for good reason, and I could use them as a signpost towards new opportunities. I was able to repurpose negative feedback I’d received in a way that meant I could determine what I took on board: only accepting things that would actually be helpful for my growth, and leaving the rest.
Along the way too I learnt that it was important for me not to give myself away and rely on others for validation and approval. Instead I needed this from myself, and from people I really trusted – who I knew had my back. It felt like an important shift in terms of how I built a sense of confidence. I’ve gained a great deal of self-belief and self-confidence in being able to navigate challenging situations, find a way through and come out the other side. I now know I can trust myself to handle whatever comes my way.
The Creative Act: A Way of Being – written by music producer Rick Rubin – is not only beautifully designed but a unique and enlightening perspective on creativity.
Image courtesy of Penguin Press
It was also great to listen to Rick being interviewed on Jay Shetty’s On Purpose podcast. I found it inspiring stuff (also providing me with some useful thoughts for a content strategy I’m working on for a client). During their far-ranging conversation I was really pleased to be reminded of one of the best approaches to FEEDBACK I’ve ever heard.
Enabling you to “play Big”
I first came across this approach reading Tara Mohr‘s brilliant bookPlaying Big a few years ago. (I love these connections). The advice she gives, which Rick Rubin echoes, is this:
“Feedback doesn’t tell you about yourself. It tells you about the person giving the feedback. In other words, if someone says your work is gorgeous, that just tells you about *their* taste. If you put out a new product and it doesn’t sell at all, that tells you something about what your audience does and doesn’t want. When we look at praise and criticism as information about the people giving it, we tend to get really curious about the feedback, rather than dejected or defensive”.
Tara Mohr
Reframing Feedback
Reframing the purpose of feedback in this way makes ALL the difference. Tara offers further advice (see below) on navigating feedback in this article and in her book. “1. REFRAME the feedback: The feedback doesn’t tell you any facts about you; it tells you something about the perspective of the person giving the feedback. Reframe the feedback as information about them. What does this tell you about their priorities or preferences?
2. Is the feedback truly RELEVANT? Women forget to ask this, and instead feel they have to incorporate all feedback. We need to ask: is this feedback essential to incorporate in order to achieve my goals? Those goals might include professional ones (like getting work published) or personal ones (like a loving relationship with family members.) If the feedback is not truly relevant to your aims, you have permission to not attend to it.
3. REVISEyour approach. If your answer to #2 is yes, then you can think about how you can revise your approach to work with/relate to this person more effectively, now that you know more about their needs and perspective. Going back to #1, the feedback isn’t a verdict on how you measure up – it just tells you how to be more impactful in your relationship with them.”
Ultimately feedback needs to serve you. So by getting curious about the person giving the feedback, and taking on board the aspects of their feedback that best serve you, you’re less likely to invest so much weight in their opinions. Effectively you ‘unhook’ from the power that either their praise or criticism might have, and you’re able to determine how best to utilise it.
Alex Noel 