The lucky ones

For many decades, everything seemed to be getting better. Children were growing up wealthier than their parents, and peace was becoming the norm. At least in Europe it was like this — in places like the Congo and Gaza, war and poverty have long thrived.

Today, whether I watch the news or look to the heavens, the outlook isn't great. Astrologically, there's talk of fiery and revolutionary war energy building up — with comparisons to the time of the French Revolution. Meanwhile, NATO is preparing to demand that all member states spend 5% of GDP on defence. Governments are saying people need to get ready for war, and genocides have become okay to ignore.

Why fool myself? No, it ain't looking good.

Sometimes I stare at the absurdity of it all, at the fact that, really, it didn't have to be this way. We have all the means to live happy and healthy lives – together, all of us, on the same planet Earth. It deeply saddens me to know that most of today's suffering is self-inflicted. No vicious gods, no asteroids, no lethal plagues — humans are the ones responsible.

Here's the depressing part: I can take a thousand little steps and change myself, but on a larger scale, I can't do much — if anything. The bus, with its eight billion passengers, is running wild, and all I can do is guess what lies behind the dark corner we're heading toward. The brakes are broken, impotence is the domineering feeling.

And the happy part?

For many, there is no happy part. For the families of the hostages still alive in some tunnel under Khan Yunis in Palestine — how could there be a happy part? Or for the Russian mother who just lost both sons in a Ukrainian attack. Or for the children working in gold mines in Mali, with daily exposure to toxic chemicals and zero hope.

And then there are the others. Me — probably you too. We might struggle with illness, inflation, intolerances, grief, fear, frustration, and the insanities of the world, but still: for us, there is a happy part. We are the lucky ones.

We can shop in fully stocked supermarkets, quit a job and find a new one, follow our dreams, move to another country, and even go on holiday. Most importantly, we can choose to create moments of beauty and peace. Not all the time, but sometimes.

We just have to remember.

On June 9th, Jupiter, the planet of growth and gratitude, will move into the sign of Cancer and stay there for one year. Cancer is a water sign, symbolizing home, protection, and the past. It's a time to remember the good moments filled with love and care, and to nurture our optimism for the days to come. To embrace the tribe — whether that means a whole village or just one person. To be generous with compassion. And if everything goes wrong in the outside world, to retreat to the safe harbour of an inner journey.

War is threatening, AI is accelerating, trees are dying. But there is also hopeful Jupiter. And in times when even Jupiter can't help, my mind drifts to the children labouring in those toxic gold mines. I try to imagine how much they would love to have my opportunities. And then I wonder: wouldn't it be a sin to let those opportunities go ungratefully to waste?

That doesn't mean I'm automatically happy when I think about the misery others have to endure — far from it. But I can't deny that this shift in perspective makes my own suffering feel a little less important.

Indeed, we are the lucky ones.