How do I want to live my life, in times of little hope

What is the through-line that will be my holding stone?
What is the light that will glimmer in my heart, until the end? The flame I choose to tend to, and venerate, and be warmed by?
How to hold what hope there is? And what else is there, if anything, that I may build an altar from, to lay my life before?
How do I choose to love my unborn children?
How do I look into the eyes of my loved one; the soul I wish nothing more than to love and protect?
How do I choose to face my nearing obsolesce? And how do revere, and give all of my remaining fire to, my agency; the agency of humanity’s deserving children?
How do I look at the future clearly, honestly, without despairing? And how can I be brave, without deluding? How can I be steadfast and beaming, in a world that’s moving ever faster, on an orbit so far from the sun?