I have this friend who always says, “Piss on a bunch of hope.” I think this is because he suspects that hope is a delusion, masking, somehow, the deeper and more interesting and useful reality of any given situation.
Hope, as it is defined, is not a given. It is to live in the expectation or wish that something we desire will occur. Now, to be honest, that does sound a little delusional, does it not?
Or IS hope a given, meaning is it intrinsic to us, that we always have it, that we are we born with it? Do we have it until something takes it away? Do we strengthen it when we are tested?
Or do we choose hope, at some point so early in our lives that we don’t remember doing so?
And do we give up on hope, for whatever reasons? Or does hope simply drain away from us, as we watch its disappearance in utter despair?
WHAT IS HOPE?
That is what we will be exploring here during the next 40 days. I invite you to join me and to share your thoughts, because this is a really important question. Your replies will allow others to learn from you, so please don’t be shy.
How glorious it will be to reach Easter Sunday with a true, heart-felt answer to this question, and how amazing you will all be for your willingness to fight your way to such an important declaration: “I know what hope is!”
A poem for today from the utterly fabulous Naomi Shihab Nye, about fretting, and worry, and in the end, simple reassurance.
Scholars debating Chinese zodiac,