Hope

There are a lot of artistic endeavors dedicated to the idea of hope. Songs, poems, paintings… even references in organizations such as the Masonic family. It is a beautiful ideal, going back so far in time it’s relatively untraceable. Pandora’s box, for example, let out all the terrible things into the world, but managed to keep hope.

And yet, for something so wonderful, that is meant to sustain us, make us strong, give us motivation and a reason to live… I feel like it’s also one of the most destructive and deteriorating things ever.

To hold on to hope is to constantly be wounded by despair and anguish – because so long as we are hoping, we are not truly fulfilled. There is always this driving need for MORE. And not necessarily in a greedy way, like wishing to win the lottery or look better physically… it’s more this internal desire that is hard-wired into us and then fed by the media to keep us always hungry.

Hope for love, hope for better things (for yourself or others), hope for things to change… hope is like this demon disguised as an angel that is slowly leeching the brightness from our souls as time goes on. Hope just keeps on hoping, and rarely ever turns to satisfaction – even if one hope does “come true”, there are always more things to hope for.

Yet those that give in to self preservation and give up hope are looked down on, for being pessimistic, or “party poopers”. I’d rather live in the truth and have realistic expectations than be constantly drained by hope.

But without hope… it seems to kill some inner light in people. Without hope you become this lifeless, empty shell, devoid of the ineffable things that make us human.

So really, when people describe Pandora’s box as being seemingly valuable, but is actually a curse… are they talking about the container that holds hope, or hope itself?

Published by

MoistKumquat

Who am I? I'm really not sure anymore. But I want to find out.

One thought on “Hope

  1. In my experience, there’s nothing wrong with hope, any more than there’s anything wrong with love. It becomes a problem, however, when it becomes the entirety of one’s focus. As we sail across the sea of our lives, if we focus on the mirage of the islands of happiness on the horizon, we paradoxically get further and further from happiness itself. We hope to be happy, to find love, to create success. Yet those hopes, couched in some future maybe someday, take us away from being in the here and now, dealing with the facts of the situation and ourselves, ignoring the choppy waters around us.

    Happiness is not an island on the horizon. Happiness is a seabird that is just as ardently chased, ever out of our reach no matter how much we set our course to follow it.

    If we instead improve our ship, and work to keep ourselves seaworthy, and accomplish what we can with work and focus on the here and now, the bird will land when we least expect it.

    Again, just two cents from my experience.

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