Gabby at The Veggie Nook posted this, sharing (among other things) her thoughts on the topic of hope as part of a Blog Relay – which looks as if it all started back here at Melanie Crutchfield’s blog. (Always interesting to learn what pops into people’s minds as they are either savoring or suffering their daily runs.) I’m honored that Gabby included me in her list of bloggers invited to join the relay. Then Kristy at Keepin’ it Kind jumped into it with her thoughtful post (and yummy recipe) and also tagged me to share my thoughts. Thank you, ladies! I have to admit to having flashbacks to hastily-penned and awkward high school essays on this one, but the power and mystery of hope has been a major player in my personal drama over the past two years, so I decided to sharpen my No. 2 pencil and add my post to the relay.
Hope and reality. Two words not often paired together, though they should be. Without a good dose of sober reality, hope is a pretty bag with a hole at the bottom, a remote without batteries, a car with its tank on E. Without information and planning, dedication and sometimes sheer muscle, hope is a merely a dream into which one surrenders their future to the vagaries of chance. If you are like me, you do your best to plan for every contingency. There is comfort in imagining possible scenarios – no matter how ugly those scenarios might look – and planning accordingly. It’s why I almost always bring food with me when I’ll be away from my house; why I make lists and why I find strength and solace in redundancy: save it in a computer file, but better have a hard copy on paper tucked away as well.
Hope’s role is that it fuels reality. Hope is reality’s muse – and no revelation here – it is what gets one to face what’s coming; it’s what gets one through challenging circumstances. That somehow, somewhere along the line, circumstances will improve. Reality tempers; hope inspires. What surprises me is hope’s persistence. (I know, I know “hope springs eternal.” But what about “all hope is lost?”) Hope can be quite determined and persistant. It inserts itself into one’s affairs, offers advice, gives a kick to one’s backside. It can sidle up slyly or appear with the force of a freight train. I’ve had the unsettling sensation of feeling low with sadness and loss and then suddenly, right into the middle of all of that heaviness comes a light sensation, a feeling of happiness that appears without provocation or request. It’s disconcerting and makes me feel a little guilty. Yet I never want that feeling to go away. A powerful team, hope and reality.
Hope for the best; prepare for the worst.
I’m going to shirk my relay responsibilities here and just open it up to any blogger who wishes to tackle this topic and add their voice and point of view. All of the posts I’ve read so far offer a different, interesting angle and I’m sure there is a bottomless well of thoughts on the topic. Please, relay on.