I believe in hope. I think I have to. If hope weren’t a part of my life, that would leave despair to fill its place. And there’s just no point in that, now is there?
As I raise my children, I find signs of hope sprinkled throughout all my days. Some days my hopes are high and strong ”“ hope for victorious track meets, hope for excellent report cards, hope for thoughtful behavior from the children. Other days, hope flows like a weak stream through muddy terrain ”“ hope for contrite children, hope for apologies, hope for early bedtime. Either way, there’s still hope, right?
In my quest for this elusive optimism, I’ve decided my complaints don’t garner me anything. Oh, sure, it’s easy for me to complain about having a house full of loud children, but let’s be honest here, don’t we all have something we could complain about? Try it. It’s easy! I certainly know I could write myself a lengthy list of every objectionable part of my life. But what do I get from that? I just get mad ”“ a robbed by the injustice-of-the-universe kind of mad. I don’t get any solutions or help or support or anything actually useful. And so it is, I cling to hope.
Living with an expectation of good things has, in fact, brought good things into my life. By expecting and trusting in good behavior, for example, I find good behavior drapes itself on my children more easily. By trusting in the goodness of others, I find myself seeing that goodness. If I leave the house angry and upset, I notice that all the drivers on the road are also angry and upset, trying to cut me off or run me over. Realizing that one thing alone made me aware that I was always going to see whatever I was looking for. If I want to see anger and hurt, I can always find it.
I don’t want to.
I want calm. I want my hope to run deeply through me. Many days it does. Many days it doesn’t. Some days bring hope for bright futures and happy endings; some days bring hope for successful damage control and stronger resolutions. But I haven’t given up on hope. I don’t like the alternative.
YES! Thank you, thank you, thank you for writing this. I feel exactly the same. I have a family member who married a pessimist. It is so hard to talk with this person when they don’t want to hear any type of optimism. Trying to see the bright side of things (or as you mentioned, seeing the goodness in others; giving them the benefit of the doubt) is hard when we allow ourselves to wallow in negativity. I know I’ve done it often, but I just can’t bring myself to dwell on it for too long. There’s just too much greatness and happiness in life –why would I intentionally miss out on it?
Great post!
Beautiful, Justine.
“Some days bring hope for bright futures and happy endings; some days bring hope for successful damage control and stronger resolutions.”
Amen.
I love the concept of ‘hope’. To me it is optimism + faith. Being able to give the gift of hopefulness to our children is a beautiful thing.
You make it sound so easy. I think I have more hope in really dire situations than I do in mundane. I have more hope that my aunt-in-law will overcome her cancer diagnosis than I do in having a clean house.
i would like to think i’m hopeful, but i don’t know that i am. maybe i’m hopeful for hope? this is a good reminder to me and very oprah of you, justine.
(i mean that in a good way.)
or should i say “hope-rah?”
(okay, i’m stopping.)
Thanks, Justine. I need to open myself to hope more. And kindness.
Wonderful, Justine! And timely–thank you!
Here! Here!
Wonderful post Justine.
I found your “article” via the bloggernacle and I must say what beautiful insight on life. Your writing was truly inspirational to me and very true and honest.
Kim