Oh night, my ever faithful friend, thou commest with thy bewitchery and thine promises to me and thou expectest nothing save for my memories and longings. Yet 'tis a fair trade...
Waxing moon, silence, darkwave synth sounding, imagining, warm yet not scorching, on my own, yet not really alone, pondering...
Lately there seems to be more input that sort of pushes me toward reprising my earlier endeavors, such as writing, and playing an instrument. Although much has been lost these years since the great change, hope still remains strong.
And hope is something I've been thinking about for a long time now: what is hope? Not so long ago I defined hope as "strange word that is trying to sell me a non-existing future". But what if.... ah yes... me and my "ifs"... What if hope is something that is multilayered, with hundreds of faces, hundreds of corners,... what if hope isn't something fixed but what we ourselves create in order to help us overcome the worst kinds of fears and maybe start walking?
What if hope is an ever wavering state of mind in which we cling to the idea of a given type of success, even though this might be against all odds?
Well, following this stream of thought, I realized something... The types of hope I have had throughout my life so far, and how these have changed over time.
I used to have hopeless hope, the typical "everything will be alright, it will be dreamlike" kind, then went to the "I was wrong the first time, this time it's the real deal" kind, then to the "if I do this, this will definitely work" kind... by the way, don't look for any particular areas in which to apply these positions, I had used for those types of hope in all wakes of life.
What then, when crashing one time, and then another, and then another, like an endless succession of waves crashing against the sand before returning back to mother sea for more water-on-sand violence? Was I supposed to loose all hope? Am I then to give up and accept the dull grey "pass-through-the-world-do-not-alter-it" kind of existence?
Well, at this point there are, I guess, two ways of trying to interpret reality: either you go with the "this world is shit, there is no hope" position, or, my current favorite, "what the hell? let's live through this to the fullest, as if no bad things had ever happened".
"Why?" you might ask... "why not?" I reply.
We are always so afraid of things going the wrong way, of how many bad turns there are to take, of how many betrayals we might encounter along the way, of how many people might disappoint us, of how may issues will remain unresolved, of how many grudges will spawn...
And then I say, what if against all odds this is it (if there is such a thing as an it), what if there are no bad turns but merely a few rough jerks to the steering wheel; what if there are no betrayals because or own actions and thoughts make them impossible for other people to do; what if all new issues are resolved on the spot, what if no grudges spawn at all because we dare embrace life to the fullest, even though we know we all have an expiration date... what if we just dare to fear Fear itself, as it is the bravest thing one can do.
What if we try to look at life once more through the eyes of the child we, at some point, held under lock and key because our society ordered us to; what if we step aside from the grey being we are expected to be and to become, and we dare to risk each and every last of our breaths to enjoying even the tiniest bit of life itself until our unwanted doom... and what if we then dare to call this hope.
This I gift you with.
"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write
poetry because we are members of the human race, and the human race is
filled with passion. Medicine, law, business, engineering, these are
noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty,
romance, love, these are what we stay alive for."
Robin Williams Dead Poets Society