Helplessly Hoping

hope |hōp|
noun
a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen

As human beings, we possess emotions we wish to abolish. Jealousy is the primary culprit, followed by, yes, hope. No, I’m not morbid, negative (well, not all the time), or illogical. I truly believe hope is an ineffective, and sometimes damaging, state of being.

When your life seems to cave in on you, you hope for a different outcome, something that COULD be, or something that you SHOULD have done (it’s no surprise to anyone who knows me well, that I hate the word “should”). You become bound by that hope, thinking that it will work in your favor. You begin to imagine scenarios that don’t actually exist, fueling that hope, but also adding fuel to the fire of reality, its flames detracting you from what’s real, now. (I’m being vague on purpose. I don’t intend to make this entry a sob story.)

I use the words “hope” and “wish” interchangeably. Both represent ideal situations other than your own. Hope is merely an emotional state, not a force that effects changes. For a cancer victim, hope is often a force to be relied upon. Although I have never experienced a terminal illness myself, I think that possessing hope, in that light, is morbid. In those situations, I prefer to use the term, “progress.” Progress is not conditional or representative of a situation that isn’t; it simply is what it is.

Part of a philosophy I’m immersing myself in is learning to take things at face value, and stop hoping. Buddhism- you guessed it. I’ve never been a religious person, but always a spiritual and curious one. It’s just a smart way to live, from what I’ve experienced so far.

From my personal experience, I find that hope only fuels my anxiety and worry over the unknown. That’s truly no way to live, and I’m learning that day by day.

I close with the following lyrics that resonate strongly with me right now:

Helplessly hoping
Her harlequin hovers nearby
Awaiting a word
Gasping at glimpses
Of gentle true spirit
He runs, wishing he could fly
Only to trip at the sound of good-bye

Wordlessly watching
He waits by the window
And wonders
At the empty place inside
Heartlessly helping himself to her bad dreams
He worries
Did he hear a good-bye? Or even hello?

They are one person
They are two alone
They are three together
They are for each other

Stand by the stairway
You’ll see something
Certain to tell you confusion has its cost
Love isn’t lying
It’s loose in a lady who lingers
Saying she is lost
And choking on hello

-Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young: “Helplessly Hoping”

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Published in: on June 14, 2010 at 7:45 pm  Leave a Comment  

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