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Meditations

What is Hope?

I don’t need hope.

Why would I regulate what I can have now to hope?

Maybe it’s because I haven’t considered what I have now as much as I should have.

To drop into a senseless void to make sense of it all.

There are so many things at play here.

So many things I’ve only just come to understand and it doesn’t seem like it’s going to let up anytime soon.

Every time there’s a lull, things get turned over.

And then the spontaneous bursts come.

What is hope?

Hope is a whining. It’s a crying into the night when nobody can hear you.

Hope quite literally blinds you.

Hope is the natural result of believing all of the lies society tells you.

What if hopelessness was the greatest joy a human could experience?

What if you were working with only that which was in front of you?

You think of hopelessness and your mind will jump to dread and doubt.

But there is no doubt.

The here and now is solid; there’s nothing to dread.

Hope is an addiction to illusion.

It’s a constant state of “what if”, and “yeah but”.

Hope is the idea that the next moment will be better than the last.

Hope is a newborn baby, abandoned in the middle of Times Square.

Hope is all of these things.

But because we’re taught that we’re not enough, we hope, hope, hope.

What if who you were now, was the most valuable thing you had?

What if you really saw it this way?

When you were young, you were told these would be the best years of your life.

You were told that you’re only young once.

Did it do anything for you?

Did you not live in anguish?

Why?

Because you hoped for something else.

Not all of the time.

But when you did, there was struggle.

Hope kills.

It kills the moment. It kills who you really are.

It kills your clarity and genius and sense of peace.

It makes you susceptible to lies and those who would lead you astray.

The hopeful are easily manipulable.

Always looking for something to “improve” their existence.

Always looking for something to “improve” their image.

The hopeful are bedridden until they develop bed sores.

And then they’re sold something to help even this.

What does the hopeless need?

Why would he need anything at all?

He knows nothing will bring him anything.

It may for a moment, but then it’s gone.

And then another year will go by.

And then another.

Haven’t you lived the past 10 years alongside hope?

More?

You’ve made a hobby of hope.

And what did this get you?

A life of struggle?

The successes that you had, did you hope your way to them?

Did you hope your way out of bed today?

Did you hope your way to the grocery store?

But I bet you did hope for something today.

Did you get it?

Hope is like playing Russian roulette.

You can hope, hope, hope — until nothing happens — or you’re dead.

Hope is a constant state of anxiety from which you beg the grace of God to cure.

But God knows nothing of hope.

Hopelessness isn’t dark. It’s not emotional, nor dramatic.

Didn’t you see what happened to Tom Hanks in Cast Away?

He had the hope sucked out of him by that desert island and learned to live on it in peace.

But even the sliver of hope that remained disappointed him, when he returned to civilization and saw the truth.

If nothing leads anywhere, there is nowhere to go.

And when there is nowhere to go, you’re free to go anywhere.

Or stay right where you are.

I have experienced the total loss of hope a handful of times in my life, and it’s one of the most freeing states available to man.

It’s empowering.

When you know there’s zero chance of anyone or anything on the outside saving you, you stop wishing for it, and begin to make the bed you’ll sleep in.

The mind goes silent.

It accepts its fate.

And peace becomes yours.