The Darker Side of Hope
My pragmatism can have its own dark side. When I look into the evening sky and gaze in awe at a glorious full moon, I simultaneously know there is an unlit, cold, and foreboding side which I cannot see. This is the way of almost all things, the yin and yang of existence. Hope is one aspect of our lives where we can all imagine the possibilities within our dreams, where we can close our eyes tightly and wish for a better life, a better outcome, and a more joyous potential. But what happens when that hope is unfulfilled, when the path in front of us leads to loss and desperation, where the precipitous drop from the high of hopefulness to the depths of despair rocks our already tenuous faith in humanity?
I understand that without some kind of hope, many of us would have thrown in life’s towel years ago. It was and still is that spark of the potential, of the imaginable, that can continue to lead all of us towards grabbing for the brass ring. If we didn’t have hope maybe we wouldn’t reach for that ring in the first place. And having some kind of faith that we can move beyond our past baggage or the obstacles we face allows us to do whatever we can to find the promises we believe exist in our future.
My view of hope is similar to that of climbing a high wall and standing on its top. From that vantage point we can see into the distance and view the possibilities in life. But standing on that wall is also perilous for when hope fails us and we fall from a height, we are more likely to land in a heap, damaged and broken than we would if we just fell over from a standing position.
Barack Obama built his political career on the concept of Hope, that with a sense of the potential in humanity we can become a better version of ourselves. In his 2006 book, The Audacity of Hope, with a subtitle of Thoughts on Reclaiming the American Dream, he lays out the idea of believing in Hope for a better tomorrow. A majority of the citizens of this nation bought into that feeling, that vision, by twice electing him as president. Yet many of those who supported him did not find that promised hope fulfilled and instead, eight years later, opted for a different kind of vision, a vision offered by a huckster who supplanted genuine strength with platitudes and lies.
By no means am I suggesting that we abandon hope just because there is a downside to much of it. What I am proposing is a tempered form of hope, a pragmatic version where we don’t just wish for change, but we take personal responsibility for moving in a different direction. Hope by itself is a passive substitute for engaged action. We can keep hoping for a better outcome but unless we become personally involved, it’s just a vacant dream that will never come to pass.
One of my least favorite aspects of the flood of online solicitations is the political petition where the signer is offered a false hope that if they add their name to whatever the cause de jour may be, it will somehow make a difference. It won’t. Perhaps it is there just to capture your name for future solicitations or worse, the perpetrator of the petition wants to acquire your information for more nefarious reasons. Whatever the intent of the person or organization offering these petitions, they give people a false sense of actually doing something, of becoming involved in a way that is ultimately useless.
So keeping hope alive and well is a wonderful goal, but only within the context of involvement. I believe that people in general long for hope. We want to dream and find a way to live without fear or want. But that vision doesn’t just happen. And when we can dream together and build together and become proactive together my sense is that hope is no longer as important because the reality of our lives is a testament to reaching the goals we have set for ourselves through the dream.
This nation was founded on the idea that we “can form a more perfect union”. The signers of the Constitution believed in hope, knowing full well that we humans were imperfect and needed to immerse ourselves in the vision of the possible to even begin to approach that more perfect union. We still have this potential, but the more we just hope for it instead of creating it, the deeper we will sink in the quagmire of our own making. And eventually we will lose what little hope we still have.
One of the things that kept hope alive for my father in a WWII POW camp was thinking about how he was going to remodel his mother’s kitchen and bring running water into the house. Assuming he survived. I think about my Dad a lot. Especially lately. Obviously, in his position at the time, he could only make the plans in his mind. And that was his action. He did survive. He got home. He remodeled the kitchen for his Mom. He had the plan. He executed it. And went on to be of service his entire life.
Georgia – That’s a wonderful story and one that illustrates an aspect of hope that I didn’t include in my analysis. When incarcerated, whether in a prisoner of war camp or in prison for a crime, hope can be an invaluable crutch to keep one going.
Hopium = a more perfect union.
That train has left the station. We’ve exchanged community, discipline of our desires for a fist full of dollars.
But what is possible? I mean locally. Is it possible to lobby your village mayor and council to pass an anti-ICE ordinance? That is a proscription of using any village property for ICE operations? Why not?
Sure it would be symbolic. Symbols matter. Especially if you are a resident of Latin American ethnicity.
Symbols mattered more when humanity had the intellect and comprehension to understand them and to act accordingly. In today’s society symbols have lost their meaning, much as truth stands for nothing since it’s as malleable as soft butter. I sound like such an old guy when I yearn for days of greater structure. When words had a more universal meaning that allowed us to discuss ideas on more level ground. Then again, perhaps I’m being naive and just misremembering the past.
Symbols matter as long as our language enabled species exists. Certainly the past was distinct from the present. Symbols gave rise to a truth linked to a particular historical context. There is no doubt that we are living in a “in between”, liminal time.
Recently having visited the cathedral at Chartres, viewing the reliquaries containing relics of saints, I prefer living in our century as unsettled as it is proving to be. – to the existential straight jacket of the 12th century.
Those considering us as the enemy understand that symbols matter. Consider what has been done to the White House, and the plans in store to morph the building into a performance dais for American fascism.
No matter how hard we fall, it is always possible to find hope and beauty in the natural world. Lobelia growing out of the sidewalk crack always gives me hope and belief that the we will survive the worst of storms.