Hope Is Hard
My favorite stories are about hope. Hope in the face of darkness and despair. Hope when all is lost. I write stories about hope. Hope to prevail in the most dire of circumstances. Hope to win against the impossible. Hope when you have nothing left.
I myself am often hopeless.
It is impossible to hope when you’re in the center of a storm. Even worse than a storm, a hurricane that is relentless and keeps crashing waves upon waves down on your tiny ship in the middle of the sea. I know that’s the part where the hero has hope but for me, that is when I lose it entirely. There is no glimmer of hope on the horizon for me.
Choosing joy is difficult. Personally, I have struggled to choose joy in the last six months. The seas have been rough in one particular category and, though I refrain from sharing details, when I tell you I had some of the worst days of my life, please trust I mean it.
But joy is a choice. Many people wake up each day and choose joy. They find joy in the smallest of corners. They are happy to be awake, be alive. They choose joy because for them, there is no other choice. Some folks may struggle making this choice but they find it in a smile or a hot cup of coffee. Maybe a new bud on their plant they thought they had killed.
Me? I was waking up with dread. I was cloaked in despair and darkness and joy was the last thing on my mind. I only wanted to get through the day and make it to the night when my body relaxed a little knowing sleep was near again and I could be numb for a while.
It sounds dramatic and intense and it was. For anyone who has gone through a traumatic event, you know of what I speak. Grief is a beast and it shifts and changes each day. Everything hurts and aches and you know you have to dig yourself out but maybe one more day of wallowing will help.
One day, after months of tears and therapy and wine, I chose joy. I chose it in my friends that held me up and checked in. My friends who celebrated me and supported me and played with me when I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave the house. My family who never gives up on me. I found joy in my cats who love me no matter what and are close by when they know I need it. My husband, my partner who went through this brutal journey with me and the little things we found together that brought light back in. I chose to find joy in food and sunshine and long walks. Joy in flexibility of time and moving my body. Joy in theater and writing and long chats with my critique partner that ended with new energy for our stories.
I continued to choose joy every day. The clouds were starting to part. And one day, the sun burst through and we got a surprise that I am confident was because I chose joy. I had hope.
This time, I did not despair. My stomach didn’t clench and I didn’t vibrate with anxiety. I kept choosing hope every morning that I opened my eyes. I chose to be happy, to enjoy that day because I truly did not know what tomorrow would bring.
When you have something taken away from you without warning, without control, without anything you could have done, you’re never the same. You can’t be. Not anymore. You never trust anything again and each corner is a possibility something else will be taken from you. My trust was shattered and yet, I chose to believe.
The universe is cruel. Look around us at the horrors we face each and every day. The universe also gives and this week, I received such a gift. A wish that I had wished so many times. I wrote about how tricky wishes are months ago and how sometimes, you have to wait for them to reveal themselves. And, like many wishes I wished before, it did.
It is hard to trust when you’ve been broken. It is hard to have hope. Even thoughts of Frodo and the ring didn’t help me and they always do. But that is why Frodo needed the fellowship. He needed that support and belief from his friends that he could do this. Hope that he had lost.
Hope is hard to keep. I’m sure I will lose it again. But sometimes, it comes through and rewards you for not giving up. Sometimes, hope prevails.
