Seriously: what about hope? What is it? What's it worth?
I've considered hope for weeks, turned the question over and over. It's the thing with feathers. I'm a little discontent: that's a little too quick, a little too easy. (Not that there's nothing to be said for hope as the thing with feathers. There's a hell of a lot to be said for it.)
Time used to be where I'd write thoroughly about such things, have an analysis party. But... I am not so moved. (If you've been checking my blog lately, I haven't been too moved lately.) Why not? Dunno. Feeling like thinking is in many ways a dead end. It's not, of course: thinking is good for lots of things.
I can link the notion of hope with having any sort of positive vision for a future. Any notion that things may be all right, after all. It's hard stuff to come by. Really hard.
After all, the future is nothing if not uncertain. Ergo, happiness is uncertain, too. (Of course, I could imagine the logistics being more difficult than they need to be, the hurdles greater than they are. Of course I could be.)
And, yeah, sure, it doesn't exist, none of it, but it persists in appearing to exist, so I seem to persist in behaving as though it does exist. And I don't consider its non-existence all that often. Really, I don't do much analysis, anymore. Not the long way; perhaps the short way.
But, what about hope? When dreams seem possible; when a sliver that could lead anywhere, but gleams nonetheless, seems to draw a little closer, when the odds seem a little more favorably balanced... one could call it hope.
At the same time; how is that any more than a distraction? The eternal is, and was, and ever shall be. Of what use is hope when that is the constant? Everything, nothing, longing, no longing. So back into it - illusory? - immanent! - pain, suffering, love, fear. The whole spectrum. Alone - and not. Breathing paradox.
Well, there's some musing for you. No answers, no need for answers. Just musings.
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9 comments:
Hope is not the greatest thing.
Relationships are messy.
Love is a filthy thing.
Happiness is immanence. Being in the body. Being the Body.
I d'no. I've spent my life thinking, and now I'm turning against it. Can't not do it. But no longer trust it the same. Thinking is just one part of us, somehow raised to be seen as the only part that matters. I no longer believe that.
It's ok to talk out loud even if there are no answers. :) As someone holding on to hope, I'm not sure what I 'think' about it, but I'm attempting to live with it...
V -
I think somebody once said the greatest of these is love. So - love, filthy? How so?
I do, though, think there's much to be said for immanence.
Hayden - I'm certainly back and forth, too. Thought has its uses and limits. Not to claim to have detailed the boundaries... but I've got a much better idea than a couple of years ago.
Trev - I'm glad you approve. ;) I think my historic question-answer ratio has been pretty skewed toward questions. In any event, go for it!
There is no use for hope. It is an illusion because one thinks things will get better than they are now. This is like hoping for spring because the winter is colder than you expected. But the seasons are not "good" or "bad", they just are. Change/evolution is the only constant and it is beyond such dualities. So, be who you truly are. Anything that springs from that fount will be more real and truthful than any external perceptions (even these words). Be the holy soul that you are.
Change is change... but holy? Who's to judge that?
"Feeling like thinking is in many ways a dead end."
So I've arrived here and agree with this point. I don't want to think anymore. I simply want to be (as in human BE-ing). :)
Now, I can be. And with a hope that sustains me in a new way.
New take on the sentence you quoted:
Feeling, like thinking, is in many ways a dead end. Ah, punctuation. Special stuff.
Hope... for what?
Human, being. A being that is human. A human that is be-ing. (Bit of a George Breed moment for a second there, ha!) But, I get what you mean by that, too.
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