Hope is a choice. An easy one in times of plenty. A tougher one in the face of challenge. Cynics may think the hopeful to be naïve or in denial about “reality,” but there’s evidence on many levels – from cellular to societal – that hope is a powerful, generative antidote for a wide range of ills.
Last week, I posted an article with images of destruction – fire on the U.S. West Coast; a hurricane on the East Coast; and burned out buildings and destruction following a riot in the Midwest. The headlines that morning described a country in such deep chaos that there wasn’t room in the allotted time to mention anything happening beyond the U.S. borders. Looking at the lists and projects-in-progress covering my desk, I found myself in an existential quandary – Does any of this matter? How can my one little voice, in a sea of voices, possibly help make anything better?
Does any of this matter? How can my one little voice, in a sea of voices, possibly help make anything better?
Then I remembered excerpts from various calls over the past few weeks, stories of unbridled resourcefulness to keep businesses viable, to care for children, to provide support services for employees, and solutions for tech talent shortages in growing businesses that will also help workers and the economy.
And I listened to the stories after the headlines, the stories of resilience – selfless acts for neighbors; landlords offering creative funding and bartering opportunities to tenants to avoid evictions; executives taking voluntary pay cuts to keep their teams intact; creative service offerings and modalities that had breathed new life into a business.
And I reflected on the young – and the not-so-young – people featured above who’ve taken a stand for hope, for beauty, and for a positive future, despite very real personal experiences to the contrary. Instead of despairing, they used painful experiences as a springboard for hope.
No doubt, there are counterexamples for each of these stories, examples where people chose cynicism and despair. Both types of stories, however, remind me that hope is a choice. And every day, there are people who choose hope over despair.
Hope doesn’t prevent a hurricane or forest fire, but it does change how one prepares and how one recovers. Hope doesn’t prevent police brutality, but it does provide the energy to take the steps necessary to effect change. Hope doesn’t eliminate all pain or destruction, but choosing hope opens up new possibilities for action – actions to recover and rebuild; actions to prevent (or at least minimize) future destruction.
Hope is a choice, one we get to make over and over again in the face of challenge. Hope is a force that enables us to strive for better, an expression of faith that life will find a way. What helps you choose hope?
