Hope

A young lady who was once my student when I was lecturing in a Uni, who for some unknown reason suddenly became unable to walk. Not only that, she has been (and still is) in so much pain 24/7 that steroid jabs are useless that it has now reached the morphine state. And she's allergic to painkillers! It's either pain or allergy. And she's been to the ER so many times that she's a 'regular' there. And there is no answer or cure (or clue) to her condition.

What started me thinking was this sentence which she said, 'I started living when I stopped hoping'. 

That struck me as it was an oxymoron. Isn't hope the thing that steers one to live? Isn't hope the thread that hangs us onto the light at the end of the dark tunnel? Isn't hope the thing that keeps us going?

But then if by hoping, we end up in despair or it suffocates us to the point we lose ourselves and everyone around us; It leaves us consumed and burned with bitterness by hoping, and die on our insides, is it worth hoping?

I had hoped that I would be healed of this idiopathic anaphylaxis. I had hoped that I could go back to lecturing or even teaching part-time when Joel turned seven. I had hoped that I could go to at least Australia or New Zealand last year. I had hoped that I could eat a larger variety of foods. I had hoped that I could return to a somewhat-normal-state-of-life. Did all that I had hoped for come to pass? I didn't get healed. I didn't go back to lecturing. I didn't even leave the country last year. Certain food experimentations nearly landed me in the ER. I'm still living with this condition. 

It has reached the point of 'If-I-get-better-GOOD!' and 'If-I-stay-this-way-GOOD!' as it means I did not become worse. Which is good news. But I do hope that I DO get better as time goes by. But I won't let the hoping consume me to the point that I lose myself. That I think of nothing but hoping to get better that I let my life whizz pass me without even me realising. That I keep on hoping until hope becomes a burden. Or hope becomes death and kills me. 

I haven't crossed many crossroads that I've come to, but I hope to. It may take me years, but I'm ok with that. 

I haven't been able to live life like I had hoped to, but I've come to accept the terms and conditions in which I have to live my life by.

My health is not perfect and it is a battle everyday but I hope to see better days.

I still haven't found God even though I've been searching for him. But I am still hoping that I do before I die.

Hope gives me purpose but it doesn't dictate or consumes me. 

And that, I think is what my friend was trying to say.

'In reality, hope is the worst of all evils, because it prolongs man's torments.'

- Friedrich Nietzsche, Human, All Too Human, 1878

'If you knew that hope and despair were paths to the same destination, which would you choose?'

- Robert Brault, www.robertbrault.com

What is hope to you? Do you hope?