"A Prisoner of Hope"

I have a confession: I am not optimistic about the world. I try not to be a scorekeeper, but I catch my frustration level rising when I see slivers of cruelty or pettiness, a frustrated driver flipping the bird at someone who drives like me (badly) or the traveler berating the TSA agent who simply asked that person to adhere to the rules posted everywhere. The fact that some have so much while others are hungry, that more than 20 species went extinct this year, that I will never be tall enough to reach the top shelf. All of this bothers me. It makes me pessimistic. 

What saves me from becoming the absolute worst version of myself is that despite my failure to be optimistic, I remain, as Cornel West puts it, a “prisoner of hope.” I see evidence that the world is going to hell in a handbasket. Fires, floods, plagues — things that were once hyperbole we joked about in casual conversation and now live with on a daily basis. Despite all of this, I have my coffee, pat the dogs, and go to work.

I will say please and thank you, over and over. I will say yes to young people who ask for my help. I will pick up the phone when my kids call, but I will also pick up for other peoples’ kids. Maybe especially them. I will conjure up Wendell Berry’s advice and stubbornly “be joyful, though I’ve considered all the facts.” I will persist in living my life with this slant because I don’t know if hope puts bars on the cage or hands me the key to the lock. It doesn’t matter, really, because action, no matter how small, feels like a better way to live. This is my private rebellion. 

Being hopeful is a mindfulness practice, requiring us to remember and choose, notice and act, over and over and over again. The rewards are obvious in both art and science. On one hand, I just notice that my quality of life is better, my attitude is better, if I channel my hope through some intentional action. On the other hand a bunch of research reminds us that the constituents of well-being – things such as a positive outlook, generosity, awe, awareness, clarity – are strengthened when we are actively mindful, persistently taking steps to pay attention to what is happening around us and then acting on our observations. 

Our Daily Acts for the next month will provide practices, encouragement, and ideas for buffing up the muscle of hope. Consider this an invitation to join the rebellion.

With gratitude and joy,

Sara