On Hope
An adventure is a journey with enthusiasm intertwined. One doesn't embark on a journey, adventure, quest, escapade, or down any tantalizing road without at least one tool to help you reach your destination; sometimes it's a tool you didn't even know you packed.
My initially unwanted journey through the COVID-19 pandemic has slowly evolved into an indefinite adventure. I entered it thinking I hadn't prepared anything except maybe a freezer full of random foods and an arsenal of streaming platforms; however, I kept picking up items along the way and even discovering things in my backpack, hidden in that pocket I never open or squashed under the can of Italian green beans (a new variation of green beans I have taken affinity to because apparently no one considered them quarantine essential). While I have found journals, letters, technology, baking supplies, LEGOs, and a variety of other things to be of great use, perhaps my most invaluable acquisition has been an intangible one: hope.
Hope was tucked in the front pocket of my overalls when the journey began. Spring Break had merely been slightly extended, and my Maymester to England was still ago; the Coronavirus was merely another Swine flu scare and a bump in the road towards the things I was looking forward to. A feather in the wind, one might say. Then slowly, everything got canceled. No more school. No more spring show. No more birthday extravaganza. No more England. With every cancellation, I would say “I have nothing to look forward to anymore,” and then life dealt another blow to prove me wrong. Hope started to get smaller and smaller as each of these events slipped through my fingers, until at last I couldn't find her.
Mentally, I look back on that time and envision darkness. We always try to put things in the perspective of “But other people have it so much worse than me”; this is true and important to acknowledge in order to ground yourself and gain perspective, but it’s also difficult when your life’s scale is based on your own experiences. In a way, this is another variation of Teddy’s Roosevelt’s “Comparison is the thief of joy.” Acknowledging someone else’s hardships should inspire gratefulness and goodwill within you, but not diminish what you are feeling. You feel things for a reason, and you should let yourself acknowledge them so you can learn how to evolve into a greater version of yourself for difficulties that may lie ahead. Also, that more developed version of yourself is only going to be that much more equipped to help those that “have it worse” than you.
For about a week, I mourned my losses. The rug had been pulled out from under me, and I couldn’t find my footing. Then, as it seemed life had hit a stalemate, I realized I could either lose this time or use it. I allowed myself the time to grieve because as human beings we need that. Our sadness doesn’t necessarily mean there is something wrong with us; on the contrary, it means that something is so right because we are invested in our blessings so much that we are passionate about them, and our rainbow of feelings only bonds us with others because we all feel that. But there comes a time when you pick yourself off the floor and say, “There is something I can learn from this. Good is playing hide-and-seek, and I’m going to find her.” So then, I took my other tools and started to work. I may not have been able to see people physically, but I had technology to let me connect with them on a multitude of platforms. I also had a slew of letters, envelopes and writing utensils, to send people tangible words - something they could hold to even if we couldn’t hold each other (I am determined for snail mail to make a comeback). I had empty journals and a plethora of intense feelings, so I journaled. I had books that had been sitting on my shelf for a while, so I cracked them open again. I had a kitchen full of ingredients and baking supplies, thus @quarantinekariskitchen was born. Admittedly, I was scrounging around for everything I could make something out of. I was determined to reach my uncharted destination as a better person than I was at the start.
Then one day, I realized: Hope had not been lost. She'd been clinging to my back the whole time. I couldn't see her, but there she was, driving me forward, whispering encouragement and purpose in my ear. She'd been behind everything the whole time. Have you ever seen such loyalty? A companion I’d lost and didn’t even send the dogs for, yet she didn’t just never give up on me- she propelled me. Since finding her, I've been holding her out in front of me for the rest of the journey. I realized she has a kind of glow, and that luminance always guides my path, infiltrates any darkness, and assures I never lose sight of her.
There are times when my arms get tired; times when the horizon keeps getting farther; times when the star I thought I was following was actually an ever-moving Satellite. I’m imperfect; I’m human. Sadness still hits, and sometimes I put hope down to hide my face or wipe my eyes. I’m learning to be okay with this. While my brightest moments are when Hope is clear ahead of me, sometimes I have to re-center, give myself time, and then consciously place Hope ahead of me even if I don’t know where I’m going. Sometimes whispering in the smallest of voices “Hope, guide me,” is all she needs to give us strength. But she waits on us until we’re ready.
Are you picking up tools? Can you find your Hope? Are you in a grieving moment? Hey - it’s all okay. Whatever it is. You can make something out of this. If you don’t see your Hope right now, don’t fear. She ebbs and flows like a tide. If she were in all the time, would you really appreciate her presence?
Maybe you can see your faith in this huge metaphor - I see mine. I pray everyone is experiencing Hope in their journeys, whatever they may be. I would even argue that no one willingly goes into a journey without her, and if the journey is big enough, you're going to lose her along the way. When this happens, don't fear; it's a sign that your journey is one of the grand adventures to be written about and inspire others. Remember, Hope is never really gone; she's there, deep in your pocket, clinging to your back, under your hat, and maybe even just slightly flattened under your shoe. You can't kill her that easy. My dear friend Alli Howells said it best when she wrote,"[Hope] is stronger than pain, stronger than fear, so strong in fact, it is unbreakable." She can sneak up on you, but do her the honor of looking for her first. She makes the journey an adventure.
I used to have a Giving Key that had “Hope” inscribed on the front. I wore it around my neck in the years of my life when I needed it most. About a year ago, I passed it on to a friend I thought needed it more. While I could use its reminder now, I know Hope has engraved herself in my spirit.
All this to say, when you are ready to share your gifts, do it. Others need you. You don’t have to be whole or perfect - who knows if we can ever even reach that point. But when you’re ready, the world needs you. Don’t rush yourself. Just listen for a whisper; I think you’ll know when.
