"There is one thing
which gives radiance to everything.
It is the idea of something
around the corner"
G.K. Chesterton
What would we do without hope? There are periods in our lives when hope seems be to tucked away in the dark junk drawer underneath the twist ties, thumb tacks and twine........ sitting amongst the half used packages of birthday candles, picture hooks and unsharpened pencils. If hope is hidden from sight and mind, we can wallow a whole day or week or lifetime away feeling very stuck. Unlike all the other items in a junk drawer that are only used at certain times for certain tasks, hope needs to be placed up on the counter by the windowsill in a brightly coloured open container right beside the essentials. We need hope everyday.
For many reasons, I had forgotten hope needs to be held often in order to thrive.
About a month ago as I was cleaning up the clutter in the kitchen, I forcefully shoved hope into a drawer and then promptly forgot where I had put it. It hadn't been as helpful as I had expected it to be. Hope had let me down and I banished it from sight. There it sat in the drawer beside the sparkle in my eyes and the bounce in my step that normally accompanies the ability to generate the creative idea just around the corner.
Radiance stuck behind a grey cloud. Out of sight, out of mind.
I was angry at hope..........where was it getting me anyways? It seemed deceitful and untrustworthy. I had kept using it along with optimism and all I got was stark reality thrown at me. I was completely stuck.
"Piss off hope. You're no good," I shouted.
However, I quickly realized that I missed it. I missed the impressionistic glow it gave off when I looked at a sunrise. I missed the way it allowed me to look around at my life with gratitude. I missed how hope generated a smiling sense of purpose. Every morning I would wake up thinking that some magical star was going to shine on a new path for me to take.........or at least glimmer over a patch of spring grass. Every morning I would make my way to the kitchen to put the kettle on and to look around for that container of hope. I'd find the kettle, but I couldn't find the hope container. It made me anxious and it even made me cry....... a lot.
Where did I put it, I'd be thinking as I robotically went through the morning motions. Every now and then, I'd catch the slackness and sparkle-free reflection of my face in the mirror. As the days tumbled by, the fear that I had lost hope for good made my heart race.......it gave me shivers of apprehension. Doubts doubled as I tried to maintain my footing. I was stuck, stuck, stuck.
One morning, I awoke early feeling a little more alert again. As I tiptoed down the hall to the kitchen trying not to disturb my family who had been worried that I had lost my hope, I realized that I needed to look at this dilemma from a different perspective. So, I altered my routine. Before I put on the kettle, I stood in a different spot in the kitchen and I looked around. My junk drawer caught my eye. Aha! That pesky hope was in there, overshadowed by my impudence and self-doubt.
In order for it not to slip away again, I quietly snuck over to the drawer and pulled it open gingerly. There it was. Waiting for me to embrace it again. I picked it up and placed it by the windowsill in it's yellow container where it could do it's magic. Then, I made myself a cup of tea, went into the dark living room with the big windows that look out on my river and calmly watched a sunrise that Monet may have painted.
It was radiantly hopeful.
10 comments:
I too have been looking for Hope, I have been re-tracing my steps, looking for the last spot I remember seeing it........I never thought to look in the "junk" drawer with all the other "forgottens".....Thanks...
I think that hope is that fiber, that thread that more often than not keeps us all going on in this life.
Beautiful writing.
Thank-you...........
Dear Awareness,
Thank you for visiting my blog this a.m.
Lovely post! Hope in a junk drawer...great metaphor!
I am not familiar with de Mello. I will have to read his works.
Thanks!
WW
You do write so very very well, my response to this is to quote what it seems a few people think the finest paragraph I have penned yet:
'I keep walking because I believe in the pilgrimage, in the things that come apart, that a God who is wise, strong and loving enough to create a world with such beauty and grace will be faithful in restoring it to what it was meant to be.'
I think we are talking about the same kind of hope, not of feudal promises but that mysterious hope that dovetails with faith - where we are guided by a hand we cannot hold
Hope goes not spring eternal, which is too bad. It must be worked on.
Nice post.
Scott
Vessel...thank you for stopping by. And you're very welcome. Oh! Did you feel that gentle breeze fleeting by? There is goes! :)
Hi Barbara...sometimes hope feels like it's a thin as a spider's web and then sometimes, one has an abundance of it...more like a big rope used to anchor a boat......no matter the size I agree, it is the tie that binds.
WW. Welcome! I hope you enjoy de Mello. I found him quite thought provoking. He was a scally-wag too, who marched to his own tune.
Hi Scott! You do have to work at garnering hope......and oftentimes we have to help others in our lives see that it may be tucked away and needs some sunlight......
Harbour..... Your friends are right. That is beautifully stated. Hope is tied in with faith......at least mine is......walking onward, hoping that restoration will happen....
There is so much I want to write (and talk) about....ideas and thoughts that have jumped into my head since reading your comment. But I will share one right now. It's the first thought that came to mind reading your words.....
Last year in late November, I was visiting a client in his home. He was in his late 40's, living with his elderly mom. He was applying for a disability pension, which for some reason he hadn't done so in the past because he would've been approved automatically. He was developmentally delayed somewhat and could never live on his own. He worked part-time (10 hrs a week) at the local rural church.
During the interview, I sat at the kitchen table with he and his mom. They were both quite animated and talkative......it was apparent right away that they loved each other's company AND relied on each other to be able to live together in their home. I loved meeting them.
Halfway through the interview (I ask a bunch of social related questions to assess how much "help" a person needs in their daily living) we all got off topic.......this happens regularly with me, but I wouldn't have it any other way......
We ended up talking about the book they were reading "A Purpose Driven Life." I had heard of it, and knew of others who were reading it, so I asked a bunch of questions etc. The conversation ebbed and flowed from there. The Mom, who has been a strong practising Christian all her life......first with the United church and then the Baptist church....cheerfully explained her deep beliefs and their tie to the church. After listening to her and asking many questions over the course of an hour, my impression was that she was such a strong believer in Christ. Then.............she stopped talking, looked right at me SMILING and stated.
"You know what I'm afraid of more than anything? What if all of this is a big joke and all my struggles aren't going to lead to what I have been promised?"
I burst out laughing with her. Here was this woman, late in her life still questioning, still wondering, still debating......and HOPING desperately that all would be restored....that her faith was not an illusion.
She was a gem.........so was her son.
I think that's just it, hope can so often be hidden, but that also means it can be found and uncovered, rediscovered.
I remember a seminar I was at several years ago discussing factors influencing suicide - a sense of hopelessness was right up there, identified above many other factors. I guess its true, that where theres hope theres life, and vice versa - sorry not wanting to be dismal, but it came to mind.
I'm smiling at the Mum in your story - it sounds like a conversation I've had a few times with a friend of mine - hoping our faith isn't an illusion
Hi Rainbow.....I can relate to the seminar story. No hope for a very very long time........leads to a sense of no reason to live. Often when I'm counselling, I find that I'm assessing a person's "hope meter" if you know what I mean..........is there hope in their voice, in their actions etc? It helps me gauge the situation.
I wear my hope on my sleeve, for if I were to put it away, I'd forget the particular drawer I tucked it into. I am always hopeful of everything, because if there were no hope I'm afraid I'd be locked away somewhere in a straight-jacket screaming my head off.
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