Where There’s Life, There’s Hope
I have only recently learned the meaning of “Where There’s Life, There’s Hope.” As I get older certain lifelong dreams have appeared more and more likely to remain just that … dreams. This induced hopelessness. And then one day I suddenly realized that I still did retain hope. How could this be?
The first explanation I came up
with was that the psyche is constructed in such a way that it simply cannot
stop hoping for something it deeply desires, no matter what the unlikelihood of
fulfilment. I could imagine how this might have been selected for in evolution.
So “Where There’s Life, There’s Hope” simply means that hope is ineradicable.
But this is
only a descriptive assertion about psychology and not an uplifting bit of
information about one’s prospects. It does not mean what it might have seemed to
mean, which is that, objectively speaking, there really is hope. For even if,
in rational, realistic terms, there is no hope, one will continue to experience
hope.
One might
oppose the expression to “There’s still hope,” where there is some sense of realistic
reassurance being offered, if only on the basis of being aware that there is insufficient
information to assess the prospects one way or the other.
So to
breathe is to hope. But one’s rational mind may know better.
However, soon
after this realization I found myself possessed of a more positive way to cognize
the situation. I was able to obtain a more rational sustenance from the hope I
could not help but feel by ridding myself of any expectation that it would
be fulfilled. In this way my hope does not need to oppose my rational assessment
of slim to nonexistent prospects but can peacefully co-exist with it. So I
could be hopeful and skeptical at the same time without experiencing cognitive dissonance
and having to struggle against reason in order to remain hopeful.
And it just
might be the case that harboring hope in this manner could increase the odds of
fulfilling it. For the pressure will be off to force circumstances to cooperate,
to make reality bend to one’s will. And sometimes that is just what is needed for
reality, which is proud, to accede.