Hopelessness

Hope is the thing with feathers – mixed media art journal page

If you saw me today and asked me how I was feeling, I would say with a smile,   “Hopeless. I feel hopeless.” And then I would tell you that I am so thankful to have learned the power of hopelessness.

You might walk away confused and certain that my last marble finally rolled away. But if you stayed and asked me what I meant, then I would share with you the book that my amazing, under-appreciated (by me) husband gifted to me because he knew it was just what I needed. Apparently, he knows me better than I know myself.

So what’s this incredible, life-changing book that is taking away all of my hopes? And why in the world would I continue to read, and enjoy a book that leaves me feeling hopeless? I thought you’d never ask.

In the midst of a personal crisis of mine, in walks Pema Chodron, an American Buddhist nun, who just happened to have penned the words that my soul needed to hear. Those of you who know me, know that I don’t read without a pen in hand. I write in my books and I encourage you to do the same. I underline, write notes in the margin, draw smiley faces and arrows – nothing is off limits. To me, a book, especially one that is meant to teach us, needs to be made personal. My notes make my books my own. And this book is heavily lined.

Before I divulge the name of the book I want to explain something. I’ve read a lot of books in my life. More specifically, I’ve read a lot of self-help, spiritual books. My shelves are lined with plenty of fiction, but are tempered with an equal amount of books promising answers. And I’m always looking for answers.

This book is different. Many of the other books that I’ve read have given me hope, promised me peace and happiness in x amount of steps. This book does not. In fact, this book encourages me to give up. Yep, you heard me right. Let go of hope. This is hard for me because I have always believed that hope is what keeps me going.

When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times. The book that is challenging my way of thinking. The book that tells me that when I “hold onto hope” it “robs (me) of the present moment”.

I am reminded of one of my favorite poems by one of my favorite poets, Emily Dickinson.

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul

And sings the tune without the words

And never stops at all.

Now as I think about the words Chodron writes, I reconsider Dickinson’s poem. If “hope is the thing with feathers” then that suggests that it is fleeting – here one moment, gone the next. In other words there is nothing permanent about it. Life is nothing but impermanence (another topic in Chodron’s book), and rather than waste time ,seeking that ray of hope to hold onto, knowing it will soon be gone, Chodron suggests instead that there is nothing better. There is nothing that is more. There is only now and that is enough.

Where there is hope fear will always exist. Chodron explains, “Hope and fear come from feeling that we lack something; they come from a sense of poverty. We can’t simply relax with ourselves.” We are all living in a state of constant fear. What ifs. In order to alleviate that not knowing, that impermanent state that is our life, we string ourselves along on hope.

When Jake was diagnosed with Tourette Sydrome at the age of 6, then later with OCD at the age of 8, fear consumed me. What if he was made fun of? What if he never made friends? What if he never found someone who could love him for who he is? I lost sleep. I cried. I screamed. I fought every inner demon I could conjure up. Meanwhile, Jake was in front of me. He was playing, laughing, crying. He was living. I was not.

Nick came along and I hoped for him. I hoped he would be “normal”. I hoped I could love him enough. I hoped he would understand Jake. I hoped he wouldn’t feel second. I hoped, I hoped, I hoped.

But you know what, Nick didn’t hope for much of anything. He didn’t lack anything. He didn’t need anything more than what he had. He experienced moment to moment. He didn’t live in the future or the past. Meanwhile, here I was living everywhere but in the now. All because of hope and fear. How much have I missed out on because of these daydreams?

Fast forward 9 years. Here I am now, as usual, filled with worry and fear over things that haven’t even happened. Things that may not even happen at all. Why? Because I expect. Because I hope. And as a result I fear. Chodron’s book is teaching me that fear is not a necessary part of life.

By accepting that life is impermanent, that life is full of insecurity and pain, as well as joy and beauty and that is ok, we can settle into the idea that “hopelessness is the basic ground”, the foundation upon which we should all stand because it is the only way. It is the only truth.

As the Zen master Shunryu Suzuki Roshi said, life is like getting into a boat that’s just about to sail out to sea and sink.

Consider what that means. When we enter this life, set sail, we have that whole journey out to sea to experience. But inevitably, we all will sink. No matter what we do, we will sink. Knowing this, does it not make sense to make the most of every moment of every day, even those moments that are not perfect? They are still our moments. Still our journey.

In Chodron’s book, When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times, she teaches us to go against habit and expectation, and move directly into the painful situations with “friendliness and curiosity. It is there in the midst of chaos, that we can discover the truth and love that are indestructible.”

As I learn to give up hope, and let myself seek the wisdom of the present moment, I hope know that I will gain a deeper insight into who I am and learn how to fully experience my natural state of being human – joy.