The life of Hope

'The life of hope is hope in life itself' 

           -  John D Caputo

Hope is this mysterious otherness that magically guides us down the pathway of life like a whimsical muse who embraces every moment with excitable expectation. Its essence is a collision of futurity and antiquity meeting to provide me with my very real present, my conscious now, the remarkable effect of the perpetual contemporaneity of my known and unknown existence.

This heightened human consciousness invites me into a new awareness of my surroundings, a sensory interaction that enlivens my connection with all of life, this fully alive realization that helps me to notice and engage more intentionally with the rich textures of all animated matter.

Hope lives and breathes in me, defining my makeup, a mysterious collaboration with every living particle. This synchronistic harmony of sub-atomic proportions rhythms my life and demands my active participation with all that has gone before and all that will come after me.

My breath reminds me of my dependence on mother nature, the trees and plankton like primordial guardians feeding me with oxygen that animates my life. Every breath I take is a gentle reminder of my fragile reliance on outside help to navigate the pathway of hope, in a moment by moment unfolding of time.

‘So do not worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will take care of itself. Each day will take care of itself'

Hope like a sentinel watches over the challenges of each new day, helping us to manage our anxious thoughts, those over active presumptions that seek to dictate the fearful outcomes of our false imaginings. Her spiritual directorship assists us to process the tides of our daily worry. 'Breathe in, breathe out' she says, 'find rest and peace in the midst of your concerns.' 

Hope is a security blanket that comforts us with the reassurance of allied support from a future time and space.

'Que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be, the future's not ours to see...'

Hope refines trust in us, she is the divine ‘que sera sera’ that holds us in the grip of providence with steely determination. What ever will be will be is the hope that we rely on, the fateful predetermination that reminds us that we are not in control of the outcomes. The echo of this ancient rhyme has guided previous generations with a resolute commitment to human destiny.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but longing fulfilled..

Sometimes it feels like our life has been momentarily postponed, put on hold, and the juices of hope squeezed from our hearts, like a dried up piece of fruit surrounded by flies that gather to feast on its staleness and stench. With a deathly smell in the air we feel like life is trapped in a terminal hopelessness that is engulfing our consciousness, and then to our rescue comes hopes best friend, LONGING. The yearnings of life that are more than our current experience, a cosmic collective of collaborative participants,  rising up like angelic messengers who have come to resuscitate our hope. 

Longing is the angel of hope that carries us through dark times. When hope seems gone we need to sit back and catch our breathe, take a moment and lean back into the arms of life’s ubiquitous angelic presence. 

Hope is for you more than you realise. The future is not ours to see, that is hopes job so let her expose it to you one day at a time.