Hope Observed : April is the Month of Hope
To avoid speaking of hope from an anecdotal or experiential place is a fool’s errand.
After researching the different cultural implications and world views that involve hope, I realize that although hope has been debated throughout history in many cultures, it cannot be encompassed by a definition (Smith, D. L. 2007). Certainly, we can talk about the Greeks and their theories of hope as a human curse or blessing in Pandora’s box or speak to the spiritual aspects that are seen in world religions, from eastern cultures to western, from ancient to modern beliefs. Hope is seen as strength and also as a painful self-deceit. Looking at the different concepts and stirring away from personal experiences becomes an overwhelming task until one realization comes to focus in the firmament of thought. Hope is to be experienced.
Within the old proverbs where there’s life, there’s hope; is the thought that hope belongs inseparably with human existence (O’CoUms 1969) Over the past several years, attempts have been made in different disciplines to understand hope within the life of an individual. Hope has been associated with meaning and value in life (Crumbaug; Niahohc 1964, Frankl 1959, Travelbee 1971), and has been considered to be an essential component in human development.
Recently I observed a celebration that caused me to reflect on the transcendent value of hope. After several failed attempts to find some healing from the devastating disease of addiction, a young man was graduating from a recovery program. As expected, all present had encouragement and well wishes for the future of this young man. But amongst them sat an older man. He was composed, calm and respectable. His salt and pepper hair suggested years of learning, his carefully chosen outfit was a testament of his attention to detail. This man’s unwavering presentation remained untouched until the young graduate began to speak. His picaresque personality and engaging smile captured the attention of the room but no one more than the older gentleman. People laughed at his musings. My focus remained on the older man; his kind eyes and subtle gaze was flooded with tears that ran down his distinguished, leathery face, intently listening to the young speaker. It was the older man’s turn to address his son. He put on a brave face, and with a solemn, quiet voice rasped “It’s really nice to see you again, kid”. The two men locked eyes, one set young and bright and the other a fading blue. Both men emerged through their tears. Later I would learn that the father had supported his son through endless treatment episodes, had taken him to the hospital after several overdoses, and had refused to lose his child. On this day he found his hope again in his son’s words. At that moment, you could experience it, feel it and see it… It was hope realized, hope observed.
Hope is not something that can be captured through words but rather experienced in that space between reality and wishes. It is the broken smile of an older man who was ecstatic to see his child back, being the best version of himself. It was that young man’s laughter as he looked towards tomorrow without fear. Hope is an irrational and inexplicable strength that drives us to reject the logical and choose to engage in a seemingly losing battle and by that act of rebellion redefine the possible. “Whatever a man does, he does in hope.” (Denton 1964, 31) To those suffering with mental illness, Hope and Salvation seem like unreachable twin towers. We do this out of fear, to convince ourselves of the enormous difference between ourselves and others. For the well, impose impossible burdens of wellness upon themselves by widening this gap. It is ourselves we thus condemn to hopelessness. The hopeless person is an isolated one, cut off from the essential factor of human contact and fixated in an unreal past or future.
Written by: Nithya N, Daniel P, and the Clinical Team at Ruby’s Place, April 2024
