Pessimistic on the surface, Optimist at the core
I was once asked if I was pessimistic or optimistic. My answer was, "I'm pessimistic on the surface but I'm optimistic at the core. In other words; I think that things suck now, but I have hope that things will get better." Yesterday, while I was sitting in my pool of numbness, I thought of that. Then it hit me, like a dodgeball in gym class, hope is truly the one human emotion/experience that is universally shared. It doesn't matter what religion you prescribe to because at the foundation and at the heart of all of them resides hope.
America was built on hope and survives solely on it. I think the main obstacle between the status quo and the socialist revolution is hope. It doesn't matter that the people below the poverty line will soon reach a majority percentage which might seem like the seeds of revolt might start growing because no matter how poor people are in this country they still have hope in their social mobility. People would rather have the opportunity, despite the dismal size of it in some cases, to be social mobile than to have the guarantee of being equal.
The problem seems to be that sometimes we rely too much on hope. I hope all the time, I can't help but do it. However, hope is inactive. Change doesn't spring from hope. Hope gets us through the day to day in order to facilitate an environment in which change can occur but it doesn't actually cause change. I've always kind of made hope into a wish. If I just hope long enough or I just wish hard enough then my world would change; but I am still here, stuck in a world of my own imagination.
These thoughts all poured out while watching an episode of the West Wing. It got me to thinking about Capra and what it is that his films embody: hope. They are filled with unabashful hope that the world can be a better place. They feed on the very fabric of hope that resides in people's heart. His world's perfection isn't perfect at all. The world isn't perfect, people aren't perfect, and life isn't perfect. But with the hope that they have the possibility to be we strive for excellence. Sometimes we fail miserably and sometimes we have minor victories.
I wonder what it is like to have lost all hope. For that final bit of light to go off when you are trapped in that dark place. It must be the ultimate death within life. Because I know that no matter how deep I plunge into that unknown abyss, the light of hope will always guide me back. It must be so quiet at the bottom in all the darkness. To finally feel what it is like to truly be all alone. It makes me quite sad to even think about it. Every time I see a homeless person I wonder what happened in that moment. What was the final straw that made them give up so entirely.
One time a friend of mine told me a story of how he was sleeping on the streets for a short time. He had a job at the time at a major coffee company, but he couldn't pay his rent. He had many friends, one of who he stayed with for a short time. But slowly he was forced to live on the street. His story brought me to tears. It wasn't so much the fact that he had to live on the street but more about the fact that he had friends that would allow him to live on the street. I wish I had known him then. I would have taken him in. I guess that has always been something that I can't understand about humanity; how can people not help somebody when it is within their means to help them? I know that people feel that it is this slippery slope that will lead to them being a pushover. But who cares? What is so bad about being a pushover? We all wonder why feel so alone but we never reach out a hand to help people. True interaction and relationships are about giving even more than you receive, doing the things that suck, being there for people in times of need. Like it is that hard to let someone sleep on an aeromattress in your living room. Yes, it might be inconvenient for you, but it makes a life altering difference to the person sleeping on it.
Another friend of mine had a horrible thing happen in her family. Her life had always been picture perfect. She lived in the cute apartment, she had the tight group of friend who lived walking distance away, and she had a good paying job. But once the incident happened only two of those things remained true. Friends, who she considered to be best of, didn't even call her to say anything. They just ignored her. She hit her lowest point in the world and her friends weren't their to help her through it. I didn't know what to say to her, but I was there. I could be there, if nothing else I could be there. People always use the excuse, "I didn't know what to say." You don't have to say anything then.
There are many things that I can understand about the human condition, but lack of compassion is one that I will never be able to digest. It is not hard, it is so easy. Why do we run from it and hide from it? We are all connected and intertwined in so many ways that we will never understand. We share so much of each other's lives whether it is active or not. United by humanity and divided by the same force.
This whole ramble was suppose to be about hope, but somehow spinned into the opposite. See what I mean about the core and the surface. I recognize that things aren't perfect, but God help if I don't believe that they can be. I can't control my undying belief that we as humans can do better, act better, and be better. We have so much untapped possibility. I envision a future where everything unleashes into the universe. So, basically I think that things suck now, but I have hope that things will get better.
America was built on hope and survives solely on it. I think the main obstacle between the status quo and the socialist revolution is hope. It doesn't matter that the people below the poverty line will soon reach a majority percentage which might seem like the seeds of revolt might start growing because no matter how poor people are in this country they still have hope in their social mobility. People would rather have the opportunity, despite the dismal size of it in some cases, to be social mobile than to have the guarantee of being equal.
The problem seems to be that sometimes we rely too much on hope. I hope all the time, I can't help but do it. However, hope is inactive. Change doesn't spring from hope. Hope gets us through the day to day in order to facilitate an environment in which change can occur but it doesn't actually cause change. I've always kind of made hope into a wish. If I just hope long enough or I just wish hard enough then my world would change; but I am still here, stuck in a world of my own imagination.
These thoughts all poured out while watching an episode of the West Wing. It got me to thinking about Capra and what it is that his films embody: hope. They are filled with unabashful hope that the world can be a better place. They feed on the very fabric of hope that resides in people's heart. His world's perfection isn't perfect at all. The world isn't perfect, people aren't perfect, and life isn't perfect. But with the hope that they have the possibility to be we strive for excellence. Sometimes we fail miserably and sometimes we have minor victories.
I wonder what it is like to have lost all hope. For that final bit of light to go off when you are trapped in that dark place. It must be the ultimate death within life. Because I know that no matter how deep I plunge into that unknown abyss, the light of hope will always guide me back. It must be so quiet at the bottom in all the darkness. To finally feel what it is like to truly be all alone. It makes me quite sad to even think about it. Every time I see a homeless person I wonder what happened in that moment. What was the final straw that made them give up so entirely.
One time a friend of mine told me a story of how he was sleeping on the streets for a short time. He had a job at the time at a major coffee company, but he couldn't pay his rent. He had many friends, one of who he stayed with for a short time. But slowly he was forced to live on the street. His story brought me to tears. It wasn't so much the fact that he had to live on the street but more about the fact that he had friends that would allow him to live on the street. I wish I had known him then. I would have taken him in. I guess that has always been something that I can't understand about humanity; how can people not help somebody when it is within their means to help them? I know that people feel that it is this slippery slope that will lead to them being a pushover. But who cares? What is so bad about being a pushover? We all wonder why feel so alone but we never reach out a hand to help people. True interaction and relationships are about giving even more than you receive, doing the things that suck, being there for people in times of need. Like it is that hard to let someone sleep on an aeromattress in your living room. Yes, it might be inconvenient for you, but it makes a life altering difference to the person sleeping on it.
Another friend of mine had a horrible thing happen in her family. Her life had always been picture perfect. She lived in the cute apartment, she had the tight group of friend who lived walking distance away, and she had a good paying job. But once the incident happened only two of those things remained true. Friends, who she considered to be best of, didn't even call her to say anything. They just ignored her. She hit her lowest point in the world and her friends weren't their to help her through it. I didn't know what to say to her, but I was there. I could be there, if nothing else I could be there. People always use the excuse, "I didn't know what to say." You don't have to say anything then.
There are many things that I can understand about the human condition, but lack of compassion is one that I will never be able to digest. It is not hard, it is so easy. Why do we run from it and hide from it? We are all connected and intertwined in so many ways that we will never understand. We share so much of each other's lives whether it is active or not. United by humanity and divided by the same force.
This whole ramble was suppose to be about hope, but somehow spinned into the opposite. See what I mean about the core and the surface. I recognize that things aren't perfect, but God help if I don't believe that they can be. I can't control my undying belief that we as humans can do better, act better, and be better. We have so much untapped possibility. I envision a future where everything unleashes into the universe. So, basically I think that things suck now, but I have hope that things will get better.
posted by Whit at 6:36 AM
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