HOPE

juxtaposed

Henny
on pause

did
not
like
bow

around her neck

presence—yes!
present—no!

she pawed at it
then laid down

to think?
to plot?
to strategize?

perhaps sullen look
was play for empathy

of course
it worked

I slipped red ribbon
over her head

she was free

---

I’ve been served the concept of hope from two different angles this week.

First, in E.B. White’s letter to Mr. Nadeau,

Hope is the thing that is left to us, in a bad time. I shall get up Sunday morning and wind the clock, as a contribution to order and steadfastness.

But as a people we probably harbor seeds of goodness that have lain for a long time waiting to sprout when the conditions are right. Man’s curiosity, his relentlessness, his inventiveness, his ingenuity have led him into deep trouble. We can only hope that these same traits will enable him to claw his way out.

And while White’s words “as a contribution to order and steadfastness” touch on personal responsibility, I’m also left with a sense that somebody else will do what needs doing.

---

Second, in the mini-series Band of Brothers there is a scene in which Private Blythe talks about his fear.

Officer Speirs tells the soldier, “We’re all scared. You hid in that ditch because you think there’s still hope. The only hope you have is to accept that you’re already dead. And as soon as you accept that, the sooner you’ll be able to function as a soldier is supposed to function.”

Nobody was coming to save Howard Blythe…

---

But wait! There’s more…

Third, this morning I read Amplify Possibility by Seth Godin in which he shares:

And so the social networks created a game, a game in which you ‘win’ by being notorious, outrageous or, as they coined the phrase, “authentic.” The whole world is watching, if you’re willing to put on a show.

That’s not how the world actually works. The successful people in your community or your industry (please substitute ‘happy’ for successful in that sentence) don’t act the way the influencers on Twitter, YouTube or Facebook do. That’s all invented, amplified stagecraft, it’s not the actual human condition.

Many of us have an overwhelming need to rubberneck, to slow down when we pass a crash on the highway. This is odd, as most people don’t go out of their way to visit the morgue, just for kicks. And yet…

I hope we’d agree that if people started staging car crashes on the side of the road to get attention, we’d be outraged.

Do I have hope that the social networks are going to suddenly see the light and change their ways? What role can I play?

Well, for starters—no rubbernecking.

Instead…I give my attention to thoughtful writers like Jay Armstrong who this week shared When Christmas Isn’t Cool Anymore.

Between us, I often wonder why I spend so much time agonizing over words that don’t have monetary value. My writing work defies American practicality, the time is money maxim, that’s chiseled in our culture. A grown man not getting paid to use his imagination sounds silly. Child’s play. Uncool. And then Dylan talks about Santa Claus again. His eyes widen again, his voice jumps again, and his imagination provokes a giddy hopefulness in me again. And I’m reminded this blog is my chance to use my imagination, to nipple at hope, one post at a time.

Jay’s
blog
is
hope
and
action

an
opportunity
for
us
to
amplify
possibility

hope
with
personal responsibility

has
potential
to
change
the
world