TRUST

I desire to understand people. I desire to know why people do what they do (why I do what I do). I desire to know the origin of people: why we were placed here in this allotted time in history, surrounded by certain people, carrying out individual plans, goals...
I desire to understand the meaning, the purpose, of my two feet upon earth. Where were they meant to take me? Will I make any sort of a difference?

I desire to understand all the facets of life that I can never understand, the ones that only God understands - and this is where trust plays in,..

To trust in the unknown, to surrender to the power of fate, and to be madly in love with the mystery of it all.

I am

in love

with the 

idea of

being free.

Now,

I must be. 

Have you seen the film Dead Poets Society?
This beautiful & inspiring film introduced me
to this following poem by Walt Whitman:


O Me! O Life!

Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,

Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,

Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)

Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,

Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,

Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,

The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

                                       Answer.

That you are here—that life exists and identity,

That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.


(And what will your verse be?)

you can gain all the knowledge

you desire,

but what good is knowledge 

of you do not apply?

and what good is applying

if you do not feel?

and what good is feeling

if you do not love? 

"Hope is independent of the apparatus of logic."
- Norman Cousins


Tell me - how is it logical for the human being to live with joy, with fervor, with whimsy, and to simultaneously know that we will one day be ripped from the only home we've ever known by death?

Is this not an incredibly somber and discouraging thought? What the hell sense does that make? What's the point? If, on an unforeseen day, we will all be gone, why work toward anything? Why ask the big questions if the end result is always the same? Why spend time loving and knowing others if we will be heartbroken when they're gone?

Insert hope.

Hope dispels logic. Hope tells logic, "no - you're the concept that doesn't make any sense, and if you did make sense, who would even care about making sense?" Hope is perplexing and wild. Hope is present in the morning sun, in the smile of the passerby, in taking a breath and knowing that your lungs are still providing your body with existence.

Hope resides in a realm separate from logic. Why? Logic attempts to explain, hope succeeds in disproving. Hope, time and time again, has guided the human out of desperate and tragic circumstances. Hope indeed disproves us - when we are so very convinced that we can not go on, hope is the gentle nudge, the faint reminder that there's still a lot of life yet to be known, and so much more to discover; and yes, we can go on because hope reminds us of our inertly curious will to exist, to be alive.

Hope can not be explained with words, only felt. Hope has no equation, nor fancy theories. Hope has no end, no beginning, and no limit.

Hope simply is
and always will be.