Friday, March 6, 2015

"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.

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