Hope

David Grey once sang, “If you have no hope, there isn’t any”, and it’s a sentiment I can so easily relate to. A victim of rape myself at 14, like many of those who read these words, I know far too well, the nightmare landscapes that become our lives – that awful emotional shock wave, that drives us further, and further away from our true path, and off into escape. A bitter distorted world of narrowed opportunities and even narrower perspectives. Our lives bound tightly by elaborate coping mechanisms, and endless self-abuse.

While I have never wanted to kill myself, I have sunk so low that I really didn’t care wether I lived or died. The perspective from down there, soaked in my own mess is one I will never forget - depressed into a near catatonic state, I spent almost three days curled up in the corner of my sad and lonely bedroom - and for the first time in my life, I lost hope completely.

This is the nature of our emotional wounding. For years, we perform extraordinary feats of endurance against the rage and pain of our traumas. We stumble on, often undetected by those close to us. But, these wounds will always find their way to the surface seeking attention. The impact of all that raw pain and hurt manifesting beyond our internal world can be so shocking it often undermines our hope and sense of endurance. It can be hard work just coping.

Often during sharing, my fellow travellers talk of enduring unbearable pain, or shame, or guilt. I hear this lots and I’m prompted to ask, “How strong is the woman who bears the unbearable pain?” We often say, “I can’t cope” and do anyway, and then beat ourselves up for only being able to carry extraordinary loads.

My Life today however is quite a different story. Seven years clean and sober from alcohol and well into recovery. While I know the flavour of that deep despair that hopelessness brings, I write these words in “hope” of convincing those now hopeless, that the exact opposite is true.

In fact, there is more hope in the world than any of us could ever possibly need, and yet sometimes just a teaspoons worth at the right time can have the most profound effect.

If you’ve lost hope, then that’s all you’ve done – you’ve just lost it, perhaps you misplaced it. Perhaps you left it under that pile of washing that’s been growling at you in the corner there.

Now I know from experience, being hopeless leaves you tired and immobile – you don’t feel like getting up and wading through the detritus of your life to go peering in all the dark corners for that illusive tiny glow. Don’t sweat it I say! That’s the beauty of hope, just ring a friend, and ask for a cup to tide you over till tomorrow. If you can’t find a friend, and they can be a bit elusive at those critical times, then ring the hope stores, those wonderful organisations like Lifeline and The Emotional Fitness Foundation, those guys have just got the market cornered on endless supplies of the damn stuff.

The wonderful thing about hope is this; even the smallest amount in your pocket gives you the courage to keep pushing through, (so check the fluff in your trouser pockets, I often find crumbs of hope in there – and of course the back of the couch).

With only a little hope in your life, you can then step out and look for more. These days, I find hope in all the oddest of places, my belly button for instance, (At 45 if you can still see your belly button when you look down then there’s still hope). You find it every morning with rising of the sun. Oddest of all, I find hope in those very people who most often describe themselves as hopeless. Their words resonate, their strength is apparent despite their inability to see it; their honest dignity in sharing their stories with me is a most elemental beauty. While any single heart can speak its pain, there is still yet hope.

In particular I love to take hope from words and music. I defy anyone not to feel hopeful after listening to Van Morrison sing “And the healing has begun” cranked up to eleventy on the louder knob.

A wonderfully crazy and impossibly energetic Art Critic Nun called Sister Wendy once offered three maxims to live by that never fail to give me hope.

• You can never be utterly destroyed.
• Children are people too.
• Do good, by stealth.

Sometimes of course, a low hope diet can leave a body cynical and sceptical, so for those of you who need evidence of hope before you can believe, spend a day in the delivery room of any women’s hospital. Maybe you prefer something with a little more intellect and Vulcan logic to it. Cool, find yourself the person with saddest story of collapse and injustice and perform one act of kindness for them. In doing so, you become your own truth; for if something good can happen to someone so low and beaten, why can it not happen for you? Hope lives eternal with every single breath you take.

As I write this article, I can glance over to my greatest Icon of hope - My son, who gave me a reason to live when I could find none for myself. He is now at the age I was when my life turned a different path. He looks so much like his dad but his report card is so much better than mine – so stay hopeful friends, hope is the fuel of change, the rest will come with time.

Article Written for Emotional Fitness Foundation Newsletter. C Davies  © 2007