What Does Hope Look Like?

Hope is something that needs to be examined in your own mind. It’s something that tugs at your heart; it tugs and pulls and folds it, it crinkles it a little — it feels like this to me. It wakes me up in the mornings and gets me up enticing me with a walk and some fruit juice even when the days are going to be unpleasant sometimes. Hope doesn’t look like the sun; I perceive the sun to be accompanied with a lot of noise, action, the hustling and bustling of cities come to life. Hope is calm; it’s quiet like the moon. It’s not bright; it’s dark without any life because it’s meant to be filled with a lot of your care. It could look like the coffee you drink. It would look like the sport you watch. It could look like the photos of different places you really want to go to; yes, it could look like National Geographic magazine. It could look like the toy aisle in a department store. Hope causes brooding. It starts every activity you do. Hope doesn’t always smile. It frowns a lot. It feels neutral quite a lot too. Hope is always there waiting to be found. It doesn’t emerge from anywhere; it’s always been around. It requires people to travel to it; staying put and focusing your mind on good isn’t enough; hope requires people to move and move and move; hope is felt when it’s felt all over the body, into the marrow, deep into the crevices of the brain. Traveling and discovering, doing something a little different every day is how hope can be found and felt. Hope isn’t necessarily in green spaces as they aren’t the only component in the world; again, it can be in jars of herbal teas or in a brick house.

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