On Hope and Insanity
Everyone has heard this quote a million times: “the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over again and expecting a different result.” The idea that change is what necessitates innovation and improvement, that repetition breeds stagnation, that continuing on the current path will only lead to failure. The death of Ruth Bader Ginsburg and some disappointing job news has me thinking a lot about the concept of Hope. Why do we hope? Why do we constantly yearn for more, search for greener pastures, crave Elysium? Hope underlies the foundation of our society, it is the force behind the American Dream, the idea that with hard work and determination, and a little bit of luck, fortunes will change. Hope keeps us going, slogging through the mud, climbing over obstacle after obstacle, trying to get a little bit further. The messaging immediately after the death of Justice Ginsburg was “tonight we mourn, tomorrow we fight”. Instantly, money flowed into Democratic coffers, even in the face of what is almost assuredly a new right-wing Supreme Court Justice. One calamity after another and hope still remains.
Looking at this year, at the magnitude of the societal shift, it is so easy to lose hope. “This is the new normal.” “You can’t change Western culture.” “It’s not worth fighting for.” Even in my own life, months and months of following the guidebook, networking, applying, and developing skills have left me in the same place. I’m doing the same thing over again and expecting different results. This year has felt, at least to me, like an assault on all sides. Major macro-level societal issues with few solutions, coupled with micro-level struggles have left me overwhelmed and unsure of where to turn. When everything is exhausting, yet you can’t look away, it’s tempting to retreat and give up. But hope is a hard thing to let go of, its siren song too powerful to resist, and so you continue to hope and continue to go on because it’s all you can do.
In times like these, I try to ground myself, to find small moments of joy in otherwise bland days. Whether it’s the perfect amount of milk in my tea, a friend calling just to chat, or a particularly good chapter in my current book, these moments remind me of what life is about. It’s good to hope, it’s good to yearn and strive for better days but one cannot become too dependent on that ideal. Because hope is never attainable, it’s always out of reach, just at the edge of your vision but not truly in the light. There is always more to hope for, it evolves constantly. I’m not entirely sure of the point I’m trying to convey here (and I guess that’s why nobody is paying me to write) but I think a common theme throughout my life has been that pull and push between hope and reality. Between placing faith in the future or accepting the present. I’m still on that journey, still in the middle of the tug-of-war and it’s in times like these that hope shines a little brighter. So here’s to the future, a better one.
