There was a time when I found it too dangerous to hope. I simply couldn’t do it. And if, for some reason I found myself hoping for anything I would remind myself that it would only lead to disappointment and more pain. I stopped planning any further than the few hours ahead of me as anything further seemed inconceivably far away and full of potential doubt. It was a dangerous way of living but I still find myself drawn to it sometimes. If you don’t hope for anything you can’t be disappointed. If you don’t hope that something will be as good as you imagine then you can only be impressed when you finally experience it. A genius solution for someone with high expectations right?
If you hope then you are believing in possibility. You could even will it into existence with a hopeful mindset (and a bit of effort). It was one of the biggest changes I made when making the decision to travel. I was planning months in advance, hoping that everything would work out ok and everything would be worth this massive effort.
Travel led me to hope. It led me to believe that there was a possibility beyond the fear, pain and doubt and all I had to do was dare to hope again to reach it.
Six months into travel and the hope is still there. Hoping to find new experiences, new places, new wildlife, new people and new opportunities. The latter is probably the most exciting and requires more of the dreaded planning. But whenever the familiar daemons knock on my soul I can remind myself how far I’ve come from the days when hope was impossible and look ahead to what I can hope to experience next.
Hope is my new best friend and travel was the one to re-introduce us.
I may have a long way still to go but I hope to never loose hope again.
One can only hope.