Hope Is A Good Thing?

“Remember, Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies. I will be hoping that this letter finds you, and finds you well.”

— Stephen King

““Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -”

— Emily Dickinson

“Everybody’s got a hold on hope, It’s the last thing that’s holding me”

— Guided By Voices

For three months I've hoped for a good thing. I have tried to keep that hope from overcoming me since things depended on other people's decisions. I applied my best efforts, showed the best of who I am, and did well, but Tuesday the funding was erased and my hopes evaporated. I had gotten my hopes up far enough that the fall knocked me pretty much out.

Austin Kleon wrote about Groundhog Day and a quote from Bill Murray's character Phil Connors:

In my favorite line from the movie, he asks his bowling buddy, “What would you do if you were stuck in one place and every day was exactly the same, and nothing that you did mattered?'

And his buddy, who’s a little drunk, looks at him and says, “That about sums it up for me.”

Yesterday, I was that drunk buddy. Such is the effect of disappointment on me. Today, I wonder am I using hope the wrong way. 

I've said that I write without the goals of getting rich or published, but maybe that's not honest. I don't believe I'll get rich by writing, but what is posting to this site but an attempt to be published? 

My therapist says it's natural to want to be heard, seen, and noticed. I asked, isn't it childish to need that? I'm caught between wanting to be known and thinking I should find worthiness from within. Needing approval seems a bad sign. She said, needing to be heard is different from wanting approval. I suppose so. 

This week's disappointment was the result of having built things up such that I was already on my way, out of unhappiness I've felt for years. I soared on that hope then crashed so hard when it disappeared that I still feel broken. 

To hell with the thing with feathers. 

Why am I even writing this? I'm trying to write without hope that it (or I) will be noticed. Austin Kleon seems to say, do the work, learn the craft, and keep going. Do it as if nothing matters. Keep writing and go through the days. But why do something without hope it will lead somewhere? How do I go forward without hope for some result? 

This week I wrote my 4,000th Morning Page. That's eight reams of paper. I've written three pages by hand every morning since July 5, 2014. After this week's disappointment, I wonder, so what? Why am I doing them? What do I hope for and expect from them? I don't have a good answer, but I'll do three pages tomorrow anyway.  

My wife suggests, instead of hoping for some specific or trying to figure out what it's all for, that I concentrate on doing one thing to make today good. What can you do to live well today? 

So I write without hoping it's enough to live well today. 

I feel I'm supposed to be more than I am. I keep hoping and when that hope fails, I lament how little I've accomplished. I'm sure I've written about being content and understanding the good life comes from acceptance, but what role do dreaming and hope play? They seem utterly not of the moment and lead to disastrous falls, but I can't imagine going ahead without them. 

About now, both my wife and therapist would suggest that it's not either hope or the moment but both at once. There are times that makes some sense. Right now, not so much. 

I want to say I'm letting go of hope, but this week of hopelessness has been too awful. I don't know what to hope for or how. Disappointment broke me. I'm not convinced hope is a good thing, that it never stops at all, or that it can hold me. As for one thing to make today good, I've written this. Has it worked? I guess I hope so. 

Tuning Out

Yesterday I turned on the television and flipped through the channels. Infomercials, cable company complaining that a distributor raised rates, old reruns. I landed on CNN where the anchor was talking about arming teachers and outlining both sides of the argument. I groaned. Then a senator talked about how he's pleased to be invited to the White House to discuss gun policy after the Florida high school slaughter. I turned the television off wondering why I even try television news. 

The problems are these: 

1. There aren't two sides to the idea of arming teachers
2. Acting pleased to discuss problems with this administration is a lie or the height of foolishness. 

Arming teachers isn't serious policy. It is meant to distract. Arming teachers won't keep anyone safer and almost guarantees more bullets will fly. Think just a moment and apply logic to this. The next steps are to arm teachers with automatic weapons and to armor kindergartners in bulletproof vests. It's frighteningly laughable but the likely end of arming teachers. 

Arming teachers is aimed and loaded to protect gun manufacturers and the right to bear any arm anywhere. The other intent is to distract from the fact that being awash in guns, our nation is awash in our own blood. 

As for that senator's pleasure, he's going to an unhinged White House. It is the house of Twitter and when was the last reasoned and enlightening discussion on Twitter? It is no place for debate and neither is this White House. Twitter is dominated by name-calling and bullying. Note the Twitter feed of the White House's chief occupant. It is a sewer pipe. 

Which leads to why I've turned off television and radio news: they report government by tweet as something reasonable. I used to listen to NPR all the time, but they insist on covering his every tweet and boast. I've gone to print media where I can bypass tweet-talk and false equivalencies. Those really bother me. 

Listen for a moment. The Earth is not flat. There is no debate. Flat-Earth arguments are unworthy of equal time because they've been proven false. There are no two sides to the shape of the Earth. Such notions do not deserve equal time. 

Arming teachers is about as reasonable as believing in a flat Earth. 

The CNN anchor went out of his way to seem fair and balanced about arming teachers rather than calling out propaganda for what it is. That's not news or good journalism.

The Senator who acted as though he will be dealing with a fair-minded and reasonable group in the White House isn't being honest. What he thinks he's doing, I don't know.  

None of this is good for our nation. Ignoring facts, giving time to distractions, and respecting ideas that do not stand up to rigorous examination is likely to end in the deaths of more school children. 

I would like to hope for better from us. 

Snow After Seventy

Wait, it was seventy degrees yesterday morning. I went for a run with friends and it was almost too warm. Then this afternoon, on the way to Wegmans, snow flurried thick enough I couldn't see beyond the 481 overpass. 

My guess is that most of Syracuse isn't thrilled with this. A day like yesterday gets us thinking spring has arrived despite the calendar and our better sense. I don't listen to weather reports in part because I don't want to hear how terrible a day it will be just because it's not like yesterday. 

Sudden shifts in weather give me hope. Yesterday it was seventy and skies were blue. Now it's below freezing and the world is white. That sudden change is a wonder of Central New York. The skies are grey and that can be tough, but there is something in a snow flurry or storm that delights me still. 

It has me thinking how lives can change like the weather. I've been in the same job for seventeen years and would love some new adventure. I had dinner last night with a former colleague and she looked ten years younger, as if retirement led her to find her true self. I felt happiness radiate off her just as sure as I feel the furnace pushing warm air through the vent at my feet. I was happy for her and wondering how I might sail on the winds of change. 

For years I believed I was trapped and would remain in my job because I had waited too long to make a change. Then the world turns from freezing to seventy and back again and I believe in the powers of change and my own power to make changes. 

I don't know tomorrow's weather or if I'll be in a new job soon, but I was happy in yesterday's warmth and I'm just as happy in this snow. Maybe some new adventure will come or I'll make one. It may snow or thaw. Being okay with all of it begins with enjoying how things are right this minute and expecting things to become only better. 

It was seventy degrees yesterday morning. It's below freezing this afternoon. Anything at all seems possible for tomorrow. That's just the way it ought to be. 

Cell Phone Anonymous

When I got my iPhone in 2008 it was life-changing. I couldn't believe all it could do and I often claimed I could run my life through it. That's just what I set out to do. 

Google Calendar, Drive, Gmail, Maps, Contacts, and every other Google thing became portably integrated into my life. I downloaded apps for to-do lists, project planning, push-ups and planks, running, diet, and whatever else. I used the hell out of iTunes then Google Play Music thinking a subscription was the key to fully enjoying music. I switched to Google Nexus phones and then the Pixel. I lived my life through them. 

But I kept feeling like I was doing it wrong. User error. My therapist waited while I struggled to put in our next appointment. I didn't know what I was doing each day until the phone dinged to tell me. Email overwhelmed me, so I checked it incessantly. I couldn't find my way around the city without the GPS. I was distracted and felt like a mess. What was wrong with me? It had to be my fault, right? 

I chewed through gigabytes of data monthly and more than a battery charge daily. I stopped reading books and writing, stayed in, used the phone when I was out, and lost some touch with family. I felt addicted, like I couldn't stop, and it was then that I started shifting gears.

I stopped streaming music over the data plan. I had given up music while running years ago after stopping a woman from running into 45 mph traffic and I stopped walking with it now. These turned out to be easy changes, though I hadn't expected them to be easy. 

Next, I switched to Google's Project Fi which bills only for data used. This got me looking for ways to cut data usage. My daughter said, "just turn off mobile data" and I went wide-eyed at the simple brilliance as I shut off mobile data. I've left it off. I still pick up the phone when waiting to pick her up from rehearsal, but there's no data, so I read a book. And I don't pay a cent for data.

I deleted most apps and use Twitter, Facebook, and The Washington Post in the browser. It's more difficult, so I use them less. I still use The New York Times app because it works so well, but I may end up dropping it too. I'll let my Post subscription go when it runs out next month. 

And then this week I began powering the phone off for an hour each day. Yesterday, I left it off for two playing at how many hours I can leave it off. 

Of course, you don't need to do any of this. You're not addicted to your phone and missing out on life because of it like I was. You don't use it while you drive or run out of battery each afternoon. You're not paying too much for data. It makes a good story though. I love stories of addiction and recovery, hoping the recovery takes hold. Maybe mine is one of those stories. 

Check back here every so often to see how things turn out.