Fall has arrived here in the Catskill Mountains!

The leaves are beginning to show their full expression of color, the mornings have grown cooler, and the squirrels are busy bouncing and munching.

These precious moments in nature have been giving me a little respite from the truth of the present moment, which can feel exhausting, confusing, and painful at times.

As the world seems to grow darker with bad news, I find myself wondering about hope.

I consider myself an optimistic being, but it feels hard to feel hopeful amidst this sh*tstorm we’re all experiencing.

At the same time, it feels equally as challenging to feel hopeless.

What does hope actually mean?

In some ways, hope seems to indicate a type of grasping – a wish for something that may not even exist.

My husband says this is what you call “hopium.”

Hope is always tied to some type of expectation or outcome.

In the Buddhist view, wants, desires, and expectations are considered attachments, and attachments cause suffering.

So my question is, can we hold hope without any attachment to the outcome?

I sat with this for quite a while, pouring through spiritual texts, looking for an answer.

Both the Bhagavad Gita and the Upanishads essentially say we should do the work, but not for the sake of receiving the fruits of our labor.

Vaclav Havel, a Czech statesman, writer, and former dissident, said…

“Hope is a dimension of the soul, an orientation of the heart. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, no matter what the outcome.”

I could feel my body struggling with this idea. Tension was building, and I could sense a pit in my stomach that seemed to be pulling me into fear.

How could I possibly be hopeful and not care about the result?

In that moment, I was able to “touch” the fear, and I remembered something a teacher shared on retreat, years ago.

She said…

“Relaxation grows when we are able to let go of hope and fear. Let go of the idea of hoping for something to change, and the fear that it won’t.”

BOOM!

My body and mind immediately relaxed. I realized how intricately connected hope and fear are – one could not exist without the other.

Spaciousness and liberation filled my body.

I felt free from my attachment to whatever the outcome(s) will be, yet connected with my wishes. I was able to hold the duality of this moment in a place of neutrality.

Is it possible to concentrate less on the result, and consciously rest in the space between hope and fear?

I would love to hear your experience with this in the comments below.

Let’s support each other through this chaos. 🙂

Much love,
Michele