#227 – What's wrong with clinging to hope?

Hope and trust: self-protection on steroids

Since I mentioned Pema Chödrön's "anti-hope" teachings ("When we give up hope, that is the beginning of the beginning," in When Things Fall Apart), a few weeks back, I've been seeing more and more how hope is a cage that keeps us closed.

As a writer and linguist, my first contact with the world and ideas is always through words. So, when I wanted to follow this teaching and stop hoping, I was caught up on what to say instead of "I hope" or "hopefully."

I realized that when we hope, as Pema Chödrön puts it, we're declaring that "there's somewhere better to be" – a better life to be had. Which is precisely what keeps us from turning our current circumstance into a growth opportunity.

When my son spent the first of the 128 night he's spent in jail so far, I was mad with hope.

Hope that he wouldn't get hurt. Hope that he'd be released soon. Hope that no one would learn what had happened to our family. Hope that my clients wouldn't see me on the news or YouTube, crying in court, under oath.

Clinging to this hope was the kindling of great suffering. If that which I hoped for didn't come to pass, I didn't know how I could recover.

It was also a block to our growth – mine and my son's. Because we hoped that things would change, we weren't allowing the event to change us – we hoped to get out of it unscathed. We were resisting it.

Closed. Closed to it and to the teachings it brought. Closed to our own evolution.

Then I found my word: open. Instead of hoping, I can remain open.

Open to life. Open to learning, growing, changing. Open to whatever life brings us.

Open to being amazed by what we didn't know we needed.

What will you open yourself to?

Love,

Carolina