Pandora’s Jar

Recently, I have had a lot on my plate, perhaps more than I can handle, maybe even more than is sensible to have. There are times when I simply wish to recede into a small, dark corner of the world and wait for the time to pass until I can resurface in a simpler place, with less worries gnawing at the edges of my sanity. Perseverance and the promise of the light at the end of the night seem to be companions of a past which has long since passed.

Hope, like many other things of immeasurable value, can be extremely difficult to locate, what with the constant aura of negativity around us. Therefore, I believe, that it is our duty to congratulate and hold on to people who have found hope, for they are our escape route from the murky waters of depression.

Today is a day of immense importance. Today marks the birth anniversary of a person who is perhaps the living image of hope. If hope were to come out and assume a humanoid form, I am convinced it would be that of the person of whom I speak. This person isn’t a wise, learned old scholar who has spent days wandering the narrow, dark, dismal corridors of an exasperated mind. No, this person is a kind-hearted, intelligent soul who believes that eventually we will overcome, for there is nothing which we, when we unite as one, cannot surpass.

These views have always seemed, to me as I do consider myself quite the pessimist, to be optimistic to the point of being ridiculous. Hope is not the answer to the very real, very tangible issues plaguing the human civilisation and, indeed, Planet Earth itself. Hope is not the solution to the absence of hope, for if it were then many a psychiatrist would be out of a job. Hope is not the key to unlocking the secrets of a greater and more promising life. Along the lines of these are further arguments which frequently cross my mind whenever this person and I engage in a conversation about the derogatory nature of society, yet I refrain from voicing them.

It is not about hope being the answer, though, as I have recently learnt from this person of whom I can only speak highly and with sheer respect and admiration. Hope is not about finding the answers, or the keys or anything really. Hope is about keeping up with the negativities and telling them to give you some breathing room so that you can think, you can process what is happening all around and assess you situation, so that you can come up with the best solution to the problem at hand.

Now this lesson hasn’t explicitly been given to me, but I have managed to interpret this and even though this leaves room for error, I take comfort in the fact that these are the kind of messages I am now able to derive from the words I once considered foolish and childishly optimistic. It gives me a certain sense of hope too; it gives me the hope that not everything and everyone in this world is rambling on about nothingness, that there is at least one person who knows something worth knowing.

Another remarkable thing about my unofficial mentor is that I have never seen even the slightest trace of hardship on this person’s face. We all have our issues, some are mountains looming in the near future challenging our paths ahead, some are demons from our pasts threatening to pull us back into their devilish clutches, and some are elephants in the room we willing to turn our backs upon. In any case, we have negativities plaguing our minds, and this is perhaps one of the defining features of our consciousness, a significance of ours as human beings. Yet even when worst comes to worst, I have never see our subject give way to the vortex of sorrows, which I believe is one of the greatest achievement’s of anyone, ever.

I am, of course, highly biased in favour of the person who taught me the meaning and importance of hope, but I cannot say it enough times for the words to successfully describe the sheer aura of positivity and the extent of hope that radiates from the aforementioned. It is my strong-founded belief that it would take something phenomenal for my mentor’s hopes to be deterred; and should such a scenario ever present itself, I shall take it for granted that mankind has seen its end.

Coming back to my situation of having bitten off more than I can chew: I was sorely tempted, until the beginning of writing this post in fact, to follow my tried and tested, and rather unsuccessful, method of disappearing into the shadows of the world. However, as I sat there, flitting from one task to the next, starting each one and leaving it midway, I though of how much further I had come ever since that one fateful night in the middle of September of last year. I thought about how my choices reflected the people I chose to associate myself with, and what I had learnt from them.

Suddenly, like a brilliant flash of inspiration, it hit me that even in the darkest, most dreary times of all, one can find hope, if only one has the strength to look for it, and stay on their course against all odds. There may seem times when all hope is absolutely lost, which is more often than not every other day of my life; in such cases, one simply has to do some soul-searching and create hope from within, which will promote the discovery of further hope, just like a chain reaction.

I knew that this realisation absolutely hadn’t come from within the dark and hollow pits of my plagued mind, and so I was, for a few moments at least, at a loss for the source of this inspiration. Needless to say, after having said it multiple times I mean, that the source of this sudden bout of positive energy was my dear friend.

That little jolt of inspiration is, in fact, all I needed to get back on my feet, and now I am ready to tackle whatever it is that needs tackling, until I hit my next low point of course. I realise how this would not have been at all possible had it not been for the wonderful person to whom I dedicate this post, as a small token of gratitude; thank you for showing me how to find myself when all seems lost.

Happy birthday.