I think speaking hopefully is an art. It’s a skill that is developed through turning tragedies into wisdom and optimism over and over again. It’s like an iron forged in fires that keep burning endlessly. Thinking of a hopeful future in a life filled with grief and worry and in a world often tortured by unkind acts is in itself an act of rebellion and, therefore, by nature, a work of art.

We find ourselves burdened by a future that may never appear and blanketed by a past we can never go back to. To think of a life where each day is not a battle for survival is an act of love and hope. It’s an interesting thing, this hope. Regardless of whether the outcome is what we wish for, it has the tremendous power of getting us into action. And, at the end of the day, action is what keeps us grounded to our present, to where we are in our physical realities – with 5 things to see, 4 things to touch, 3 things to hear, 2 things to smell and 1 thing to taste. Sorry, old habits die hard. 

Speaking of habits, the art of hopeful thinking can often be turned into a habit; just the same way, if we’re not mindful enough, pessimistic thinking (or more colloquially popular as the ‘we’re fucked’ mindset) can become one. What we do often becomes a habit, and what becomes a habit becomes a part of who we are. Neurologically speaking, anything we repeat causes our neural pathways in our brains to become stronger, and the stronger a neural pathway is for any action or line of thought/ perspective, the more likely we are to do it as a response to the things around us. 

I often write about hope and love and art, but I rarely read about any of those ideas willingly. Give me a suspense thriller with a gruesome crime, and I will inhale the story in a day; give me a love story where the two people build a life together with meaningful conversations and healthy behaviours, and it will take me years to get through the first 3 pages. Which is ironic, because I don’t think I admire anything in life as much as I do love and hope and kindness and art, and yet I cannot bring myself to read stories that may actually feed my neural pathways with healthier content. Which probably explains why I need to put in additional efforts of affirming to myself that I am safe and cherished, and keep my mind from coming up with multiple gory scenarios with complex plotlines and hateful subplots for the things that happen during the day in my life. Hey, you’ve got to give credit to the level of creative thinking that my brain engages in within such short bursts of time! There is a reason I bring this up, which is that we often consume content without filtering what we see partially because on social media or even movies and books, we don’t get to decide what’s out there, and our choice is limited to what already exists, and partially because it takes too much mental energy. Which brings me back to my earlier point about what we repeat, we do naturally, and what we do becomes who we are. I mean, what an original thought, right? 

So going back to hopeful thinking, if we become what we do and what we do is shaped by what we repeat, perhaps it is vital to repeat actions that bring value to our lives. And I’m just not talking about eating healthy and moving our bodies, but I am also talking about how we talk to ourselves about our own lives. I suppose the point I am trying to make is that maybe things are going to get better because I will act better because I will think better, and eventually I would not have to put in so much effort to think better because it would become a part of who I am and the life I live. And perhaps that is what would make me an artist.