Hope as Faith

In the last few weeks, I have felt pieces of myself fall away. Like a snake molts, sheds dead skin. Like a sculptor chisels away stone to discover the inherent art.

Is this what a rebirth is? I have no experience but it’s the only word that comes to mind. Not a rebirth in the religious sense but surely spiritual. Not a ritual baptism, something more fundamental, more personal – a renewal of hope.

Let me ask a question, rhetorical but important. What if tomorrow we all woke up with past firmly behind, with a rejuvenated optimism and a startling new hope? How would this change your life and world, the lives of your friends and family, even change the world?

That change could be fantastic and open our eyes to a realm of endless possibilities. A change that could turn us away from the hurt, despair and misunderstanding of the past.

Sure, this is a utopian vision. Perhaps it’s hubris to suggest. But why shouldn’t we believe that a better life is possible, that a better world is possible. That compassion and understanding can prevail.

As recent days have passed, I have felt a new hope sweeping through me. A hope, or dream, that I have never encountered, never known.

I hope this hope is a permanent part of my life.

Many people find this same hope by having faith in a formal religion. By believing that everything, good or bad, happens for a reason.

For me, I have not found a religion that I can fully trust. Religions, in general, have been at the centre of so much injustice, violence, intolerance and war. This is only my opinion and I certainly am not denigrating anyone’s beliefs. I respect these convictions and sometimes I wish I could have the same.

But I don’t.

However, when it comes to my life and mental illness, I have to hold onto hope. For a fulfilling life, for proper treatment, for a cure. I hope this for all of us.

I choose hope. I choose love as my doctrine.

Hope as Faith.