If people could be completely rational creatures, drives and desires explained with objective terms, then things would be easier. Imagine this also – a place where people kept their goals low so they might more easily attain them with very minimal risk of emotional involvement/upset. Is this what happiness could be comprised of? The mere setting and reaching of reasonable goals and the complete obfuscation of how one comes to the meaning of what is reasonable?
To my way of thinking this happens frequently in the real world. This setting of limits and guidelines, in many instances meant for the best, but done so often times out of fear. Could be fear of disappointment, either of one’s self or a loved one, of hurt or even simply the fear in others realizing and unlocking a potential we do not see in ourselves. To excel, to pursue a dream is perhaps one of the most noble of endeavors to my way of thinking. It is nothing short of miraculous to behold stubborn optimism in someone who is quite obviously doing so despite doubts or worries that are so much easier to cater to. There is safety in never trying. Not happiness, but safety. But this kind of safety is purchased at the price of hope.
That price is too high.
Risks always should be measured, but if the choice is cowardice or failure then failure gets it hands down. Failure means I fought myself and my demons and tried. Cowardice means I let the demons of self-doubt and inferiority reign. Who would you rather have as a ruler: 0ne that relegated you to misery or one who pushed you to constantly do better?
It’s in that vein I continue writing what I am, I suppose. While some days I think there is little hope in me that it will be published I still push on and work on it. You see, the work is my ideology put into story format and it’s something I believe passionately in. There is no small fear in me when I write this, no little voice inside my head that is easily quelled when it tells me it’s a fool’s errand. Righteousness is something I have a very hard time latching on to while the belief in my inferior intellect and sometimes iffy prose very easily are taken as truth. When those moments come about I recall why I started this project. Hope. There is no greater message I wish to convey to humanity than that little word and this story is my most ardent optimism. It’s the workings of my heart, of those wants and desires I addressed at the beginning of this post, and of my very rational and philosophical mind. All this translates to me as a person who, truth be told, does not exist separately from the writer.
Sometimes it helps to recall how hope can feel when one can not summon it for themselves. Here are a few things that aid and abet an optimism I ALWAYS have to fight for.
Lord of the Rings – The lighting of the beacons:
And for publishing hope I offer you the inscription written by Ayn Rand for Atlas Shrugged:
…I trust that no one will tell me that men such as I write about don’t exist. That this book has been written – and published- is my proof that they do.
What aids and abets your optimism? Where do you find you need it most?