When I was walking back through Kings Cross station with the world on my shoulders and my eyes on the floor, I suddenly remembered a good idea that I’d almost forgotten; and, all at once, the weight was lifted and the bounce in my step returned –
There is nothing more important than a little hope.
It is that small glimmer of possibility, that makes the unbearable, bearable; and, changes the frustration of ‘can’t’ to ‘might’.
Without possibility, there is no hope; and, without hope – well, what’s the point?
At the height of my eating disorder, hope was horribly absent. I had tried – and failed – so frequently it felt like I had used up my quota of optimism and energy; that I had exhausted all the “but I could try this” strategies…
I was wrong. There is always something to try; and, so, there is always hope:
An idea from a friend that you hadn’t thought of or a suggestion from a book that you’d almost overlooked.
An impossibility in one situation – that becomes a possibility in the next; a slight change that didn’t work the first time round – but holds the golden key when the time is right.
The one person that, against all odds, has made it; and, the millions who amaze on a daily basis.
In the depths of my depression, hope was elusive, and tempered by distrust. It was accompanied, automatically, with a warning of disappointment: going up just leads to a bigger coming down….
This kept me stuck. There are always possibilities; and, so, there is nothing to lose in a little hope -
Because the zig zags get smaller and go upwards; and, a disappointment is only a disappointment if you discard the learning.
Because the small glimmers of light at least keep you looking forward; and, one setback is only a catastrophe when there are no other options –
Which can’t happen when there is always something I can try –
And there is, therefore, always hope.