The Responsibility of Hope
The Responsibility of Hope
a short life preserver of a thought
My Neighbor’s Flag
The flag in the picture flies in my neighborhood, close enough that I see it on most of my ventures outside. I stop every time I go for a walk, jog, or run, just to look at it. It hits me differently, depending on my mood and mindset.
Sometimes it seems symbolic to the point of pain—a tattered flag for an empire that’s a pale shadow of its former self. Other times, it seems heretical—rural New England is one of the most beautiful places on earth, and they have to fly a rag in place of our beautiful flag? Sometimes it makes me stand up straight. Other times, it makes me cry.
I don’t know why my neighbors continue to fly it, tattered and torn as it is. Maybe the flag belonged to a beloved relative, now deceased, and they can’t bear to take it down. Maybe they, like so many Americans these days, are upset or angry and so violate the flag code by flying a damaged, shredded flag as a middle finger to the notion that America and her symbols deserve respect.
Choosing Meaning, Choosing Hope
Today I am choosing to see the flag as a symbol of hope.
It’s damaged. It’s torn. Even if someone puts tremendous energy into fixing it, it’ll never be what it once was, or what it could’ve been.
Still, it flies. It’s there, against the backdrop of the blue sky. It stands for freedom, self-determination, and natural rights; it is a symbol of hope and a reason to keep fighting for liberty, no matter how many people want to make it stand for something else. Even though, tragically, some of the people who want it to stand for something else are elected to high office.
Optimism as a Duty
Things are bleak, and in many respects they are objectively getting worse.
It occurred to me today that perhaps hope and optimism are, in fact, duties. A focus on the negative, no matter how realistic and truthful, is still draining: of energy, both physical and mental; of internal resources, and of insight.
A parent has the duty to love, with actions and words, even if they can’t make themselves feel the corresponding emotions.
Maybe patriots have the duty of optimism.
Maybe hope is a responsibility.
Maybe giving in to fear, anger, and the resulting depression—in actions, which are controllable in a way that feelings are not—is a dereliction of duty.