Why hope matters

Sometimes when I mention I’m writing a four-book series of meditations on hope, people look at me like I’ve lost my mind. The polite ones nod and say, “How nice.” The bold and irritated grimace and assure me they have no need for a book on hope. Perhaps they don’t, but I do.

Hope matters because without it I fall into despair. When I’m hopeless, I do one of two things:  I either crawl into bed and assume the fetal position, or I turn feral. I act like a rat backed into a corner and lash out at anyone in front of me, including loved ones, friends, and children. I lash out at myself. These reactions of depression and rage are both counter-productive, and both feel like a living hell.

I need hope so I can breathe. I need hope so I can act. I need hope so I can feel love. This is why hope matters to me. What about you?

Join me and poet Annette Billings this Saturday for an exploration of hope. The goal of our workshop is to use a series of writing exercises to enable you to clarify your own feelings of hope. We want you to focus on what hope means for you, and to identify the best methods you can use to find and sustain hope within yourself. What I love so much about this workshop is that it’s about YOU. Our goal isn’t to teach you about our methods, but to guide you to find your own path. All levels of writers, from beginner to advanced, are welcome. Join us! Register here.




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