Hopes and Expectations

I have not heard from my sister and sister in law back in Indianapolis and the news from there is rarely good because they are both in very difficult places. From here I can do little about any of it, but ironically I feel the need to get some information before I go to Norway for a fortnight. I know it is foolish because I will be no further away actually, but it has become something more urgent than packing my case or checking for my passport for the 47th time. So I sat myself down to write about it, which of course is my way of thinking a bit harder about the things that don't make obvious sense.


Hope is the best and worst thing let out of Pandora's box. The best because it buoys up and leads us into achievements and commitments beyond what we can see. Not a Pollyanna naivete or Dr Pangloss best of all possible worlds, but the kind of oh yes I think that could work if we put our shoulders to the wheel. I spend a good part of my life in this camp.


Hope is the worst thing out of Pandora's box because it leaves us doubly bereft when it cannot be sustained. I have spent some time among the doubly bereft: the inevitable consequence of time spent in the hopeful camp. "Hope for the best but expect the worst" is a good rule of thumb and like most aphorisms nearly impossible to carry out except in brief glimmers. For all my whimsy and poetry, I am a rather sturdy soul if I have the time and space to get the bad news tucked safely albeit temporarily like a wayward shirttail into my belt. And that is why no news is so disconcerting--it leaves my shirttail flapping in the breeze.