For a long time I thought hope was something that happened to you. On a good day it showed up. On a bad day it did not. I figured some people were just born with more of it, and I had an average supply, and that was that.
I do not believe that anymore. I think hope is closer to a muscle than a mood. You build it by using it, usually on the days you least feel like it. And the people who seem to have more of it are mostly people who have practiced it longer.
The difference between the feeling and the habit
The feeling of hope is wonderful and unreliable. It comes with good news, sunny mornings, a kind word, a win. It leaves with bad news, gray weeks, and tiredness. If you only have hope when you feel it, you have it least when you need it most.
The habit of hope is different. It is a set of small things you do whether or not the feeling is there. Getting up and opening the blinds. Praying even when the prayer feels like it bounces off the ceiling. Making plans for next month on a day when next week looks grim. Saying out loud, this is not the end of the story, when every part of you is writing the ending.
The habit does not depend on how you feel. That is what makes it worth building.
The practices that kept me going
These are mine. They are not fancy. Take what fits.
I start the day by naming one thing I am looking forward to. It can be small. The walk. A call with my parents. Tacos. On the worst days it is the fact that the day will end. Naming it points my head forward instead of backward.
I pray short and plain. Thank you for this. Help me with that. I am not sure about this other thing. I do not wait until I feel close to God to talk to Him. I talk to Him and the closeness comes and goes, and that is all right.
I keep a running list of things that worked out. Not big miracles. The job that came through late. The friend who called at the right time. The doctor’s appointment that turned out fine. When the fear says nothing ever works out, I read the list. The list wins every time, because the list is true.
And I do one thing for someone else. Hope grows fastest when it is shared. The days I feel the most hopeless are almost always the days I have been staring at my own situation for too long. Helping somebody, even in a small way, gets my eyes off the wall.
Hope in a dry season
I have had seasons where the feeling was gone for months. Not sad exactly, just flat. In those stretches the habit was the only thing holding the line. I kept opening the blinds. I kept praying the plain prayers. I kept the list. I did not feel hopeful, but I kept acting like someone who was, and eventually the feeling came back and found the house in order.
I think that is how it works for most of us. You do the hopeful thing first. The hopeful feeling follows later, sometimes much later. If you wait for it to lead, you can wait a long time.
Play a Positive Phil game
Hope Hangman
Guess the word. Keep the sun up.
I built a small game called Hope Hangman for the flat days. It is just guessing words that point the right direction, a few minutes at a time. It is not deep. But it is one more small hopeful thing to do when the feeling is nowhere to be found, and sometimes that is enough to turn an afternoon.
Start small
If hope feels thin right now, do not try to feel better. Try to do one hopeful thing today. Open the blinds. Name one thing you are looking forward to. Write down one thing that worked out this year. Say a short prayer that is mostly thank you. Text someone who is struggling.
Then do it again tomorrow. You will not feel different right away. You will be different, a little, and that adds up. Hope is a habit. Habits are built one plain day at a time.
Do the hopeful thing first. The hopeful feeling follows, eventually.
