“Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, when one only remembers to turn on the light.” – Albus Dumbledore

A great wizard said the above in a series of books I have come to admire and I must admit that I need to hear these words more often than naught.

Hope.

What an elusive, slippery and intangible word (like the great golden snitch of the above mentioned books). So hard to grasp what it is and harder still to understand its value.

It is the past that has taught me the value of hope despite its bleariness and darkness. When I look back into the darkness I can see the candle flicker of many small and sometimes bright lights that burst to life unexpectedly amidst the more all-too-expected blackness like stars going nova…going bright for a moment and then dark wherein the remnants weave themselves together again unseen into new light. It is these moments that give me hope.

I have come to expect darkness. I am never surprised by it. I understand this is a somewhat despairing way to look at things and if I could change out my eyes for new ones I would but I don’t know how.

What I do not expect is light. I never expect it or prepare for it but I have learned from the past to at least hope for it and embrace its possibility amidst the certainty of all other things.

Only the past can teach hope. Not the present and not the future…it arises only as a seed planted in the past. This is ironic since hope is rooted in the present and leans toward the potential light of the future like a sunflower before dawn that already looks toward where the sun will be, ready to make the most of it – as if it knows something we are not yet convinced of until it happens.

As the great writer Ernest Hemingway once wrote in a way that only a man who spends a great deal of time in the dark can write – “the sun also rises”.

Hope…hope is the sun that has not yet risen, it is the destination that one has not yet arrived at, it is the peace that sits far off on the horizon in the midst of the death of war.

Hope.

It is there because it has been realized before in those past moments of light. Those past moments of good that even one as misanthropic as myself must grudgingly accept as having once existed and therefore may one day exist again.

It is what I strive for even if I do not fully believe it will ever come.