Holding on to hope without knowing what it looks like!
Two discoveries I made about hope. Or maybe three?
Last week was the start of the Christmas season in Finland. This included the traditional Pikkujoulu tradition. It is when people gather somewhere inside, outside, at work, at home. Friends, colleagues, sport teams, or just with family. It is an informal way to end the year. With food, drinks and laughter. Also singing. If people dare!
It is still a bit new thing for me as I am more of an ‘advent’ person. Meaning four weeks before Christmas I light a candle each sunday. Not only as a reminder that Christmas is coming. But I also use this time to reflect.
Last week I shared on Facebook that like many, I get a bit gloomy around this time of the year. So I search for every little light, a hot drink, a visit to cozy places. Letting myself be surrounded by loving fully company.
In a way Pikkujoulu and Advent gives me both the necessary time for solitude and a chance for meeting others. They both keep me holding on to hope. As I wrote this last sentence I stopped.
‘What am I saying here?’ I asked myself.
It made me think two things:
Firstly: We always seem to use the word hope and after that speak out our ´wish´.
Let’s say someone sends you a text message ‘I have the flu and cannot come tonight.’ What do you do? You write back something like: ‘I hope you feel better soon!’ Come to think of it, how many times you answer someone starting a sentence with: ‘I hope, or let’s hope..’
This week I talked to different people from all walks of life and shared my thoughts. On hearing the word ‘hope’ it opened up many interesting conversations. I listened to people speaking out their hope for a new job in the new year. Then one evening an old friend texted me about a relationship breakup and the hope that the divorce would go peacefully.
That leads me to my second discovery:
How can I hold on to hope if I do not know what it looks like?!
It can be round shaped. Big and soft so you literally embrace it. Or maybe it is small so it fits in the palm of your hand. Maybe it even makes a noise when you squeeze in it. As a way of reminder saying ‘He, Hope is here, you will make it!’
Let me introduce you to our four Advent candles. I know, it looks a bit weird. No candle is the same. And what is that white half broken white candle doing there on the left? Well, that is the candle from last year's advent candles.
That is what hope looks like for me
With the white candle almost melted, it does not mean that hope has melted. The contrary! When hope seems to fade away, there is a new candle that rises up and continues to burn the light of hope inside of me.
So hope is. Without needing to speak out anything after that.
Hope is.
Full Stop.