Hope Springs Internal

Have you ever hoped for something so hard that it hurt?  Maybe you wanted a toy as a kid, a party invitation as a teen, a job offer as an adult.  Or, like many, perhaps you were hoping to heal an important relationship.

This kind of hard hoping physically knots your stomach, churns your insides, and pulls on so many of your emotions it feels like you a never-ending ride on a rickety old merry-go-round.  This kind of hope is all-consuming and a sign that you’re likely experiencing ambiguous grief.

Losing someone you love, but not to death, is tricky. So, for those living with ambiguous grief, hope is tricky too – because here, it can get in the way of healing. 

I know because I spent many, many, months spinning on the hope-merry-go-round.

For those who lose a loved one to death, hope for a reunion on earth is gone.  Grievers by death aren’t waiting for their loved one to call and announce the good news that will heal the restore the relationship. They aren’t waiting for grand gestures of apology, a cure to a disease or illness, a triumph over addiction, or a reunification after estrangement.  But ambiguous grievers often are. And that’s precisely what makes this grief so tricky.

Without a physical death, hope for restoration remains.

In observing my own behavior during this time, I noticed something: the more I focused hope on my lost relationship, the faster that rickety, old merry-go-round spun.  I would hop off and take a break, only to return with a running start and hop back on.  Until it reached its top speed and I’d have to jump off again, dizzy and confused like the time before. This is the dysfunctional cycle of hope.

But as my cycle breaks grew longer and longer, I realized that it was during this time that I focused on myself.  I was just too exhausted and drained to focus my hope anywhere else.

I used these breaks like a nap, recharging for what came next.  It was during this time, that I practiced hoping for my future as a single mother.

I took inventory of my life and my interests.

How can I best care for my children?

What are my passions?

What are my gifts?

How can I be of service to others?

How did I want to define my life moving forward?

The time and energy I spent hoping for myself changed everything.

Every. Single. Thing.

I was able to detach from the hope of any resolved relationship, to see the relationship for what it was, and even for what it wasn’t (but I thought it was), and to begin to stand on my own again.  I didn’t “give up” on hope, but I made a conscious decision to stop hoping in the wrong direction.

But hope is persnickety and would still make surprise drop-ins, inviting me back onto the merry-go-round.  When that would happen, I would acknowledge it, and then use mental imagery to move that hope to a box I keep tucked away in the attic of my mind.  Then, immediately, I would envision a hope I have for myself, sit with it for a moment, and then move on with my day.

Hope keeps us going.  But it’s dangerous because sometimes, it shouldn’t.  Not when it’s misdirected, and especially not when it’s been misdirected for so long that the rickety old merry-go-round begins to rust.  That’s a huge sign that it’s time to hop off.  I am so glad I did.

Now, my hope is for helping others through their healing, my own continued post-traumatic growth, and the beautiful and (God willing) long life I have in front of me.

If you’re spinning on the merry-go-round of hope, hop-off ASAP – and let’s start a healing plan of hope for YOU!

You’ll be glad you did!