Hope in Ink: Open Letters To Uplift And Inspire

To a Person who has Lost all his Hopes

Dear Silent Warrior,

As the shadows grow longer, you exhale deeply. Night is coming, and it feels both a shelter and an interminable hole. Wherever you turn in your life, the exits seem blocked, the options for freedom or choice dwindling or limited. The drum beat and drone of a persistent hopelessness play out their mournful rhythm. Life is closing down on you.

When you step into the place of despair, an ocean deep as this, it’s hard to know what coming out of it will ever feel like, or if it is even possible. The darkness drains all colour from life, all spark and possibility of fire to light your way out of this place.

Of course this is a type of depression. The depression that inhabits your very bones and cells, your way of thinking, moving, talking, being.

It might be the depression of not feeling loveable, not feeling like you matter, not feeling seen or wanted.

It might be the depression of seeing the world split between the haves and the have nots, the despoiling and murder of the planet, the exploitation of others for personal gain.

It might be the depression of not feeling represented or heard, and feeling that things will never change.

It might be the depression of not finding connection with others, being a lover, parent, friend, son, daughter, brother or sister.

It might be the depression of being parented by a narcissist or controlling mother or father

It might be the depression of childhood emotional neglect

It might be the depression of abuse, loss, violence or other trauma.

It might be the depression of not knowing your path and purpose in life, what you are called to do and where your blessed talents are most wanted and helpful.

It might be the depression of infertility or childlessness, denied this human right to have and love a child.

It might be the depression of a failing or diseased body or that of coming to the end.

These, and many more, are all reasons to feel hopeless, to feel mired in depression.

And if only it could change, right now. For the sun to break through the clouds and bring just the possibility that things can and will be different. If only that, now, soon. If only.

I wish there was solace enough for all these pains of yours right now.

In our world of quick fixes, instant gratification and incessant hurry, the longing is to be better, now, immediately.

This deepest work of the soul doesn’t work to that speed. It may be possible to make tweaks and changes that alleviate suffering, but the deepest changes of new emergence and possibility move at their own speed.

The work of therapy, isn’t simply to make the pain go away, though that might be an outcome.

It’s an invitation to step into the experience and to bring a gentle curiosity to it, to greet it, as best you can and stay with it as much as you can bear.