Hope—Journey, Destination, or Both?
Is hope something we arrive at—or something we walk with? Lately, I’m not so sure. This piece is a personal reflection on how hope has surprised me, slipped away, and shown up when I least expected it.
An honest reflection on something we all chase but rarely define.
Hope can feel elusive—sometimes not even real.
Is it a place we arrive at?
Or something we obtain?
I’m not always so sure.
Logic tells me it’s real.
I hear it in poems and songs.
I see it in the faces of young children.
But as I’ve grown older, I’m not so sure.
Experience has taught me that hope is fleeting, slippery, and rarely what I expect.
It shows up at the strangest moments—uninvited, undeserved—squeezed out of seemingly impossible situations.
And yet…
I’ve experienced it.
Which suggests, at least to me, that getting to hope is possible.
What’s also true is that hope often walks a tightrope—
Tipping easily into sadness, shame, guilt, even anger.
It’s can even be close to being all-consuming...
But not quite.
This is my hope—for you. For us.
That hope itself can be experienced.
Held.
Shared.
That we can, in fact, arrive at it.
And when we do, it might not look like we expected.
Maybe it was never about the destination.
Maybe it was about the journey all along.
What do you think?
Shall we travel together?
