Without Hope

Do you remember T. S. Eliot’s waiting without hope: “For hope would be hope for the wrong thing”?  I have thought quite a lot about this lately.  When we live in a state that is without hope, we see how brittle the rest of the world is and how dependent it is upon something to hope for. And yet, as Eliot suggests, it may be that it is only without hope – just waiting – that contentment can be found, a state of utter surrender to the present.

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