The Texture of Hope

Lately I have really been delving deeply into what words mean to me. Looking at my inner self and seeing what it is that moves me, drives me forward. Well, today while surfing the web I stumbled upon this writing prompt and I loved the idea and thought to share with you my answer. The prompt was this: What is the texture of Hope? I now have a passion and want to explore some of the words I have already very recently looked at, and keep up with my inner explorations. In the meantime, here is my answer:

hope
from somewhere on the interwebs

Hope holds a texture all its own. It is the texture of the softest blanket and the roughest sandpaper. Soft because hope gives so much to the heart and mind. It creates the idea of so much more. Rough because, the road following hope is often filled with bumps. You fall, you get drug along the way, and yet with hope you keep moving forward.
Hope, to me, is about achieving the end goal. It is about the possibilities that live in every experience, every idea and every dream. The dictionary tells us that hope is: a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen. But it is really so much more than that. It is a belief, a belief that things really can be more than they seem. That no matter the odds dreams, ideas, goals, that they can still be achieved.

 

What about you? What texture does hope hold for you? What does the word symbolize and mean when you think about it, feel it, and experience it? I would love to hear about it!

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4 thoughts on “The Texture of Hope”

  1. I have had a fresh injection of hope in the last few days. It’s been rather nice to ride that high of all the possibilities. I took a bit of a kick to the proverbial gut this evening, but I will prevail. These hopes and dreams will not be silenced. They will find a way to be born.

    Hope to me is expectant joy. It’s that last few days before Christmas. It’s the ethos that the butterflies flap in when you meet someone special for the first few times. It’s that beautiful siren that drags you along the rocky road toward your dreams.
    I agree with you about it being the softest blanket and the rough sandpaper. There is often pain with the hope, but without a little pain, how could we appreciate the lovely softness?

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