Hope Springs Eternal

Recently, the Fat Kid has been criticised (shock, gasp!) for being - if you can believe it - too positive. Now, to those of you who have known me for years, including my wild and checkered past of negativity and Eeyore-induced melancholy, you're either about be completely blown away by this, or you will suddenly have a conversion of faith - perhaps even both. Yes, I have been accused of being too positive, of possessing too much hope, faith in humanity, good-naturedness, happiness, and even joy. Specifically, I have been told that it is a waste of my time, and I am deluded. I have been told that love, happiness, contentedness, and good things do not exist, and that my outlook on life should be pitied.

I am fortunate enough to have friends and loved ones who - even through the years of "ho-hum, thanks for noticing" claptrap I would utter - found ways to show they cared...often amidst my strong objections. They celebrated my birthday when I told them not to. They said "good morning" even when they knew my standard response was, "What's good about it?" They stuck with me through thick and thin, no matter how many times I tried to stand alone, aloof, and apart from the rest of the crowd. They didn't give up on me, even when I'd given up on myself, and I am a better man because of it.

At no time has this been made more clear to me than in the last few weeks. I was lucky enough to meet someone who was the very reflection of what I used to be: afraid to share, to give of myself, to let people touch my life and affect me, to be open and honest with who I am, and show off my best qualities. I was also lucky enough to see a friend make a decision to change her very life, and dare to dream again, to take a risk and say "Damn the risk! This thing is good, I deserve it, I want it, and even if it means I get hurt, I'll do it anyway!" And then, that same person said to me, "You never gave up on me, when I was giving up on myself."

It was, in a word, humbling. And then I was accused of wasting my life and time and energy on being poisitve when there was no point. To that, I say simply (and I think appropriately, too) Bullshit. To hope, to dream, to evision something that doesn't yet exist is to bring out the best elements in yourself, and maybe, if you're lucky, you'll help someone else out along the way. You might not even know you're doing it, but a kind word or smile, a simple cheery hello, anything at all can brighten someone's day. It makes a difference. That is never a waste.

There is nothing else like Man on this planet. Sure, we have our faults. We pollute, we waste resources, we kill, we steal, we're selfish, we're bigoted, we're rude, we're dishonest - heck, there's a lot of bad things about us. But we also have the ability to dream, to hope, to nurture, to give, to grow, to help, to inspire, to create, and to be kind. These things are not instinctual. They have nothing to do with basic living needs. They are choices we make, and whatever we choose to focus on is what we will receive in kind. We simply have to make the choice.

To those who have been bright spots in my life when I was in despair, you have my humble thanks. To those who were annoyingly positive during that time, you'll be happy to know your smiley-ness has infected me and it's spreading. To those to whom I'm now annoyingly positive, resistance is futile.

Hope springs eternal. It cannot be crushed unless we allow it - unless we choose to crush it within ourselves. I choose to nourish hope, I dare to dream. Why? Because I believe we're worth it. And I may be a fool for it, and I may get burned a time or two because of it, and I may get my hopes dashed to pieces on occasion. That's reality - it can happen. But so what? Like my friend says, "Damn the risk!"

Thanks for reading.

The Fat Kid