Life Wants to Live

James Pearson

I used to occasionally be subjected to those old zombie/horror movies from the 90’s where the protagonist is trying against all odds to outrun the creature destine to eat them alive or turn them into a likewise creature of the living dead and think, “My will to live just isn’t that strong. I would just succumb to death..”  I couldn’t imagine wanting to live through that kind of fear, that kind of gruesome darkness, that kind of me-against-the-zomibes mentality. I believed this idea that in great adversity people move into isolation and fending only for themselves. I don't believe in that anymore. I also think of my Jewish ancestors who similarly survived centuries of persecution and kept living to fight another day, looking for religious freedom and safety. So looking at myth as metaphor and here we are: wanting to live despite the darkness. Life wants to live even through horror and sorrow and mundane boredom. Even through there cracks in the pavement life wants to live. Life wants to live despite all it all. This brings me to nothing less than hope. 

Though I live with privileged—I do not wake up to bombs, I do not wake to starvation—this whole "life game" is nonetheless exhausting. A constant battle to fight the impacts of my sometimes truly heinous thinking; a constant struggle to find my footing in this world; a constant question about which way I am going because no road seems to lead me anywhere. I wish I had a house; a new car; a steadier income flow; a partner; a child; a stronger creative practice; a garden; capacity to do more for this world. In my early 40’s none of this has come to pass. There is grief, yes. There is disappointment, yes. There is angry, frustration, fear, courage, curiosity, yes. Yet perhaps most especially there is hope, but I’m not ready to tell you about that...yet. 

I am sometimes curious why I have not given up. I’m not sure what exactly that would look like but probably somewhere between suicide and a monastery. But I’m still here, exorcizing my fears, getting up and looking for more ways to thrive. I feel the threshold of something different, it always seems so close but I’m still not there… Or is that a dream? Am I looking for hope in a future that may never come? I’m not sure what the difference between hope and fantasy is sometimes. I’m not sure what the difference between courage and numbing my feelings to get through another day. 

And it’s not to say I simply endure life. I mean sure, sometimes, like anyone. But there is a lot of beauty in here too, it’s just that’s not what I want to talk about right now. 

Hope is perhaps boiled down to change. It's about change and how far you go. You don’t know how far I’ve come. Seriously, you don’t fucking know how far I’ve come. That is for me and God to know. They say it’s not how high you go but how far you’ve come. The valley's been steep. Sometimes I have to sit and view the vistas, sometimes I have to sit and feel the dust leech into my bones till I feel like I’m going to break, but then I finally get up. I always do. I’m not sure why. Where does this force come from? How do I know there is hope for another day? I’ve seen change. Oh god, I’ve seen a lot of change in me. You think you’ve seen change in me? That’s nothing compared what’s inside. Every failed relationships I get saner and saner. Every year I get stronger and stronger. Every day the spirits speak clearer and clearer. But I’m also not here to talk about that. 

The point is, where does this hope come from? I’ve never embraced archetypes as something to follow but I’m suddenly struck by a version of me that I’ve never seen. Perhaps I am the lonely, quiet crazy genius in the woods, writing novels and impacting the world from afar. Can I hope to be that cool? Can I hope to follow the greats? Can I hope to call Theresa of Avila my savior-hero? 

I don’t know. I wont get my hopes up. 

The point I am trying to make is that giving up hope feels like the most privileged and self-indulgent thing one can do. Hope does not preclude despair, anger, frustration, sorrow. Hope doesn’t mean you always feel good and it doesn’t mean you come easily into acceptance of the situation. Hope is not a platitude or a “look on the bright side of life!” Hope includes it all because it is the acknowledgement of reality, the acceptance of circumstances, the belief in something difference. If we didn’t have hope, why are you having children? Why are you getting out of bed? Why are you reading that self-help book? Why are you surrounding yourself with beauty? 

True hopelessness (which I have spent an inordinate amount of time in) is like pure darkness without perspective, wisdom or light. My youth was shrouded in hopelessness which I also called suicidal ideation. Except maybe even that wasn’t true hopelessness because I kept reaching for something. Blindly, angrily, with petty motives and a self-righteous belief I was supposed to be the exception to the rules of life. But whatever got me here now I can only attribute it to some misunderstood compass towards a hope that things would change. And they have; for me; the thoughts inside my head. And I feel blessed everyday that that is the case. 

But things all brings me back to the outside world because that is what this is all about. Or rather, inside and outside are proportional to one another. The world feels really bleak right now: Palestinian’s continued to be murdered; US citizens are being held without trail; the inhumane execution of Jesse Hoffman; whole branches of government being disbanded; the planet’s well-being; Elon Musk, enough said… It’s a lot to contend with everyday. And I am not a recipient of any of the worst of these atrocities. It is easy to fall into despair and hopelessness because it is easy and allows for a certain amount of freedom in a kind of twisted way. Hopelessness is inaction, but not the the kind of inaction that is also called rest. Rest is rest while hopelessness is just a dim view of the world. 

And I don't even know if this phrase actually makes sense but they say, it's always darkness right before the dawn. It's been true in my own life. The hardness moments are the most fruitful because that means change is coming so long as I keep following the light. The "light" being spirit and a belief in change and hope and guidance from a deep well of spiritual wisdom.

I think it is much braver to have hope and to believe that things can change. Everything is actually just a mirror anyway and the more we polish our own skin the shinier the world will become. This gruesome administration is sabotaging every aspect of life and yet is it possible to actually find (I’m sorry, don’t be mad at me for saying this), gratitude? Not gratitude for death and harrowing destruction but gratitude for life. But maybe there is gratitude in some of the atrocities as well, they teach us about who we are. I say this because right now we have an opportunity to dig deeper into ourselves and dig deeper into the beauty that actually surrounds us. If we succumb to the belief that it is all the worst and this is the end, well, we’ve already lost and then seriously, why are you having children? What will you say to them if you aren’t sharing hope? They need to believe—we all need to believe—that something is better because life wants to live and life is synonymous with complexity, and beauty, and joy, and grief, and love, and hope.