Hope and Fear
For a long time now I’ve viewed the concept of hope with
suspicion. My concern with the idea of hope probably started years ago when I
began studying Buddhist psychology and philosophy. Hope, defined as the
combination of desire and expectation, seemed to me to be a specific kind of
clinging to a view of the future or a situation that may very well turn out
differently from what one desired and expected. And, whether or not one got
what one hoped for, one would definitely be distracted from living effectively
with the current situation.
But, we all hope for things. Hope can be a way of saying
that we wish the best for people. It would be churlish of us, for example, to
not wish for a reduction of suffering and adequate aid to the people in the
Philippines who have recently been hit by a devastating typhoon. We hope that
they get help. We hope adequate aid arrives. Unfortunately, hope is not enough.
In these circumstances, our hopes are empty if we don’t contribute something to
the aid effort. So, we should not conflate “hoping” with contributing, thinking
that our desires and expectations are enough to impact on a situation. Some
view hope as a part of the “new age”, grandiose and misguided idea that we can
change things ONLY through the “power” of our thoughts. But, enough of that…
Last Thursday I had a CT scan of my chest. The purpose was
to try to determine the degree of cancer activity so that a decision can be
made about how many more chemo treatments I might need. The oncologist said
that since my blood work was very good and if the CT Scan was good, he would
like to take me off chemo after four treatments. From the beginning, he had
said that I would be looking at a range of 4 to 6 treatments, but originally he
didn’t give me any criteria for making the decision. Now I know at least some
of the criteria.
After the CT scan last week, I found myself expecting the
results to be good enough to end chemo at four treatments; and, as I became
consciously aware of this hope, I also noticed feeling fear and anxiety.
Actually, it is probably more accurate to say that my feeling of unease made me
recognize the hope lurking in my mind. There is no question but what these
kinds of tests create anxiety. But, why should I make it worse with hope? I
believe that hope will always create anxiety and/or fear. Since we are always
living with uncertainty, why clutter the mind with hope and fear? Needless to
say, easier said than done…
Turns out, I’m not alone in my opinion. The great 17th
century philosopher Baruch (Benedict) Spinoza thought that hope was a negative
state of mind. He thought that hope made us passive and prompted an uncritical
acceptance of and obedience to the status quo. He felt that hope and its partner,
fear, confined our views and understandings to narrow situations, disabling us
from being engaged with the broader picture of ourselves in society and in
nature. He said that, since hope harbored anxiety, it should not be a motivator
for our actions.
Spinoza believed that to be active in the world in a
positive way required that we call upon our innate desire to motivate ourselves
to become self-aware, reflective and capable of critical thought. In the words
of the Buddha, to “see things as they are”. Only then will we become effective
moral agents capable of identifying our place in the larger community and world
and capable of acting for its survival and betterment. Spinoza’s moral
psychology was based on the conviction that reason and emotion, mind and body,
humankind and nature were interdependent and inseparable. Hope only undermined
being active in the world.
Which brings me to the thoughtful comment Katy (Amanda’s
sister) made on my last post. If you click on the comment button you will see
what she wrote. She amusingly exhorts me to not wind up on a mountaintop in
some state of meditative bliss and I think she is exactly right when she says:
“Amanda won’t like it!” But, as I understand it, the goal of self-reflection,
contemplation or meditation isn’t to isolate oneself from the world and its
problems; rather it is to become more part of the world and its problems.
Indeed, it is common these days to hear the term “Engaged Buddhism”, which
highlights the necessity of contributing to the broader community. I think the
Buddha and Spinoza would have had some great conversations and I wouldn’t even
be surprised if Marx would have thoroughly enjoyed their company too!
As I sit here this morning challenging my mind to think
clearly and coherently, I am also looking out at a beautiful fall day full of
sunshine, bright colours, shapes and reflections. I am amazed that I am here at
all, that there is so much love in my life and I feel pretty good. So, I figure
I can just abandon hope and go for a walk. But just in the neighborhood—not up
the mountain.
The longer story will come in the next day or so, when Val puts together her next guest post and writes up all the medical details that escape me. Tomorrow she will take herself to her first Herceptin-only appointment.
