What does hope look like? I am not sure, but I think I see her coming, and she is holding Joy’s hand.

Lock down time is gifting time. This past weekend we have received many presents from our different neighbours. From handmade chocolate ice cream to wine and fresh herbs, and even a Rooibos bar of soap. It’s nobody’s birthday. It’s just gifts, of hope. And playing among the gifts, are Elizabeth Kűbler-Ross’ five phases of grief. For what was and what is yet to come. Like a circle dance. Denial to acceptance. The end and the beginning.

I have recently read an inspiring article on hope. After the Covid-19 pandemic struck, the team at fineacts.co contacted 50 artists from 20 countries and asked them to create images that personified the theme of hope. Their reason: “Today, more than anything, humanity needs hope. And art is hope”.  Their question to inspire artists was: “What does hope look like?” This question made me realise that hope has many sides to it. It may be a feeling, or a sense of togetherness. It may look like something which reminds us of a hopeful time in our lives. It may be a longing for something we do not have now. It may even just be a thought, waiting to be constructed.

And I think we will all find hope again, if we realise that joy is in the small things around us. Like the smell of a recently lit candle. And the warm water bottle in our cold beds. Or the last autumn colours on the trees  and the almost sweet taste of hot coco in our mouths. I don’t think hope is in our material belongings, I think it lies in joy and gratitude for what we have, so that we can share with others.

Can you see her coming? I think it’s Joy, and she’s holding Hope’s hand!

©Liesl