High hopes (and deceitful hamsters)
I have a bone to pick with hope.
On the surface it seems like a great thing, and easily beats the alternative. It helps you believe that there’s reason to be optimistic… that there’s reason to keep going… that good things are a’comin’…
And so forth.
But hope is a sinister minister (thanks, Bela). ((If you get that reference without Google-cheating, shoot me a note)).
Here’s the Google-ific definition of the noun:
a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen.
…and the verb:
want something to happen or be the case.
Hope, the idea of it, is entirely overused and overvalued in our culture.
Hope is an isolated and isolating idea. It stands alone. It doesn’t inspire action, or a plan, or direction, or measurable progress. It just sits there. You can take it or leave it. And it’s SO tempting to take it. And we mostly want it. It makes us feel better.
But hope is passive. Depressingly passive. Hope is like a fat hamster. It is soft, friendly; rests its chubby little toe pads in the palm of your hand, wiggles its sniffing whiskers, and looks around… it makes you feel all warm and placid.
But then, if you hold it long enough, it just poops on your wrist.
There’s nothing meaningful or attainable that hope can deliver. Just like the fat hamster, hope’s solace is fleeting and disloyal.
On the other hand (the hand that’s not holding the disappointing pet), you might argue that a pudgy rodent makes you feel good, and is therefore good. After all, you say, feeling good is better than feeling bad.
We just disagree. I’m down with feeling good, but I’d like it to come from something real and lasting.
Give me, any day, the steadfastness of a dog, the self-reliance of a cat, the endurance of a horse. I, for one, am leaving Hope the Hamster on the wheel.
If you’re on the wheel, consider getting off. Try decisive action. Something new. Something that scares you, even.
Perhaps something like amazing workouts that elicit…
“I’ve spent countless hours over many years in a conventional gym but through Broga I’m enjoying new and interesting techniques. Thanks!” -Dan, Australia
At $12/mo, it’s roughly six quadrillion times more expensive than hope. But it works a lot better.*
PS – “Hope is not a strategy.” – James Cameron and/or Vince Lombardi
*and it’s cheaper than a hamster
Adam brings a breadth of business experience to his role as the CEO of YFM, where he oversees business development, marketing, design, public relations, web development, merchandising, and licensee communications.
Having grown up in a “yoga household,” Adam spent much of his very active, athletic life wondering why yoga wasn’t offered in schools as part of sports training and why/how it had been branded as a lifestyle “for chicks.” In spite of the recommendations of his yoga-teaching Mom, he never embraced the practice until is mid twenties, when he developed a debilitating case of sciatica that put him in physical therapy for six months. It was during his recovery that Adam started thinking about how yoga could be better marketed to appeal to other men who knew about the benefits, but weren’t compelled to attend classes.
Adam has a B.S. in Environmental Economics & Entrepreneurship from the University of Massachusetts, Amherst. He lives in Cazenovia, New York with his wife, Anya, their daughter Maeve, and various freeloading pets and farm animals.