Of hope and fear

For those of you following the blog, I apologize for the long lapse between posts - life gets busy sometimes. I'll try to be more consistent and frequent in the future :)

This post is the result of a long process, inspired mostly by the thoughts and experiences others. It focuses on hope and fear – two concepts that wield a huge influence on our lives but that we rarely understand. Because they are predominantly emotions, we don’t often take the time to think about them in a relatively unimpassioned way, away from the heat of the moment. I guess this post is an attempt to do so, in the hopes that what is learned will be useful.

First, some definitions. Bear with me, it is actually crucial that we get them right.

Hope means looking forward for something good to happen in the future. You have no guarantee that it will occur, but you hope that it will. The opposite of hope is despair. It means that there is literally nothing that you want to happen in the future. You have given up on all of your hopes ever coming true.

You can’t live in a state of despair for long. What reason would you have to keep on living, other than the sheer momentum of your beating heart? In fact, I would define death to be living in a state of despair. Where hope brings life, despair extinguishes it.

Next, let’s define fear. Now, you might be thinking to yourself, “wait a minute! Isn’t fear the opposite of hope?” Yeah, I thought it was – until I was prompted by others to sit down and think about it. Turns out, fear is not the opposite of hope. As I said earlier, despair is hope’s opposite.

So what does that make fear? If you’re afraid, it means that you worry something good won’t happen, or that something bad will. Like hope, fear is related to events in the future, that haven’t occurred yet, but for which we have a definite preference. We hope that good things will happen; we fear that they won’t. We hope the bad ones won’t happen; we fear that they will.

Clearly, there is a relationship between hope and fear. But what is it, exactly?

Fear and hope are what I like to call an “opposition pair.” Now, this is a term I’ve coined because I’ve yet to come across a word in English that accurately captures the relationship between these two – though they are by no means the only opposition pair out there. An opposition pair are two objects that describe – through mutual opposition – one larger object. I know, that’s a crappy definition – I’m still struggling with the wording. Maybe some examples will help illustrate.

In Mathematics, it takes two directions (one positive, the other negative) to describe a single dimension. Think of a line – the classic one-dimensional object in math. It has two directions, but is comprises only one dimension. A two-dimensional object – a plane – requires four directions. Which is why there are four “quadrants” in the x-y plane, and four cardinal directions on a compass rose.

 In the Mathematics example, then, hope would be “+” while fear would be “-“.

But this example makes hope and fear seem like opposites again, so let me give you a better example from Physics. The physical world – as far as Physicists, a generally confused bunch, have a clue – is made up of particles. Each one, Physics teaches us, has an anti-particle associated with it, which has the same mass but most other characteristics (such as charge) are opposite those of the particle. Oh, and the anti-particle is made of ­anti-matter as well.

How does this apply? Well, in Physics there is a phenomenon known as pair creation whereby, via Einstein’s famous e = mc², pure energy can spontaneously condense and give rise to a pair of particles. This can happen for pairs of particles, but never for single particles by themselves. Why is this the case? The universe, it would seem, has a preference for symmetry, and there are a number of conservation laws that preserve it. So if you create an electron, you must also create an anti-electron (or “positron” as it is known) at the same time, moving in the exact opposite direction with exactly equal speed.

The Physics matches nicely with a concept taught in the Book of Mormon by a prophet by the name of Lehi – and here is where we finally make it back to hope and fear. Said Lehi, “for it must needs be that there is an opposition in all things” (2 Nephi 2:11).

Notice that he said “opposition in all things” and not to all things. It’s not that some omnipotent force is out there ensuring that everything we do is opposed. Rather, the universe was designed in such a way that the opposition is literally built into everything.

Like a positron and electron – or like two directions that together define a dimension – hope and fear are opposition pairs that together define something bigger. I’ll reveal later what I choose to call that bigger something.

The takeaway point here is that fear is not the opposite of hope so much as the reaction to it. Every time we begin to wish for something to occur in the future, we suffer the corollary fear that it won’t. When we extend our hopes, we extend the potential for disappointment – and, hence, fear. So hope and fear actually grow together, not at each other’s expense. I used to think – and I would argue it’s conventional wisdom – that the more you hope the less you fear, and vice versa. But in fact it’s not true – fear and hope grow together, like both directions of an expanding line segment, or particle pair creation.

But now wait, if hoping more only generates more fear, then why don’t we just conquer fear by ceasing to hope? Well, you can’t live without hope, as I pointed out earlier. As human beings, we’re bound to hope. It’s irrepressible! So that leaves us with no other option than to learn to manage our fears.

Which, of course, is no easy task. I mean, who enjoys facing their fears? I sure don’t. But this is mostly, I think, because fear is a poorly understood foe. And I have discovered, through my own experience, a general rule of thumb: the more you get to know your fears, the less scary they become.

Maybe, if I find the time, I’ll devote my next blog post to facing fear. But since I’ve made that promise in the past and not kept it, I’ll refrain from making the same mistake again. My next post will be on dealing with fear, In shah Allah.

Crossing to the other side

Life is a tall mountain range. We are on one side, and where we want to go is on the other. Life is so much better on that side; it is there that true happiness awaits us.

On the one hand we know we aren’t truly satisfied with where we are now, but on the other hand the mountains are so high and the path over them so long and hard. Is it really worth it – all that effort? Can we really make it? Do we have the strength and perseverance to make it all the way over?

We’re all secretly afraid of starting out and making it a long way up, only to realize we don’t have don’t have what it takes to reach the other side after all. Because sometimes, when you’re on that trail, anything seems better than going further. Sometimes we feel certain that nothing on the other side could possibly be worth this pain, this sweat and these tears.

After all, this side isn’t so bad, really. I mean, sure, it isn’t exactly as great as what’s on the far side, where we would really like to be. But it’s not exactly terrible either. It’s kind of comfortable, to be honest. We’re not particularly happy over here, but we’re comfortable. And it sure is easier than trying to cross those insurmountable mountains.

And what’s happiness anyway? Has anyone actually experienced it? Is there anything qualitatively different over there than what I have right here and now?

I mean, who’s good enough to make it over those mountains anyway? Certainly not alone – no one could possibly make it alone. And even with someone else helping you there’s no guarantee you’ll make it. You know what? After all is said and done, I think I’d rather stay on this side, thanks. I’ll leave the heroism and the “true happiness” (whatever that even means) to other people. Meanwhile, I’ll be enjoying my unhappy yet completely comfortable life right where I am now.

That’s the kicker. We fear losing comfort; we fear pain, disappointment, hardship, heartache. And we let those fears decide for us. Above all, though, we fear failure. We don’t want to come up against the limits of our ability, our strength, our goodness, and realize just how weak and ignoble we are. As long as life is comfortable and doesn’t make any real demands of us, we can go on giving ourselves the benefit of the doubt: assuming we’re better than we really are.

Growing hurts. Learning often comes with an ample dose of pain. Trying often leads to failing. Especially when we try to do it alone. But anything that is truly worthwhile is on the other side of those mountains. And don’t think that this an unfortunate coincidence. It’s that way by law of nature. Only after the climb are the views spectacular.

Wherever it is you would rather be, are you willing to give up your comfortable life to get there? Is the happiness worth the discomfort, the frustration, the unfairness, the pain? Are you worried you’ll fail?

My advice: give it everything you’ve got – literally everything – and don't give up. Oh, and one more thing: don’t do it alone.