TIME TO HOPE

The dishes in my dishwasher are clean. I plan to get them out and put them away—later. In the meantime, I am writing to stave off the boredom that comes from having too much time at home and too little to do. Emptying the dishwasher is not the only thing I plan to do later. It is just one of the small things. Tuesday was a great day for putting things off. On Tuesday I didn’t take the garbage out or deliver the recycling to the bin. I didn’t update my financial records or strip the bed. You might think I am procrastinating, but really, I am generating self-hope. It will be better to think about a long period of self-isolation if I know there will be enough things to do in the future. It’s far too painful to contemplate a future with too little to do. I’ve known people who practice behaviors that I think of as reverse hope. Reverse hope helps us dread the future by making ourselves miserable in the present. Many years ago a friend of mine started sleeping on an uncomfortable bed. She had a comfortable bed, but she would be giving it up in three weeks and she thought she’d better start getting used to the new one before she was forced to sleep in it. Later I met a woman who refused to get out of bed because she wanted to avoid a fall that might break a hip. “I don’t want to break a hip and be bed-ridden,” she said. In good times, hope allows us to look forward to the future. In the not-so-good times, hope allows us to think about the future and be okay in the present. At present I am looking forward to a future in which I will avoid doing certain things by keeping busy doing things I want to do. Come to think of it, I can do that right now. I may empty the dishwasher today, but I am definitely not going to tidy my underwear drawer. If I am to have all this unsolicited available time at home, I plan to avoid wasting it on things I would naturally want to avoid, like cleaning out my closets and kitchen cupboards. I’d rather write. It’s a hope thing.