Terry Eagleton, in his newest book "Hope without Optimism" says, "A future that could be adequately captured in the language of the present would be too complicit with the status quo, and so would scarcely count as a genuine future at all."

I agree.

Last week I said, "the status quo is obsolete."

But to move beyond the status quo, one must look to the future; yet one can only do so in the present moment---with "the language of the present." Regardless, we cannot help but to continue to look to the future. As I consider this quandary of how to consider the future in the present, I see the window that we look through to be one of either hope or despair. This is the same window. And we all have the same view; one of uncertainty. Hope or despair depends upon individual perspective and interpretation. You may see a glorious panorama; I may see a dark wood. You may see sunshine and flowers; I may see clouds and rough terrain. You may see the surface serenity of a placid lake; I may see the cold turmoil of a monstrous depth. You may see endless possibility; I may see the edge of an abyss. You may see the warmth of welcoming crowds; I may see the solitude of a lonely path. You may see safety in numbers; I may see the desolate challenge of endless possibility.

If one sees hope through this window, their hope can further be differentiated as active or passive.

In "this post" in September I characterized "active hope" as an expenditure of "thoughtfully persistent effort for progressively higher Truths."

In that same post in September I characterized "passive hope" as any unquestioning belief that will "sentence oneself to a Life of lazy, trite security for some measure of comfort."

Despair can also be differentiated as active or passive, differing from hope in that passive despair will sentence one to a Life of docile, vexatious insecurity leading to chronic discomfort.

I would characterize one side of active despair as having the potential to encourage an expenditure of "thoughtfully persistent effort for progressively higher Truths."

But active despair may also turn dark; and ugly.

So one must focus, expending effort, to ensure that active despair, like active hope, will lead one to see a potential for possibility. Some would say that this mode of despair is more realistic. Others would say that hope is more productively beneficial. I would say the more significant distinction is one's choice of active or passive.

Typically, most would agree that one's hope or despair is future oriented. I would argue that passive hope and passive despair are situated firmly in the present, perhaps looking toward the future, but from a sitting position, waiting for it to come to them.

Regardless, because hope and the future are so intimately intertwined, just as I cannot know the future, I also cannot know the ultimate manifestation of genuine hope. If I am able to lucidly explain my ultimate hope or hopes for all of humanity, with any amount of certainty and/or conviction, I am likely practicing passive hope.

And in this same vein, just because despair and the future are so intimately intertwined, does not mean that I cannot know the ultimate manifestation of genuine despair. If I put forth the effort to lucidly explain my personal hopelessness and despair to another, with painful sincerity, I am practicing active despair; which may lead to active hope.

To succumb to silence is to risk knowing the ultimate manifestation of genuine despair. To succumb to silence, is not "active." But to act on silent despair may become dark; and ugly; and dangerous.

Last week I determined that I must loudly build creative, constructive tension. This week I have reinforced the necessity of vocal action to prompt thoughtful confrontation, negotiation, and growth. This week I have, (more poignantly than I can remember having done so before), seen the danger in silent despair.