Hope

Every year, at around this time, I have thoughts about my own mortality.
Every year, without fail, someone somewhere out there will try his very best to kill me. I do not know who he is, nor who he will be, the next year and the year after that.
Each year, I hope beyond all hope that it will not happen again, but I know better.

And it's not only me, it's my entire family who's involved as well.

I'm referring to CNY driving on Singapore roads.

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Hope is really a topic best left unexplained - almost everyone knows what it is. It's the quality that makes the events of each day worth living. And it drives the search for meaning.

But for some, each day is "more of the same", and little brightens it.

Part of social work requires the rebuilding of hope. And it has to be the person's own reframing of his situation, and enlightenment about his support networks and habits of self-care, that allow hope to regenerate. No one else can do those for him. No one else can take those steps for him. He has to find within himself the emotion to change.

Often the way is obvious, even to the person.

This bears repeating. Often the way is obvious. But what makes him take it, is an emotion. It may be ratified by post hoc justification, or it may not. That does not much matter.

If I were to advise CNY drivers to be more careful, I could do it till I was blue in the face, and I would still have to drive as defensively as always. Because not everyone would see. Not everyone would see the need to not hurt, not kill, and not threaten to take by force another's life, simply because they are lost on the roads, or impatient, or, good grief, drunk.

Please. Do it. Feel it.