contradictory words: jealous and hope

jealous:  onomatopoeia-like, it slithers off the tongue; rotting the soul, destroying all it touches, leaving debris in its path.

When I was taking a particular creative writing class, Pat, our instructor would give us short, often one word prompts, to write about for a minute or so. It was just enough time to jot down a sentence or two, a paragraph if you were quick. This practice kept my mind thinking of ways to consider words or phrases.

The commute to this class would be a little on the long side (I don’t live in PDX anymore), so I’ve taken to using a couple of sites for ideas. A few days ago the two words were so opposite of each other that it caught my attention:

rainbow: hope, confidence, expectation

jealous and hope

It’s funny, and not in a comical way, how these words are so contradictory. One full of causality and destruction, the other resonates with possibility.

All gets weighed in the balance we call life. Our scales tip back and forth until they settle; balanced or favoring a side.

Things eat away at our well-being. Jealousy revels in discontentment, driving us to more and different instead of finding satisfaction and enjoyment with enough. Hope is like sweet rays of sun shattering the darkness that engulfs. Hope knows a quietness of soul.

Hope differs from a wish; it is substantial. Hope has weight and substance, an innate security. Hope inspires a belief that is solidly rooted in the thought that all will be ok, even when we don’t know what ok looks like.

Admittedly, my scale goes back and forth.

I’d like to say that it was always tipped toward the hope side, but, well, I’m not that good. I question. I envy stuff. I feel insecure. 

Some days life is all bubbles. Others see all bubbles popped, laying in a soggy mess on the floor. However, somewhere in the recesses of my cerebral self I recognize that the stuff on the floor probably belongs there because there are bigger, better bubbles waiting to be blown.  Could that be hope having a conversation in my head?

As a result, I grab a paper towel and wipe up the slithery mess.

Missy

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