The burden of optimism

People like to think that other people are honest, helpful, kind. It’s our default. That’s why acts of selflessness, especially in adversity, make us believe and rejoice in the human triumph and global humanity. That we’re all going to be ok.

But what if you live in a place. In a place so remote, so undeveloped by global ‘standards’, that even with all the optimism, all of the trying, all of the spirit you have, you are still dampened by injustice?

Where your closest school is on the other side of the island, and between you and an education is a mountain range, that is impossible to access if the brooding purple skies loom on the horizon.

Where the choice between a physically abusive partner and poverty, is painfully clear. In the literal sense of the word.

Where you have the potential to grow cocoa that can be awarded the highest accolades by global ‘standards’, yet you can’t muster the meagre money that’s needed to repair your cocoa dryer in order to compete.

How long must your optimism last? Or do you yield, and just wait. Wait and hope that someone, some outside helping hand, finds you. 

All the energy you expend trying, being optimistic, mustering all your meagre resources, if the odds of injustice are weighted against you, how long must your optimism last?

The nexus of optimism and opportunity is rare where such injustice is rife. Perhaps they’re almost mutually exclusive?

With the opposite phenomena being elitism. 

Opportunity so vast that optimism is optional. 

Similarly with attitude. Spoilt. Spoilt with choice.

Yet, against all odds and albeit infrequently, opportunity does come. The helping hand graciously arrives, saving all in its path. Hail the opportunity!

Yet, optimism has been sustained so long and has waned so far that even opportunity seems a burden.

Lesson 31: Traim tasol. Try, try, try again. And again. And again...