Prior to my paradigm shift I had hope. Hope was what I coveted during the turbulent years after the void. Hope is what I pulled out of my pocket to remind myself that my life would change for the better.
Hope is an emotional crutch used when we feel that our life is not our own. Burdened by helplessness, hope is the intermediary, the ambiguity created within this reality anchored in fate.
Optimism. When life is regarded as a dream, will I still need hope? The knowing that I am the dreamer perceiving that which I create, hope is about as useful as fear.
Of those simple daily tasks, I do not hope nor fear preparing a meal or walking across the room. I accomplish these tasks without much effort. I am also an accomplished dreamer. Now that I have realized the true nature of this shared reality, this realization allows me to cast aside the crutch of hope and embrace the knowing of this reality bound by idealism.