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1. Why spring is the season of hope

By Anthony Scioli


Spring and hope are intertwined in the mind, body, and soul. In spring, nature conspires with biology and psychology to spark the basic needs that underlie hope: attachment, mastery, survival, and spirituality. It is true that hope doesn’t melt away in the summer; it isn’t rendered fallow in autumn nor does it perish in the deep freeze of winter. But none of these other seasons can match the bounty of hope that greets us in the spring. My reflections on hope and the spring season are cast in terms of metaphors.

Mind Metaphors

More than three decades ago, linguist George Lakoff and philosopher Mark Johnson demonstrated how metaphors can reveal the inner structure of private feelings. For example, when we refer to “high hopes,” we are revealing something about the phenomenology of the hope experience, that it is “buoyant,” “uplifting,” even “energizing.”

Metaphors of Hope

My research as well as that of psychologists Shlomo Breznitz and James Averill has identified a number of hope metaphors. Below are the four most striking examples.

Light and Heat

Hope has been compared to light and heat. Karl Menninger called hope the “indispensable flame” of mental health. English writer Martin F. Tupper wrote, “though the breath of disappointment should chill the sanguine heart, speedily it glows again, warmed by the live embers of hope.”

Spring also brings added light and heat, sometimes so suddenly that we speak of a virtual “spring fever.” The first day of spring marks the vernal equinox, a balance of daylight and darkness. In the Northern Hemisphere this amounts to an average increase of three hours of light since the winter solstice, roughly a 20% gain. With increased light come a host of direct and indirect effects that improve mood and engender hope. Most directly, increased serotonin is produced. Serotonin is a major excitatory neurotransmitter in the nervous system, and the target of many antidepressant drugs. Among the indirect effects of spring on mood are increased exercise, and the physically related but psychologically distinct activities of gardening and farming.

Like spring, hope is also a 50-50 proposition. If our odds of achieving a particular outcome fall to less than fifty percent, we tend towards “despair.” If we are more than fifty percent certain of an outcome, we become “optimistic.” When psychologist James Averill and his colleagues surveyed individuals about their chances of realizing various hopes, the average response was fifty percent. For this reason, I believe that some kind of faith, not necessarily the religious type, but something essentially “spiritual,” must be present to ground our hopes.

Valley Green Bridge on the Wissahickon, Philadelphia, Pa. Detroit Publishing Company postcards. Source: NYPL.

A Bridge

Hope has been likened to a bridge that can actively transport the individual from darkness to light, from entrapment to liberation, from evil to salvation. 0 Comments on Why spring is the season of hope as of 1/1/1900

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2. Where Is Your Haven?






Where is your escape from the real world? Your shelter? Your retreat? Your piece of heaven? Your personal haven?

I know where my wife’s haven is? It actually has two addresses. One is in Orlando Florida, and the other is Oak Island, North Carolina. She loves Disney World. Marilyn feels like a little kid there, full of wonder and excitement for all that’s there—from the colorful characters to the fireworks that light up the sky at night. That’s her idea of a vacation, or the real world at home where the laundry gathers and bills mount. She even likes to take me with her on excursions to Disney. Even though Tigger is rather hyperactive, I don’t mind taking a picture with Tigger and my happy wife.
If she can’t be at Disney World, then the next best place is Oak Island. The first time we stayed at Oak Island it was at a “cottage” that was right on the ocean. The land itself had to be worth over a million dollars. We felt “rich” staying there. We had lots of room, sunlight, and ocean. Our five grandkids visited us for part of our stay. We all had a grand time. We treasured our time together and took lots of photos, but I will spare you the family album. But the time certainly flew by at the sea.

Where’s my haven? My haven has a number of different addresses—performing poetry for kids at schools and libraries; golfing on my favorite golf course; biking on my road bike along the Erie Canal; eating my bluffin at Hess Express; sitting in my den near the gas stove; writing in my den while time flies; being part of a lively writing workshop or book festival; reclining on my recliner; watching a fascinating TV drama; digging into a slippery bucket of salty popcorn at Tinseltown, and watching events unfold on the big screen.
Where was Charles Dickens’ haven? (I thought you would never ask.) It was in Cowsville. I kid you not. He admitted that “Cows are my passion. What I have ever sighed for has been to retreat to a Swiss farm, and live entirely surrounded by cows and china.”

So where is your haven beyond daily chores and worries? Please tell my readers in the comment space. I sure would like to know. I'll leave you with a photo of our first beach house that we stayed at...




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