Hope in the New Year

On January 1, I read a piece by Lauren Jackson in the New York Times’s Morning Column entitled “Your Hopes”

Quoting Jamil Zaki, the director of the Stanford Social Neuroscience Lab, Jackson said there are three things people need to cultivate hope:

They first need to be able to envision a better future, either personally or collectively. Second, they need the willpower or motivation to move toward that future. And third, they must be able to chart “a path from where they are to where they want to be.”

That’s all? Just those three things? Then why don’t we all have hope.

Do I have hope? I think so. I’ve been going through a rough spell in my life because my husband has been in the hospital for three weeks now. I don’t know how much of his lost abilities he will regain. But if I look at Zaki’s three elements of hope, I should be in good shape.

• I can foresee a better future for us—in fact, I can see several better futures, depending on how far his abilities improve with physical therapy. My challenge is not foreseeing a better future, but determining which future is most realistic.
• I am motivated to move toward the future. I want to find the best place for him to receive therapy. Meanwhile, I want to keep my life on track as well. I am highly motivated on both fronts.
• And I can chart a path forward. The problem is that there are several possible paths, so I don’t have a single path to pursue. All I can do is take it one day at a time, moving incrementally toward where I think we need to be.

Then I read another New York Times piece on hope, this one an essay by David DeSteno, “For 2026, There’s a Better Way to Be Hopeful” and also published on January 1. DeSteno talks about the lack of hope in today’s world, and he argues our modern conception of hope is flawed.

When people today hope for things, they are hoping for things they think they can achieve and can see a path to get it. (Zaki’s approach.) But DeSteno says

Fortunately, an alternative conception of hope exists, one that throughout history has helped ward off despair and motivate action even in the face of seemingly insurmountable challenges. It’s an idea the world’s spiritual traditions have championed for millenniums: Hope is a virtue to be practiced, not an aspiration to be managed.

DeSteno argues that this alternative view of hope frees us from the burden of thinking that it’s solely our responsibility to achieve what we hope for. We can still work toward our goals, but if we do not achieve them, it is not our failure, it is the fact of our human limitations. Religions from Catholicism to Judaism to Buddhism recognize this principle: We must move toward a better future, but we must also recognize that it is not humanly possible to achieve perfection.

I’ve been trying to reconcile these two articles in my mind. I don’t think they are inconsistent, but they require different mindsets. The first says to have a plan to work toward a desired goal and work that plan (which is my natural bent). The other says to recognize that I cannot be perfect (which I recognize, but don’t like to concede—control and perfectionism are ingrained, to my frequent chagrin).

Maybe I need to worry more about “the best for now” rather than trying to set our future paths for the rest of our lives, then when the situation changes, find “the best for then.” Hope continues, even when the goal changes.

What do you do to maintain your hope for the future?