Where ever hope comes from, it's real

I’ve never been one to believe in the prognosticating powers of astrology, but for some reason, I still read my horoscope every day. If it’s bad news, I simply reject it out of hand, scoffing at the absurdity of it all — but if it’s good news, or has something pleasant to predict, I find myself thinking, "Hmm, maybe today it’ll actually come true."

Does this make me naive and nonsensically dense, or merely human? After all, the power of hope is an amazing thing. If we didn’t believe we could, we would never bother to try.

Why else even endeavor to go to the moon? Or sail across the Atlantic on tiny, teetering ships? Or make your way to Broadway, or Hollywood, or the Dali Lama in Tibet, when the odds are never in your favor?

Apparently we need to believe in magic even though we know it’s all just whimsy and illusion.

So when my horoscope informs me that today is a good day to expect a call from a long lost friend, every time the phone rings, I think it might be them.

If the fortune in my Chinese cookie reads, “Do not surrender, your dream is right around the corner,” I go to ridiculous lengths to keep putting my groundbreaking children’s television show proposal into the hands of every possible financier I can find.

Positive thinking is creative thinking, and creative thinking is at the root of all good things. It’s why we build cities, invent new machines, and attempt to cure diseases.

It’s why we listen to music, write poems and plays, and carve beautiful statues out of nothing but solid rock.

It’s also why we keep holding elections and waiting for hatred to end. We have to constantly believe in an improved and brighter tomorrow or we might as well just give up and die.

A rabbit’s foot is lucky. A rainbow is an omen. A bright sunny day is a reason to be happy.

And a shooting star is never just cosmic dust, it’s a sign of something wonderful about to happen in the world.

Call it superstition, call it spirituality, call it silliness, stupidity, or ridiculous romantic rubbish — it is what it is, and it resides somewhere in most of us.

I know it resides in me, even though I also know there’s no practical reason for it. It holds no logic, it makes no sense, and it tends to end up causing my heart to break a lot more often than I’d like to admit.

But no matter how bad things seem, or how helpless and despondent I feel, every tomorrow brings another horoscope to read, and something truly grand to look forward to.

Maybe that’s why those who believe in God put so much faith in prayer — and why those who don’t are constantly hoping they’re wrong.

Dear Libra: Today could be your special day, when all your dreams come true...

I’m still hoping. I’m always still hoping.

Wilkie’s column runs every Wednesday. He lives in Jeffersonton.