L’espoir (Hope)

Four people in the last four days… Four people who have a different – yet very important – role in my life… A friend who is “faraway, so close”. A doctor who is much more than a doctor, a life coach, an inspiring role model, a rebellious spirit. A therapist who is the voice of reason, but not cold, calculated reason; one who takes emotions, passion always into account; one who has a perspective on life wide enough to encompass both reality and human weakness (or shall I say, mimicking Malraux, “la condition humaine”?). And yet another doctor, actually a non-practicing psychologist who has guided me through the most difficult times, making the dark winter days brighter with a phone call made in the wee hours of the morning from an “unknown number”.

They all said the same things. They all said good things. Uplifting. Inspiring. Reminding me of who I am. Could it be a coincidence?

Could it be a coincidence that the same Malraux has also written a novel called L’Espoir (1937; translated into English as Man’s Hope the following year) – that is “Umut”?

“Il n’y a pas cinquante manières de combattre, il n’y en a qu’une, c’est d’être vainqueur. Ni la révolution ni la guerre ne consistent à se plaire à soi-même.

(There are not fifty ways of fighting, there is only one, and that is to win. Neither revolution nor war consists in doing what one pleases.)

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