Hope is a word we use easily -often too easily.

We say, “I hope it works out.”
“I hope things get better.”
“I hope someone fixes this.”

But much of what we call hope is actually wishful thinking. It has no roots in reality, no relationship with responsibility, and no capacity to sustain us when life becomes genuinely difficult.

In times of widespread disillusionment, fantasy-based hope crumbles.
What we need instead is hope that is grounded, spiritual, and real.

Fantasy says:

• “It will all just somehow work out.”
• “If I stay positive, I won’t have to feel what’s really happening.”
• “If I pray hard enough, I won’t have to change.”

This kind of “hope” is actually avoidance. It is a refusal to engage with the true conditions of our life or the world.

Real, grounded hope is something entirely different.

Real hope says:

• “Things are difficult, but goodness still exists.”
• “I have a role to play in what happens next.”
• “Even though I cannot see the full path, I can take the next aligned step.”

Hope, in its deepest sense, is not an emotion. It is a spiritual force. It is born from our relationship with goodness and our recognition that light still moves, even in the darkest times.

Disillusionment strips away our fantasies -about people, systems, institutions, and even about ourselves. It shows us very clearly what is not working, what is misaligned, and what was never true.

At first, this feels like the opposite of hope.

But if we stay present, disillusionment can actually purify our hope.

When illusions fall:

• We can see where we placed our trust in what was never aligned with truth.
• We can recognize where we demanded comfort instead of transformation.
• We can finally make contact with what is actually real, even if it is uncomfortable.

From that place, something remarkable can happen.

Once we accept that the illusion is gone, we can begin to sense a quiet thread of goodness that was always there, waiting beneath the surface. As we reorient toward that goodness, true hope begins to arise.

This hope is not based on denial. It is based on reality and on a deeper knowing that goodness is still possible.

Hope does not mean:

• “This will be easy.”
• “This will resolve quickly.”
• “I will get exactly what I want.”

Hope means:

• “The light is still here, even when I can’t see it clearly.”
• “I am willing to participate in the creation of something better.”
• “There is more possible than the current configuration of pain and confusion.”

Hope is sober. It is active.
It looks at the world with clear eyes and still chooses to say yes:

Yes to love.
Yes to goodness.
Yes to the possibility of change.

This kind of hope is deeply spiritual because it reflects the nature of the soul itself: resilient, creative, and oriented toward light.

Goodness and hope are intimately connected.

Where we find genuine goodness, hope arises naturally.
Where hope is alive, it tends to draw more goodness into manifestation.

You might think of it like this:

• Goodness is the living principle -what is true, life-giving, and aligned.
• Hope is the inner recognition that this goodness can still be embodied and expanded, even in difficult conditions.

When we lose sight of goodness, hope becomes impossible.
When we reconnect with goodness, hope becomes inevitable.

This is why, in times of disillusionment, our first task is not to “try to feel hopeful.”
Our first task is to ask: Where is goodness still present?
Even if it is small. Even if it is hidden. Even if it is just a seed.

If holding real hope feels difficult for you, it is not because you are weak. It is because we are living in a moment where:

• Systems are visibly crumbling
• Conflicts and divisions feel relentless
• Falsehood is amplified and monetized
• Many of the tools we’ve been given for spirituality focus only on comfort, not on discernment or responsibility

We are surrounded by reasons to give up.

We are also surrounded by subtle invitations to not give up.

To hold hope in times like these requires:

• A deeper level of discernment
• Practices that help you see through illusion
• Communities or lineages that ground you in truth rather than fantasy
• A willingness to keep choosing goodness, even when outcomes are uncertain

Hope becomes a discipline, not just a feeling.

Here are some ways to begin cultivating hope as a spiritual force rather than a fleeting mood:

1. Tell the Truth About Where You Are

Hope does not require you to lie to yourself.

Acknowledge clearly:

• What is not working
• Where you feel disappointed or betrayed
• Where something must change

Honesty is the ground from which real hope can rise.

2. Look for the Thread of Goodness

Ask:

• What is still good in me?
• Where do I see genuine goodness in the people around me?
• Where is goodness moving -quietly or boldly- in the world?

This doesn’t mean ignoring what is harmful. It means intentionally tracking what is life-giving so your field of vision includes more than just the breakdown.

3. Take One Aligned Action

Hope becomes real when it moves through your hands, voice, and choices.

Ask yourself:

• What is one action I can take today that aligns with goodness?
• How can I embody the kind of world I want to live in, even in a small way?

Send the message. Offer the kindness. Set the boundary. Make the repair. Begin the work.

4. Strengthen Your Relationship with the Sacred

Whatever your name is for the Divine -God, Source, Spirit, the Light- grounded hope is strengthened when you cultivate that relationship.

Not in a transactional way (“If I pray enough, everything will change”), but in a relational way:

• “I am not alone in this work.”
• “There is a wisdom larger than my current understanding.”
• “I am willing to listen and respond.”

In the end, hope is a choice you make again and again.

You may not feel hopeful every day. You don’t have to.
But you can still choose to act as someone who believes that goodness is worth serving.

You can say:

• Even in disillusionment, I will keep my heart oriented toward the light.
• Even in grief, I will ask what is possible now.
• Even in confusion, I will not abandon the work of goodness.

This is the kind of hope that can carry you through the dark -not by bypassing it, but by illuminating your path one step at a time.

If you are longing for this kind of grounded hope, you are not alone. Many of us are learning, together, how to move through disillusionment without abandoning our hearts.

You can explore this theme more deeply in the Roar of Love podcast, where I share teachings, stories, and tools for navigating this exact terrain -so that your hope can be rooted in reality, strengthened by love, and guided by wisdom.