There's chaos, racial prejudice, economic upheaval, not to speak of political and religious turmoil, all around. Picture this - the shocking civil unrest in Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Indonesia, among others, aside from the most recent, astounding Gen Z-initiated 'perestroika' in Nepal. When one thinks of the theory of chaos, one can't help but formulate the 'butterfly effect' and its classy upshot - it is only from the peaks of disorder that one can anticipate harmony, as also hope.

Hope carries us through the worst moments of crises. Hope wells up, as though from some deep reservoir, at times when a cruel and unbearable world seems to have robbed us of every motivation to go on living. As Desmond Tutu, the South African theologian, articulated, 'Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.'

The resolution of hope extends beyond simply extinguishing suffering. It is an active principle. It sustains belief. By offering us the dreams and visions that guide us through the present, hope gives us the power to project alternative realities. It permits us to insist that the world can be transformed - for a higher purpose.

As Vaclav Havel, the Czech statesman and author, put it, 'Hope is the orientation of the spirit, an orientation of the heart; it transcends the world that is immediately experienced and anchored somewhere beyond its horizons.' Havel reckoned that hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but rather the certainty that something makes sense regardless of how it turns out. The more adverse the circumstances for hope, the deeper our hope is. This gives us the desire to live and experiment continually with reality.

When Ernst Bloch, the German philosopher, memorably described the 'hope' phenomenon, in his book, 'The Principle of Hope,' it represented the triumph of constructive imagination over existential anxieties and 'machinations of fear.' Bloch underlined the fact that hope is not escape; it is a mandate for us to look in the world itself for what can help the world. He added, 'Nobody has ever lived without daydreams, but it is a question of knowing them deeper and deeper and in this way keeping them trained unerringly, also usefully, on what is right.' This translates to nurturing our daydreams and letting them grow fuller, since we would, in so doing, enrich the sober gaze of our everyday lives and not clog ourselves with meaningless detail, but clarify our vision with the range and plenitude of life.

Philosophy is right to contend that hope is not a simple emotion confined to the individual self - it becomes meaningful only when it expresses a long-range goal that encompasses the fortunes of all humanity. Hope characterises the will to live, to love, and, most importantly, to thrive. In short, it is a refusal to give up on the best in people, a refusal to deny the possibility of one's own evolution and that of the people one loves. Hope allows us to explore the relationship between the envisioned and the possible; it allows us to project ourselves creatively into the world.

As a first step towards the positive exercise of hope, it is important for all of us to make our goals a part of a larger and more inclusive project. Remember: when we restrict ourselves to narrow goals, we will severely limit our growth. A long-range goal always makes for a 'win-win' situation. It has something positive to offer for everyone without the self gaining at the expense of others. It is the reaffirmation of our faith in the ability to live in harmony with ourselves, with one another and with the universe.

The paradox today is the free-market economy, as also other forms, have made life much more comfortable for many of us and opened up choices that did not seem to exist before. This sounds great, but it does not explain why we are bamboozled by the frenzied world we have created for ourselves. Our computers keep us occupied, and while we soar through cyberspace, burglar alarms and insurance papers mind our homes. Kids take refuge in the relative comfort of their surrogate mother, the idiot box. It's a new world out there, really - a world of transient community, or transient relationships.

'We are,' as Charles Handy, the Irish author and philosopher, observed in his perceptive book, 'The Hungry Spirit,' confused by the consequences of capitalism, whose contribution to our well-being cannot be questioned, but which divides rich from poor, consumes so much of the energies of those who work in it, and does not, it seems, always lead to a more contented world. 'I know of no better economic system. Nevertheless, the new fashion of turning everything into a business, even our own lives, doesn't seem to be the answer.'

We are confused and hungry for something other than the excitement offered by the hunt for wealth, through corruption, or other vile means, viz., power and greed, as institutionalised by our fancies. When we dispassionately re-examine the role of work in our lives, we discover what we were truly meant to do and to be.

This is a clarion call that asks us to find purpose in the journey we take, rather than focusing on the profit motive alone, to better ourselves and improve our work, while also contributing towards sustaining a decent society. To achieve the right balance in a world that has gone increasingly mad, we have to place less significance on job titles and career success. We must also not exclude family, friends, and others, to become a complete person. In other words, all of us have to search for our higher self - one that represents our true destiny, or symbolises what we can become when we don't allow designations, status, money, and social pressures get in the way.