From a classical Buddhist perspective, hope is deceptive and dangerous. The expectations associated with it can be disappointed. And then there is 'suffering' again, i.e. dissatisfaction in the mind. Hope is focused on the future and leaves the scope of the present. Attachment lies in the future, according to a simplified representation of the classification of the three mental poisons (in the past is anger, about what didn't work out, where disappointment happened, etc.; in the present is dullness, careless living, superficial existence in the old rut). So in the future lurks attachment, combined with the latent fear that this time, too, it won't work out with world peace, love for my partner, a fairer world, lasting inner contentment. I put my effort into this future instead of practising meditation now, practising compassion or mindfulness with a wise mind.hope obscures the good deed in the now, to put it bluntly.but is there any salvation for this hope from a Buddhist perspective? Can we perhaps learn from Western thinking and feelings? Philosophical-Marxist thinking turns hope for a better world into a fighting spirit. This 'principle of hope' (Ernst Bloch) uses the concrete utopia as a source of strength. The hunger for the fulfillment of basic needs brings us into a collective (!) action that can go as far as revolution. It is exciting, of course, that hunger is seen here in concrete terms, whereas in the Buddhist context, 'thirst' as a concept of attachment refers to the mind. This shift in meaning can offer differentiation and fits in with the idea of a social, socially active Buddhism. On the one hand, it is about developing the mind to overcome samsara; on the other hand, it is about working towards a 'better' samsara for the benefit of all those who are still on the wheel of life and have not yet become enlightened. Hope can then be related to concrete actions that offer the possibility of change according to samsaric experience. When I teach Dharma or make a text available, the hope is that firstly it can be read - if I have learned to read - and secondly that it stimulates reflection. Hope then does not float around in the shallow space of some external world, but has concrete points of reference for action. This is where karma comes into play: without a cause, there is no effect. Everything has a cause, which in turn is an effect. Now there are 'weak' causes, such as having a spontaneous thought; or 'stronger' causes, such as focusing thoughts in meditation for years. If I then practise seeing this 'weak' and 'strong' not as fixed concepts, but only as momentary verbal images, I move into the realm of humility and thus, in Buddhist terms, into trust. Thinking and feeling further, the powerful experience of trusting in one's own Buddha nature beckons, not in external people or uplifting stories or distant concepts of salvation and hope, and through this (re)path, hope suddenly has something to do with one's own power, with one's own pure nature, with already being fulfilled. This is of course individual at first, but individual fulfillment can never be thought of and experienced without the fulfillment of all sentient beings.