vanessa f. hurst
Hope. A funny four letter word that packs a punch greater than almost anything but love. Hope can lift you to the heights of trusting belief when you are skimming the bottoms of despair. Hope gets us up in the morning, sees us through our day, and kisses us to sleep at night.
Through out our day and into the next and the next, hope whispers, “It will be okay. I do not know how, but all will be well.”
What happens when hope is gone? How do we jumpstart the optimism? How do we find a way to believe that we will pass through the tumult and find a world righted on the other side?
i. do. not. know.
Yet, maybe, I do. When hope is barely a flicker, when i cannot feel its warmth or see its glimmer, silence beckons me to be in its presence. I don’t have to do anything but rest in the quiet of my mind. If I can step back into the silence, I clearly understand how to recharge hope…how to take one step and then another and another as I move past the chasm of hopeless and stand fully into the presence of hope.
For within the silence, that tiny whisper of inner wisdom nudges me. Perhaps it encourages me to walk or do something else to boost my endorphins. I might spend time with a friend or engage a stranger in a seemingly meaningless yet compassionate chatter. Or, maybe I simply rest in my despair and befriend it as I am objective, nonjudgmental, non-defensive, and peace filled.
When these do not boost me into a place of hope, well, on those days, I tell myself it is really okay not to have hope — I name what I am without, don’t stress over the lack, and just am. This very act of compassion often opens my heart to hope.
Hope — that funny little four letter word that comes with so many expectations and dreams and desires. When we have it, all is right in our world. When it is lost, an illusion filled reality crashes down upon us. In those moments, we need to act upon the words of Thomas Merton, “It would be good to open our eyes and see,” to navigate around the dark corners and dead ends that are filled with despair. We need to be like Tagore’s faith-filled bird singing because he knows the dawn is coming even if it is still dark.
I say to myself, “Maybe I can emulate that bird. Maybe I can open the eyes of my full body. Maybe then I will recognize hope is present in each wondrous thing, in each beauty filled moment. Maybe.”
Being a little bird in the dark with her eyes open, because, really, what do I or you have to lose?
Vanessa F. Hurst is a Mindful Coach, Compassion Consultant, Professional Speaker, and Author who interweaves her inner wisdom in all she touches.
Her books are A Constellation of Connections: Contemplative Relationships and Engaging Compassion Through Intent & Action.
More from Vanessa: www.intentandaction.com
No comments:
Post a Comment