Hope.

The other day, for the first time that I can remember, I found myself instantly without it.

I felt as if I was in a dark room without walls, ceiling or floor… Searching. Grasping for anything - anything at all, but without knowing where to look. The first glimpse I found, I thought, “That’s stupid. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s too insignificant.” But at least it was something to hold on to. It may not have been much, but it was the shape - the memory of something. Turning it over in my mind like a pebble in my hand. It reminded me of hunting for morel mushrooms back home. Each time, I can search the forest floor finding nothing until I think I’ll go mad from squinting. Not until I finally, and usually accidentally, stumble upon that first awkward shape will the others slowly begin to emerge.

This morning, I remembered a book that I had packed away weeks ago. It was written and given to me by Erik’s father, Howard Friend… on the inside cover, he wrote:
“Alisha -
You of engaging smile and dancing eyes, of open heart and loving presence; peace, joy and hope… Especially hope… To you.”
I sobbed. What a blessing! With a deep breath, I opened the book a second time to a dog-eared portion titled, “What Hope Is Not.”

“Hope is not a feeling…”
I am finding this to be true. I cannot, by any stretch of the imagination, say that I am happy. In fact, I find myself continuously filled with a deep and utter sadness. But within that sadness, I have found things to be grateful for. While the hope I am currently finding may be little and far between, at least it is some light in the darkness. As sad, bruised, guilty, or hurt as I may feel, it gives me the courage to move forward.

“Hope does not depend on outcomes at all… Hope is not the conviction that things will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.”
While I may be attempting to move forward, I do not have the slightest idea where. I do not have a specific outcome in mind. I am simply choosing to trust that love, understanding, and forgiveness will play the larger role in the days, months, and years ahead.

I expect these final two months in Mexico to be a difficult journey for me personally, but I am slowly learning to place each foot forward with a little more care.


Do me a favor… Swine flu be damned. Go and give someone a hug today. I don’t care if you already did. Do it again… today, tomorrow, and always.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DjKnHAKtYFA

---

---