Keeping Hope Alive

Lately I've noticed what a lack of hope there is in most people's every day life. How do I know this? Because of their reaction to me. I have been told more times than I even care to recall lately that I'll "harden up" eventually or that someone is worried that I will be pained by the harshness of reality. It's got me feeling misunderstood and thinking--- I can handle it! I may be sensitive, but I'm not afraid. It takes trust and hope to advocate for myself and others, but I'm up for the challenge. I started to take it personally, but now I'm widening the lens and realizing that some people are responding to my hopefulness, a quality that is sadly lacking in this mixed up world. I notice people sometimes raising an eyebrow at my smiles and offers to help. Isn't that what we're here for- to help? It's so easy to join the ranks of the apathetic Debbie Downers who can't let themselves be hopeful and trust that there is a better way. Why do I hope? Because I don't feel like there is another option. Something deep down inside my soul says "sing, help, dance, heal, and be free-- because we ARE!" We are so lucky to live our lives the way we choose- why wouldn't we choose to be kind and helpful to one another and believe in the goodness we all have in our hearts. Ok, this may sound super sappy, but I believe it!

Last weekend I engaged in a conversation about race with people at my job. It was a structured, intended dialogue about how race affects our lives personally. As you can imagine there were some major issues that came up, between participants and the facilitators. It was easier to disengage than actively participate because this stuff is hard- harder to talk and think about than almost anything. But the reward of sticking with it was so great-- just that feeling of knowing you're doing the right thing. When I returned from the weekend and faced that coworker who was fearing for my sensitive nature, I looked at her square in the face and said "I'm resilient." She cringed when I told her I cried during one man's story of having to clean racial epithets off a bathroom stall daily, but I told her I'm not ashamed or afraid to cry. Crying lets us know we are affected by the pain in the world. How can that be a bad thing?

We all decide where we want to put our energy. I'm choosing to direct mine in hope and trust that we can do better for ourselves and each other. No one can take that sense of hope and trust away from me.

Mandela said it best:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”