Squelching someone’s hope is just plain mean. Speaking as the squelched, it hurts and it is tough to brush yourself off and get back up. By no means do I think everyone should jump on my band wagon and believe as I do. It is just that somewhere in a little nook of my heart and soul, I wish people wouldn’t judge so harshly what they do not understand. They are quick to brush aside ideas that don’t fit into their thinking of normal.
Some of life’s big huge choices are not really choices at all. You are who you are. period. You can not change some beliefs and values. Oh, I wish I could change and go with the “in crowd”, man I wish that so much. I feel like a seventh grade girl during her first week of junior high school. I quietly observe, yet I am silently, SCREAMING, ” I just want to fit in”. I want to do whatever it takes to be with the hip and popular people. It looks easy and fun and happy. You don’t have to think for yourself. You just go along like fluffy, curly sheep and play follow the leader. Nothing painful or hurtful, you just mimic all the other sheep. No one gets hurt.
A friend told me a story once, her father in law was very ill. He however, decided he needed to exercise and drink this awful brown looking vegetable drink he called “chicken poop”. He felt that he was getting well. He had hope. Then one day a doctor in a white coat, told him that was goofy and silly nonsense. Exercising and drinking that horrid concoction was not going to make him better. The doctor took away the man’s hope. The doctor must feel great about himself, he was right. That was the day the hope died.
So here I am, a couple of days later, I am starting to pick myself up again. I am trying to find hope again. I am too beaten up and battered to search all sorts of web sites and seek all kinds of great sayings. I need a hope jar. Today, I started one. I haven’t decorated it yet. I want to collect & put slips of paper that reveal hope. On the days, when I just can’t go it alone, I want to reach in, like a girl pulling out the winning ticket number for a raffle prize. (One time, I won a raffle, fifth place. My prize? A Halloween kitchen towel and a bag of purple cotton candy. Still makes me smile. I was a winner!) It is a mason jar ” a jar of hope” and when I am in need, desperate need, I am going to pull a slip of paper that has a message of hope written on it. I have one in my jar. It is from a friend from Kindergarten. He wrote and told me “Hope is the dream of a soul awake”. You don’t really think you will find hope from a 50 something man who has a family of his own to worry about. A man who has a lovely wife and beautiful daughters and well, a life to live. He stopped for a moment and gave me a sliver of hope. It was my life line. I feel like he threw me a life-preserver and by golly, I am holding fast to that line. For this moment, it’s all I’ve got, and that is enough.
Hope springs eternal. I have that written on a slip of paper that I taped to my sewing machine today. I have been re-reading it. I am trying, very hard, trying to find my way back to the puddle of hope. I want to dance and jump in the puddle. I want to get splashed and wet and a chill from doing a jig in the water.
Color me hopeful.