Posts tagged ‘hope’

May 8th, 2013

Keep Hope In Your Pocket

{Etsy print by JCSpock}

{Etsy print by JCSpock}

I admit I spend too much time worrying about the things that don’t end up even happening in my life. I worry about wasting time, but much of it is spent obsessing over the illnesses I have and the opportunities I don’t have.

Last night, however, I dreamed about possibility, hope and miracles. In it, I was told that everything we think we know about life is just the surface of what’s true. We grieve and bemoan our situation, for example, because we think it’s permanent. We allow logic to override miracle. We’ve grown too accustomed to computers and smartphones that tell us what is true instead of figuring it out for ourselves. And the weather? Trust your forecaster or Siri instead of just popping your head out the window.

As a result, intuition falls to the wayside. Hope no longer exists unless we have evidence to prove it.

Because something seems impossible or improbable we give up. But the whole notion of faith and miracle is dreaming up the impossible. If so, what we believe can be true is delivered to us on a platter.

Sounds easy, but the real struggle is challenging our old and jaded minds. We have to fight the fear of being vulnerable, being wrong, being disappointed.

We knew this as children. Every thing we absorbed then was magical. Do you remember it? But we let the pain and suffering of growing up wound us. Some allow it to wound them permanently.

If we can strip away the negativity, the paranoia, the obsessive need to know in this moment, we might return to that place of innocence, hope and joy. Instead of searching intently for a way to rid of your current ailment, let’s spend a moment in prayer and acceptance for what is so that we may lay open a door to possibility that everything. is. okay.

You won’t get that from the internet, a friend, your spouse, a sibling, or even a doctor. When you sit quietly or stand in the middle of nature, however, you will know it.

Do what you can with what you have and then surrender it and let it be. Life will happen regardless of how much you try to control it. But within those seemingly confining boundaries, there is and always will be hope. Trust in it. Hope is the armor of courage best used in battle. It will carry you through sleepless nights of worry, distrust, and panic. It is the only thing besides love that will help you through the unknown. And when you’ve landed safely on the other side, remember it. Remember that there is always a ray of light upon you just as you look back toward the shadows. It matters not what you go through, but where you’re focusing.

December 7th, 2012

Friday’s Inspirational Quote: On Light and Dark

July 19th, 2012

Reframing Things

Every situation especially the despicable ones require a bit of readjusting if you want to get through it with as minimal damage as possible. There’s a) seeing the bright side b) seeing everything as half-empty.

Regardless of which one is true, know this: you’re life will always be happier if you embrace the first one.

It’s almost the weekend and I’m still settling my toes in the warm Hawaiian sand. But like the movie The Descendants suggests, no life is postcard perfect. Even people in Hawaii have problems too.

The choice, however is to continue facing the rainbows with the rain clouds on your back.

Sometimes reframing your perspective is the only way you can get through a difficult situation. Take exhibit A. Here’s a shimmery gold placemat, a $3 porcelain dish from Pier1 and a bowl of fresh tangerines. All pretty sweet.

But sometimes you have to change your perspective, zoom out of the situation you’re in, and open your eyes to the BIG picture. Only then you will you be able to grasp what you’re really grappling with. And thankfully, the situation often appears a lot less larger

than you imagined.

{by The Inspiring Bee}

Has reframing a situation ever helped you? How so?

June 19th, 2012

Being Okay With the Unknown

{flickr photo}

I guarantee our ancestors were better at it than we are. They didn’t have smart phones back then, or tablets, or digital notebooks. They looked to the stars for guidance and their hearts for hope. And when it got really bad, they sat on the earth, lifted their palms up to the sky and prayed for guidance.

I wish I had their faith and confidence. (I’m the type of girl who needs to check her iPad for the weather before deciding what to wear in the morning.)

With all our fancy gadgets, you’d think we’d be stronger, more courageous and adventurous. In some ways, yes. But surprisingly, it’s getting good with the not knowing in life that makes us strong.

The Bad Thing About Technology

I think technology has just given us a false sense of control. And we’ve gotten too comfortable in thinking we can know and control everything. So much so that when something hits us (an illness, a death, a loss), when something alters the way we perceived things previously, we’re shaken to our core. And that unsettling experience propels us from the false veil/shield we thought would prevent us from difficulty.

I don’t think we will ever get to a point where we enjoy the hardships, look forward to the pain or feel automatically grateful for it. But I think in learning that none of us really had control to begin with, we can let go just a little bit. We can stretch our arms into the unknown, feel the fear and be in awe of its power. We can remember that our lives are both greater and smaller than we make it. And instead of feeling anxious and overwhelmed by the enormity of that knowledge, we can remember that love, spirituality, hope, and faith always trumps fear…

{Read more on my Happy Haven column for Beliefnet Health.}

May 22nd, 2012

You Have Permission to Just Be

{flickr photo}

Like reptiles we shed our soft baby skins and soft, playful spirits when we leave childhood. We embrace a tougher skin and more brittle insides that we think come with adulthood.

“We’re grown-ups now,” we say to ourselves. That means no more lounging around, letting our souls dream, and watching the day roll on by the way we used to as kids.

We allow ourselves to harden the way flowers do when they’re on the their way to die. And we forget that life is about growing, not sinking into ourselves.

And why shouldn’t we?

Life gives us more than enough reason to. It takes away our loved ones, our dreams, our hope. And it does so in such an insidious, unexpected way, how can we not relinquish the playfulness and whimsy that characterized our youth, and grab onto what’s left: fear, discouragement, disappointment?

It is, but a choice.

{The rest of my post can be read on my Beliefnet Health column, “Happy Haven.”}

 

May 9th, 2012

A Different Way of Perceiving Loss

{flickr photo by The Djudju Beast}

Loss is one of those inevitable experiences in life we have to cope with. Hopefully we don’t have to deal with it until we’re older and more able to handle the grief. But in any case, it’s hard. Its impact devastating.

It’s difficult to deal with whether we’re dealing with the loss of a relationship, a job or a loved one (furry kids included). And one of the reasons why it’s so hard is that it reminds us about how short life is. Every loss is like another dying leading us to our own inevitable death.

Sorry to be so grim. But we are talking about death.

While coping is never easy, I’ve recently found a ray of light to help me deal with loss in a new way.

I realized that the being, the job, the opportunity that we feel we lost has been a gift. And when it’s ripped away from us, we forget that. I think we take for granted that life is short. Waking up each day feels like an expectation not a reason for gratitude. And we expect the same from those around us. We think that life will always unfold the way it has been and are shaken up when it’s suddenly changed.

It’s normal to feel angry, sad, and filled with despair when we lose something we love. But when we’re past the point of initial grieving, I think we owe it to ourselves and the people and things we lost to find the gift in their presence. It’s not only the empty space they leave which makes up the legacy of their life, but their entire life.

Whenever I feel like I’m falling into despair, I refocus my perspective. I remember that the time we have with people and the experiences we love are less important than the remaining impact they left on our hearts. I’d rather remember the gift than the anger. I’d rather hold onto their love than the loss.

And I think it’s important to focus on their purpose of being here instead of why they left. We will never know why something we love has to end. Trying to find the answer to that question can only pull us down a road toward more struggle and suffering. Instead, I choose to find answers to why they were here in the first place.

It’s not easy to deal with the sound of silence after something we loved was taken away. But I know that if we can continue to remember the love, hope is right around the corner…

 

April 30th, 2012

Getting Back Control of Your Life

{photo by The Inspiring Bee}

In life, there is no room for bench warmers. There is no tree with which to hide, no tunnel to escape from, no magic invisibility cloak to help you vanish into thin air.

Perhaps that’s why we lean towards books and movies of fantasy and fiction. When life gets hard, we can’t just disappear for a moment, retreat within and return when we’re strong again. So we watch wistfully wishing we could momentarily catch our breath.

When life gets hard and we’re weary from the fight, the desire to “sit this one out” is great. How do you keep going about your day, maintaining work, chores, your daily tasks when a huge surmounting issue is weighing heavily on your shoulders?

I’ve worn that heavy cape. I’ve felt the crushing pull of not knowing, where you have two choices and neither are ones you would choose. And in that fear, I know that there is only one thing that can help me get through it.

Dig a hole through that tunnel. Find a way to walk through the fear on your own terms. If illness, loss, or some other impending doom is on your way, don’t avoid it, or succumb to the grief the way we’d suffocate under a wave. But find a way to feel like you have control.

For me, this means writing. Only in the process of writing can I completely lose myself to the words. I can forget whatever fear I’m about to face. I can let go of worry. I can forget about the worst scenario. Surfing the internet won’t help. Talking to others may not help. Sometimes the only thing you can do is to let go into the thing you truly love and find joy in this moment.

If you’re in the process of facing yours fears and you’re sick with worry, I hope you will carve a space for your gentle soul. Find a place where you can cry, where you can feel the wind on your face, where you can hold yourself with love and light and remember that regardless of the darkest shadows that want to linger, weight on you and drain you, you can CHOOSE how you will live your life. It may be a small choice. It may be choosing to walk instead of drive or draw instead of write. But if we can find a way to take control of what we feel we have no control of, we will again find the strength and courage to keep going.