That was yesterday. This morning we are still in complete darkness. I was insistently nudged out of bed by Sheba’s wet nose. Just as well. I was
wool weed gathering in bed, not sleeping nor tending my garden anyways. I was having a little bit of the moody blues and the simmering of a low grade depression.
That was what I thought – until I read Anne Lamott’s post. Then I realized I was just crazy and normal like everyone else at this time of year. No need to talk to the therapist about it. I read another post and it gave me a little hope that there is good in the world. I’ve been thinking about Christmas and gifting. How can I not? I’m not caught up with the masses and yet I am – in finding the perfect meaningful gift. I’ve found it in the last paragraph of Anne’s post.
“Emily Dickinson said that hope causes the Good to reveal itself. So bring it on. When I bring people hope–cups of tea, poetry and art supplies–then I’m holding hope in my hands, but I can only receive it by giving it away, to you, and to me; to us. Here, have some; it’s on me. Just don’t give up before you get the miracle.”
What I know for sure today, as in all days, is that I always have hope. I remember saying in therapy a long time ago that I am never without hope according to the questionnaire I had to fill. I was wondering why I was there. Did I wandered into the wrong place?
I am finding myself in the same place again. What I know for sure is, it is good to have hope. And it is good to have help, a little guidance, small nudges in the right direction when I have wandered off the path. I am gifting myself for the coming year. I’m preparing myself so that I will be opened to receive more of life. I want to feel more joy and less anger. I want more clarity to the yes(s) and no(s) I will be uttering. I want to be saying in December 2015, It was a very good year. I did the best I could.