Hope

Perhaps hope is the smaller cousin of trust. In the etymological history of hope its roots were more closely related to trust and faith. Nowadays we tend to think of it as desire. I hope this happens. As if we are almost already aware of the fact that it likely will not. It is a timid sort of hope, a hope that has been stretched out and removed from its true seat of power. A weak prayer on the lips of a woman who is resigned to the way things already are. It has no backbone.

But what did it used to mean to hope?

In my own life, I have been noticing a difference between when I am resigned to something, and when I surrender to it. Resignation leads me down an endless rabbit hole of self destructive tendencies because ultimately, it is the belief that I am alone, that I have to figure each and every single thing out for myself. And that is unconscionably overwhelming.

But when I surrender to my feelings, my process, my innate connection to everything else, to god/dess then I am no longer alone. I have the support of multitudes upon multitudes cheering me on and blessing my way. Actively hoping for my success. Trusting in its inevitability. This kind of hope has so much power infused within it because it is in alignment with the rest of creation. No longer do You have to hack it alone.

There are two sides to hope,

Nourish the side that leads you towards wholeness.

Oh woman,

Sighing in the tight enclosure of resignation

Fitted like a corset

Squeezing you into ancestral patterns of too tight archetypes

Telling tales of

Too much

Not enough

Shoulds and shouldn’t haves

Ah woman!

Singing in the sunlight of surrender

Cocooning you in your own vibrant luminosity

As you pour your visceral love out into the world

Etching your own path onto the face of god

With tears

With sweat

with the blood that flows from beyond the veil

What subtle knife creates such sharp contrast?

Between the hope of resignation

And the hope of surrender?

Choice.