At the start of a hope, desire mixes excitement and expectations along with dashes of doubt and fear to lift us from the limitations of what is into the safe space of imagination of the different that we have never been.
Those imagined places give us the freedom to see ourselves in the best light while being the main characters in stories where the weather always hits us and dragons keep us unbalanced with their noises.
But even though we have a long history of engaging with much-needed dreams as some sort of location to get to, over time, the vulnerability of yet to be realized hopes shape-shifts us back into a feeling of nothingness.
And so, we are unkind to ourselves by letting go of a little more of our beliefs in our possibilities as if the original inspiration had only been a borrowed feature and time was up on its participation on our pages.
But what hope is intended for isn’t necessarily the beacon that our gaze has been upon, and it would be a shame for us to surround our ideas of it with the same limitations that we have been dreaming of getting away from.
No matter what we do, unsuccessful hope will imprint on us, but within that profound silence is the magic of the nourishment of how it all went despite a failure to bloom.
This is me, and I know now that my greatest loss of hope will always exist within my home but that there is also joy in that suffering by having shown up in my perfectly imperfect sometime warrior ways without the promise of my dream being able to come true.
So today, with the possibilities of some future hope also failing, I take my weather with me because it connects me to all the spaces of my life, for they are who I am from happiness to grief and back again, sometimes all day long.
It takes imagination to hope, courage to fail and time to locate unseen wins in the losses so move onto the next one, because you deserve to find comfort in an open hope instead of being confined within the lines of just right.
Have the best day POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
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