Monday Mindset
The Emergence of Hope
Hello friend, and happy start to a new week.
On my walk this morning, I was surprised to find little animal activity. The skies were overcast, the wind blowing steadily from the west, and Bo sniffed along the path as he normally does. While I spotted several robins looking for food, the lack of squirrels and rabbits — and only three ducks on a pond that normally holds hoards of them — made me curious. Do animals like to settle in and take it slow on gray days, too? Is it a biological instinct to want to linger in a cozy nest when the sun hides and the wind whips?
Yeah, these are my Monday morning thoughts. Before we drop into this week’s focus, I’m curious — what have you been thinking about this morning? Have you given yourself any time to wonder without quickly moving into get-it-done mode? No shame if you have been busy at work. There is life to be lived, after all. I hope you will give yourself some time today to take a break from the constant need to perform, produce, and ideate so that you can wander and wonder. Maybe you could afford a few minutes at lunchtime or before bed. Just a thought (okay, and yes, a little nudge toward presence and mindfulness, sure).
Now, onto this week’s focus, another Spring Invitation:
The Emergence of Hope
“Where flowers bloom, so does hope.”
— Lady Bird Johnson
The poet Emily Dickinson famously wrote, “Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul. If hope is like a bird, perching in our inner world and singing the tune without words, this season was made for leaning in to listen a little closer. Each morning, she calls, and in the evening, her song settles us.
If thinking of hope in poetic terms hurts your brain rather than inspires you, let’s look at it a different way. Hope, simply put, is grounds for believing that something good may happen. It can also be a feeling of expectation and desire for something specific (thanks, Oxford dictionary, for this definition).
Hope as a grounds for expectation is beautiful. When we witness new life in the natural world around us, we remember that all is not lost. The barrenness of winter did not leave us destitute. There is rebirth happening. Why can it also not be true of our desires, our energy, our hope?
One of the many invitations of springtime is the promise of new beginnings. The reemergence of plants, flowers, and animals coming out of hibernation reminds us that we, too, can begin again. No matter what has happened before, the chance for a fresh start is here—in this moment.
Hope is not something we need to manage or control. It hints at possibility. It breathes fresh wind into the sails of our souls, moving us in the direction of what is blossoming to life.
Where do you feel your heart opening toward what feels light, life-giving, or good? This, my dear friend, is a movement toward hope. The tender light, the press of possibility inching toward excitement—that is what it feels like to me. How would you describe it?
As we come out of time mostly spent indoors and engage with the world again, there is much activity. Spring is a time of planning, but it is also a natural time of action. What if you allowed yourself to intuitively move toward hopeful action? What would that look like?
The emergence of hope is in each ray of sunshine, every fragrant flower. It is in birdsong, in kindness among strangers, and in the return of longer days. It is in our communities, even if we have to look closer to find it. Its presence is sure. Lean in, look closely, and you will see signs of her. Just as we witness the slow budding of leaves on branches, we can witness her gradual appearance in the details of our lives.
Do you feel a softening (or opening) in your mind, heart, or life in a specific area?
What is emerging around you that feels important to engage with (that feels life-giving rather than energy-draining in this specific season)?
My specific hope will be different than yours, and that’s okay. You get to hold your own values, chart your course, and embrace what is important for you (though, please, do find community around this).
Your practice for this week is to get curious around what you want to do as opposed to what you feel like you should be doing in this season. Honor what feels true, grounded in goodness, and hopeful.
Note: this does not mean everything in your life (including responsibilities, work, etc.) will feel good and hopeful. The practice is to honor the bits that do feel that way so that you can nourish yourself amidst the other demands of life. You need soul-refreshing activities (and sometimes non-activities).
So, lean into the hope emerging in your life and in your heart, and watch as it grows.
I’d love to hear from you! What does this bring up for you? Do you think it’s silly? Redundant? Helpful? There are no right answers, only what is true for you.
Sending you so much grace and love today and every day, my friend.
Sara