I have all these words crashing around in my brain, but then I open up a new post and *poof* those thoughts run to the darkest corners. I can’t find them much less put them in any certain, creative order. Bear with me as I pour out a little bit of my soul, dear readers.
I know this post title is sort of maleficent, but if you think about it- really think about it– you’ll see it makes sense. When we’re in our deepest, darkest moments the choice to hope hurrrrrts. A lot. It’s so much more painful to choose optimism over that shrinking feeling; hope over despair. It’s harder to step over yourself, your crumpled mess lying on the floor, and walk in the direction of true growth. I know, I’ve been there; I’m there.
I can tell you how much it hurts. There are days I just want to stay in bed; nurse my wounds; remember them; feel them; tell people about them. Do you see these wounds?! They hurt so much! I hate them! When does that stop, though? When does one let go, learn, and get better? Sometimes, you have to let go of everything you’re feeling for the simple reason that it’s just too heavy.
They say life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react. So, imagine for a moment, you’re at the crossroads. You can stay where you are, or choose a different direction. The precise moment where you can change it all; it could be once-in-a-lifetime or once-per-day. Heck, it could be once-per-hour. That moment where you decide to react different than you have previously.
What would happen?
And, so, I leave a note to self as much as I leave a note to my readers: Try. Use that last bit of energy you have, though it feels inadequate, to hope a little more. It will hurt, I know. It will make you think you’ll never be able to catch your breath… but I have a feeling the aftertaste of hope will be much, much sweeter than we could have anticipated.
<3