Awhile back I was reading one of the positive sites I enjoy, and that day it was highlighting a quote from Joseph Kim. 

"Hope is personal. Hope is something that no one can give to you. You have to choose to believe in hope. You have to make it yourself."

The site author went on to ask readers, "What would it take to enlarge your own hope right now?"

That day, as I looked at those words, I felt a sinking sensation in my soul.  Because I realized that  I was struggling.  I realized I wasn't feeling very positive.   I work so hard at not allowing my outlook to be dimmed by circumstances over which I have no control. Often it's an effortless thing for me, part of who I am I guess, to see the bright side, or realize that in the end all will be well. My grandmother  used a saying to express the relative uselessness of worry, "It will never be seen from a galloping horse."

So it's especially frustrating for me to be in a place, personally, where the pieces of my life truly are perched atop a precipice. It's clear it's all about to topple over the edge, but whether I'm able to fly or end up dashed against the rocks at the bottom is all in the hands of someone else. 

And that's hard to take. It's hard to see the bright side, it's hard to keep on hoping for the best, and yet that's really all I have right now. If the worst happens I'll get through it, I'm resilient that way. But to be so powerless over such potential calamity is wearing me down, mentally, physically, psychologically. 

I will keep hope alive, and right now, I don't know that my hope could possibly be enlarged, there is nothing else BUT hope.  My hope is a massive thing in the face of dire circumstances, with no control of the outcome. But I DO choose to hope, I DON'T give up, and it IS personal. Maybe I'll find that while I can't fly, the tide has rolled in so I can land softly in the water. Maybe I'll find that hope floats.

How big is YOUR hope?

  

If You Are Unhappy

Once upon a time, there was a nonconforming sparrow who decided not to fly south for the winter.

However, soon the weather turned so cold that he reluctantly started to fly south.  In a short time, ice began to form on his wings and he fell to earth in a barnyard, frozen.  A cow passed by and crapped on the little sparrow.  The sparrow thought it was the end.  But the manure warmed him and defrosted his wings.  Warm and happy, able to breathe, he started to sing.

Just then a large cat came by, and hearing the chirping, investigated the sounds.  The cat cleared away the manure, found the chirping bird, and promptly ate him.

The moral of the story:

Everyone who shits on you is not necessarily your enemy.

Everyone who gets you out of the shit is not necessarily your friend.

And, if you're warm and happy in a pile of shit, keep your mouth shut.

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Greetings and cheer to all, I think of you often, W/we keep up with your writings (I must confess that "W" is better at that than "w" is, but He keeps me informed for the most part.)  In time I may find myself more drawn to sharing in this space again, I hope that is true.  But in the meantime, do not think any of you have been forgotten!

Peace
Tapestry

Just had to share. :)
I'm not here much, but am still around, hope all is well with you and yours.