hope is a thing with feathers
I have been disappointed all day. The saint and I are feeling the crunch of time as it threatens to smoooosh us. We have to move by October 1, but as yet, we have not solidified a residence for ourselves. On Sunday, he and I went into Seattle and found the most perfect home. Location was stellar, the place was gorgeous and spacious, the backyard brimming with tomatoes, and the aesthetic was just completely suited to our taste. Unfortunately, we didn't get to it fast enough. If we had only arrived 1 hour earlier, we would currently be toasting to our fortuitous find.
But I've learned something about how I grieve...how it's changed in the last few years (along with everything else in my head). Before, I would have completely guarded myself with cynicism towards "getting my hopes up." I think the general idea behind this theory is that if you don't want it too much, then when it doesn't work out, the disappointment is less. Only it never worked. I was always disappointed whether or not I pinned my hopes on the outcome.
So these last few years, I've decided to hope. Hope against all ration and reason (withing reality, of course. I am still ME after all...analytical, rational etc)...hope despite the hidden pain it might bring to do so.
Am I so very disappointed today because I hoped so much? I don't think so. I am so very sad because I didn't get what I wanted. I will grieve it (banana splits help. limoncello cocktails help.) I will allow myself to be very blue; I will refuse to kick myself in the backside for hoping too much. What's so great about guarding oneself from disappointment anyway? It can, like every other emotion (shadowy or brilliant) bring incredible depth of soul, richness of thought, awareness of self.
In the end, I hope.
For discovery.
For fascination.
For myself.
For you.
For kindness.
For change.
For stillness.
For a flipping wondiferous house.
[ title taken from this poem ]
7 comments:
Candace:
here is my hope for you:
that beyond this sad resting spot there is a house that has been waiting patiently for the right moment to reveal itself.
And so it shall.
The thing is, you never know what NOT getting something you wanted has protected you from: terrible neighbors? A leaking roof?
Weevils and roaches in the kitchen?
I am reaching here, but my point is this:
everything in its proper time and place.
You will get your some kind of wonderful soon.
xoxoxox,
Allison
It makes me feel good, right down to my bones to hear you say this. I've been told that I get my hopes to high, I want too much, I try too hard to find the best in people...
I suppose the people that tell me such things are only worried since they're a witness to my crash when it doesn't work out.
But how can it be any other way? My very fiber is hoping beyond hope... Am I disappointed often? Yes, but do I remember all my disappointments? Hardly. All I remember is life, often serendipitously, working out to what seems like a perfect plan.
hope is always worth it.
i love this defiant, persistent courage. and don't you know, it goes before you: it knocks aside the houses with weevils; it forges a way, never gives up, seeks out the very best. can't wait to see photos of the splendid abode that waits for you. i'm hoping too.
I really liked this post. I have had so many "almost" moments in life, where it nearly worked out but didn't. I have had a four month string of these over this summer. Somehow, it's changing me for the good.
Wish you both luck. I'm obviously missing a lot of the story, but it'll work out. Maybe not the way you think it will, or the way you want it to. But it'll work.
Nothing wrong with being disappointed. I think it's just a problem when you stay disappointed, you know? As we get older, we somehow have to shrug things off. Or else just be sad our whole lives. I don't wanna do that.
Allison nailed it.
My experience of searches like this, especially those punctuated by frustrations and disappointments, is that what I seek is just around a corner. That's a cliche, I know, but the image, the 3-D gravitational sense, is just that.
Hope this is so for you and that you're approaching the corner even now!
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