Today I am Writing: On Hope

My friend who looks for the calm behind my storm listens deep and says,

"Slow it down Lauren, slow it down."

Slow it down, he always says.

So today I sit in my office with my full whirlwind on, and I take the bagel I purchased on my way in and I eat it. Slow. I taste the jalapeno, the crust of the cheddar, the particular thread of the held together bread.

I don't think. Just taste.

I read the book that applies not at all to the questions I have (the whirlwind ones in which the pressure bulges: change the world!). It's the reflective book, the poet one. I sit in the words, let them rest in my soul spots, slow.

I don't think. I just rest.

I slow it, way the heck down.

And I find answers, blooming there.

The poet talks of hope, that "the whole of history is about hopes being sustained, lost, renewed," that "with new hopes come new theories.*" Across the hallway I listen to the group gathered to talk, their hopes being aimed toward birthing into light. "I'm in academia," I think, "I'm an artist," I think; "the cycle of birthing new theories, new hope..it's what we're doing doing, always doing..."

This helps me. Let go. Slow down. Move into the Light. Trust. (Breathe.) Join the lilting throng.

*Hold Everything Dear, John Berger, p. 39