One of the most powerful questions ever offered me, in a dark time, was this one, “Where is hope for you now?”
I couldn’t find it in my work. I didn’t feel hopeful about the planet or our ability to heal it. I didn’t find hope in spirit or the universal energies, as in my despair I couldn’t seem to find an open channel to them. I was bereft and uncertain.
And then I remembered Thich Nhat Hanh’s teachings about washing dishes: If we can simply wash a dish with presence, with real attention and a sense of appreciation for the running water, and the soap, and the dish, and the food that had been on that dish, we might experience a tiny bit of relief. We might free our minds from the worry about the future and the tension of the past. We might be here, now.
I let the water run briefly, filling the sponge. I placed a drop of soap on the sponge. And picked up a dish. I brought to mind the vegetables that had warmed the plate. The smell of the sauteed onion and red pepper and green squash. I found myself thinking of the land these vegetables might have grown on, the farmers caring for that land and, from that thought, my father growing up on a farm in Northern Maine. He became present to me then, a gift of memory, and for a heartbeat, I felt less alone. In that respite, I entered the evening with a deeper breath and with that breath, a quieter mind and more hopeful mood.
Years later, research by Dan Tomasulo would confirm this choice: As we take even tiny actions in a positive direction, we open the door for hope.
So I ask, where is hope for you today?
And what tiny action might you take, just now, that provides a deeper breath, and an opening from there?
And … what hope might you seek in the next months, or the next decades of your life? What story might you want told on the day of your 90th birthday, and how might you live a bit more consciously into that hope?
I offer, as encouragement, a delightful reading of British journalist Caitlin Moran’s letter to her daughter, “Now I’m Dead, Here’s My Letter of Advice for You,” read by Caitlin herself.
Note, in particular, the wise advice about vampires, loving one’s body, and the directive at 4:56: “Always believe you can change the world even if it’s only a tiny bit.”
You see, we can borrow hope for a bit. We can ride the coattails of someone else’s hope, and see where that takes us. And I do believe, in our complex world, being reminded that the tiny bits matter is a useful thing, a very practical thing, and a hopeful thing.
Dr. Maria Sirois is a master teacher, facilitator and author. She is devoted to the science of well-being and the art of crafting a life and a work that embodies health, passion and success. As a positive psychologist (Psy.D.) and consultant, she focuses on the resilience of the human spirit particularly when under chronic stress, during significant transitions, and/or feeling the shock of wholesale change. Known for her wisdom, authenticity and humor, she brings a wealth of perspective from decades of study in the mind/body medicine and resilience disciplines. Maria is a longstanding faculty member at Wholebeing Institute and offers a number of courses, including the The Heroic Journey. She is the author of two books, A Short Course in Happiness After Loss (And Other Dark, Difficult Times) and Every Day Counts (Lessons in Love, Faith and Resilience from Children Facing Illness). Her home is in the Berkshire Mountains where she attempts on a daily basis to love her children well enough so that they too find a way to embrace the world with a grounded optimism and a sense of their own strengths. And on most days, she remembers to feed the cat. www.mariasirois.com
