The hope of change . . . Butterfly wings and morning glory seeds
Last January 30, right before the pandemic changed our world, I wrote a post entitled "Standing in the Burn Pile". It was, in part, about witnessing the inevitability of change. Little did I know that a year later the image of a burn pile would resonate even stronger than I could have imagined. I feel like I have been standing in a burn pile for a year. We have ALL been standing in a burn pile for a year. The words that stand out to me the most are the ones I used to describe change. The ". . . messy blackness that is part mystery, part hope, and part certainty."
Today, as I again try to schedule my covid-19 vaccination online and try to envision hope in the landscape, I am hanging on the "part certainty" aspect of change. It is similar to the way I used to remind my children when facing a dreaded upcoming event like a difficult test in school or a dentist appointment. I would reassure them that there was absolutely nothing they could do that would stop the difficult situation from being over. No matter what, there would be an end to it. It was inevitable. (And yes, I still coach myself this way for dentist appointments!)
This post is NOT intended to underplay the horrific circumstances and death that has taken place on a global scale during the pandemic. It is real. It is tragic. It is horrific. There is lasting pain! But this post is just a little way to try to encourage us to look forward to the "part hope" and "part certainty" of change.
" . . .I honor the things that have passed and the new things ready to emerge beneath my feet. I ground my feet in the wonderful messy blackness that is part mystery, part hope, and part certainty. " Certainty that things change, and hope that the change will be for the better very soon.