Hope – Chasing Stars

Hope – Chasing Stars

When I was younger, my Dad would take my hand to show me the Orion star, the most prominent and brightest of the winter constellation.  He wanted me to share in his awe of the universe, yet I was a preteen. It didn’t seem pertinent at the time.  

And yet, today the stars hold hope in my mind.  I look up at the sky and feel the strength that anything is possible with hope.

Hope destroys the weakened spirit, elevates the burdened soul, and promises a future.

So, I smile at the memory.  Have I memorized the constellations at my Dad’s wishes?  No. But I have adopted appreciation for the spectacular light show and the power of the universe to drown out the darkness.

AND, I still feel his hand holding mine coaxing me to look above for astronomical support.

This is a short post, to let you know I am still chasing stars.

© Erika K Rothwell

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Arms of Hope – Therapy

Arms of Hope – Therapy

Hope is my therapy.  Where else can such a profound sense of acceptance be felt?  It exists for all of us, gentle support that anchors our souls.  A belief and expectation of something good.

Two blue jays visited today on a branch outside my window as if to remind me of a universal smile of goodness.   A pureness that radiates from nature all around me, a perfected treasure gifted to me to view daily if I slow down enough to do so.  If I delete one “o” what remains in the word is the strength I put my hope in.  For it is in recognizing that power and glory that I accept my own goodness.  

My initial inability to rebound and cope seamlessly with loss pours life into these words.  They exist only because I still have hope.  Hope in a future, not without pain but with a gift.  The gift of believing each day, itself, is a gift. 

We wake naively without any anticipation of who we could lose in a split second, an occurrence taking only .00001157 of the entire day, changing the course of life for thousands of others. That one second does not define the life of the lost, rather it defines the implication that even a second of each day matters.

That particular second changed everything for me and many others this past week.  Except Hope did not change.  Hope remained a constant.  Life goes on because of Hope.  Hope that all happens eventually for good.  Even if the temptation is to sink low into an abyss of confusion, the universe reminds us that all is good with it and invites us to put our hope in the power harnessed within.

Strong arms of healing wrap around me gently, reminding me that my pain of loss needs hope now more than ever.

©Erika K Rothwell

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My Hope on Sunday

My Hope on Sunday

I dream of a world where judgment is replaced with understanding and compassion.  A world where opinions are stated with warmth and withheld when generated from self-promoting agendas.

Each individual contribution in this world is available from the life-giving spirit given equally to all of us.  The belief systems that grow within each unique heart is as personal as its owner’s reflection in the mirror.  One individual does not have the answer for another.  Grace has the only answer we all need.

When one voice emphatically reprimands another with the weapon of self-righteousness,  a pretension of a special relationship with the all-knowing and a misguided belief that truth is shared only with them, they partake in a foolish fantasy.

My fellow writers, this week, I read your commenters’ distasteful judgment with sadness.  Fending off wolves of merciless evangelism is no feat for the sensitive of nature.  And although I wish them grace as well, I swallow my own righteous indignation at their misplaced words.

Keep writing!

©Erika K Rothwell

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Hope in Harmony

Hope in Harmony

After a cleansing rain, the sun sparkles in water drops on blades of grass capturing a reflective thought.  The well-balanced cycle in nature reminds me of a consistent and harmonious dance of life.  

Often we aspire to lead with our steps; however, think of the possibilities if we chose to follow the lead of nature more often.  Discovering the tempo and the necessary footing of the day’s activities with a “go with the flow” attitude rather than a white knuckle grip of control as we force events deepens our opportunities for inspiration.

Take a moment to recognize how you are feeling right now.  Are your shoulders tense?  Are you taking short breaths?  Does the heaviness of the to-do list staring at you or incessant thoughts spinning in your brain suffocate your joy?

Look out your window.  What do you see?  Notice the harmony in the flow of life.  The breeze gently moves the trees.  The squirrel scampers along the fence line with perfect balance.  The sun warms the ground as the daffodils poke out cheerfully.  Let it lead you to a place of appreciation where you can slow your breath to match the gentle breeze and allow your thoughts to float lightly like the clouds above.  

Awakened to a new relaxed state of mind, you can make sense of the tasks ahead. 

Following the pattern and harmony of nature, we discover our true natures.  Speaking our truths like the flowers of the field, showing our colors, helps us dance in the wind. There is no judgment in harmony.  The existence is borderless and overlapping.  We find our balance and deepest roots in nature.  

When we fight against the waves, rather than allow them to carry us forward riding the power of the force and flow, we fight a helpless fight that may eventually knock us down to our knees, possibly even forcing us to swallow the salt water from our own tears.

Harnessing the power of the wind creates energy.  Working against such power slows and wears us down.  How much better to invite this energy to infuse our dreams rather than work against it and slowly drain our strength.  

Support is available physically, emotionally and spiritually for us. If we acquiesce and release our need for control, we accept what is and thus choose to follow the path of harmony.  Hope exists in harmony.

Working as an instrument of nature, we find strength knowing we are part of the flow of inspiration. Our creative work provides the connection as we complete the cycle.

© Erika K Rothwell

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Sea of Hope

Sea of Hope

As the waves crashed against the shore, the sea reminded me to focus on recovery as I listened to a melodious tune of “just be”.  I breathed in the rhythm of the tide as I was lulled into a slumberous state, embracing the unusual space between me and an incessant drive to accomplish a myriad of things within the time constraint of one indeterminate life span.

A week of revival in an exotic location and absence from the work of writing restored my soul.  Focusing on the movement of my thoughts, rather than the thoughts themselves, reignited my desire to bring life to a blank page.

I learned we cannot always dictate the unexpected twists and turns along the path of life but we can learn to appreciate the tempo of life’s waves.  As the rhythm of the tides nourishes life below the surface in its repetitive cycle of cleansing, hope energizes us with a promise of restoration, urging us to never give up no matter how hopeless the situation seems.  

My tale of love restored in the pain of loss follows.

A gift was once given to a young girl who dreamed of a knight to fight her battles. He came to save her from a plight brought upon her by a self-righteous love-sucking empire. With his worldly weapons, he disintegrated the threat against her. She loved him with all her heart. And then…

The day came when she no longer remembered what he had done for her. She complained incessantly and took each day with him for granted. When he left that morning to explore the underworld of the sea, she never imagined that he would not return.

In the search for him, futility took over as powerful waves of wrenching pain squeezed her heart. Her tears turned to torrents as she cried out for him. Her life would never be the same without his love. And she knew in that moment that her gift could be mercilessly taken away.

As the search team reminded her to retain hope, she panicked thinking only the worst. Every man remotely resembling her knight from a distance materialized into someone else as she came closer, launching her further into a sea of devastation.

She beseeched God, feeling responsible for his disappearance as she had neglected her love for him.

Eventually, she was led to the place on the shore where he had last been seen before he entered the water. She looked upon the site wanting to believe the mirage that appeared before her with the little hope she had left.

Magically, in that instant, her gift was returned as he turned to her with a smile and outstretched arms and said, “There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Dedicated to My Knight – I will always love you.

-Erika K Rothwell

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