Once upon a time, a long time ago, in about 1986, I was sitting in a classroom at Eckerd College, listening to an amazing teacher named David Cozad. He was talking about hope.
Now, somewhat typically for me, I remember what David said, though not the name of whomever might have said it first. So, with thanks all around, I’ll tell you about the three kinds of hope which have been with me ever since then.
The first kind of hope is Optimistic Hope. It’s the kind of thing we feel when we hope the one we love will like the birthday gift we chose. Or that the rain, which flooded our basement, has moved on to the folks out West who so desperately need it.
Pessimistic Hope comes next. This is the Murphy’s Law perspective… anything that could possibly go wrong will, and in the worst way imaginable.
The third kind is Fantastic Hope which basically holds that our most amazing dreams for ourselves (and each other) can and will come true. Soon.
This has been a week for all three. And, yes, I watched virtually ALL of the Democratic Convention. (Well, the prime time part 😉 )
There’s one more piece of learning we need to remember before we go on.
If we keep doin’ what we’ve been doin’ we’ll keep gettin’ what we’ve got!
I’m guessing you’re hearing me.
So perhaps you won’t be too surprised when I tell you there’s more to this story.
On Friday evening, having lots of work to do and no convention to watch, I happened upon Sister Act 2 – back in the habit somewhere in the universe of smart tv.
I love Whoopi Goldberg but the star for me, in this moment, was the scrawny, geeky kid who quit doing what he’d been doing. Which is to say that, in front of all his classmates and the nun-teachers, much to everyone’s amazement, he opened his mouth and sang. Sang as in jaw dropping, glass shattering, award worthy, heart at work singing.
I, who will make you all much happier if I don’t sing, think what happened was that he, finally, found some fantastic hope deep inside and just went with it. He did something different.
There are a few different things on my list just now. And I’ll be sharing them over the next couple of weeks. First a reminder.
I was not known (growing up) as the artistic kid. Three years ago, just now, I picked up a paint brush and changed my life.
And, I expect I’ve been pondering these things in the post-convention days for a reason.
Somebody put a comment on Facebook that said Joe Biden is the lesser of two evils.
I responded that maybe, just maybe, with gratitude to Dr. Estes, Joe was born for this moment.
You see, I also learned that it was after the Charlottesville, VA massacre, just three years ago, that Joe decided to run for president again.
Now, this blog post isn’t supposed to be about politics (which means, by the way, of the people). It’s about not doing the old things over and over again that keep getting us what we’ve got, but don’t necessarily want. It’s about hope. Possibly in the face of terror.
So, today I’ll be posting one of my paintings, along with her story, in a group of 3 or 4,000 women I don’t know. And telling them where they might find me if they wanted to know more. Which, for me, is a fairly extroverted thing to do. I’m blaming it, with gratitude, on another of my teachers, Shiloh Sophia McCloud.
And, with help from some dear, talented friends named Veronica and Leisa, my fledgling Etsy shop is sufficiently fluffed for me to invite you to visit FierceArtWithHeart.
And, one of my paintings has been hung in an online museum art show. The opening event for artists is Wednesday, August 26th. (I’ll keep you posted!)
None of those things is going to fix the pandemic or global warming. They are, though, fantastic hope at work. With thanks both to my teachers and to my students, it’s a pretty great way to be!
ps… the painting is a background layer which no longer exists in this dimension. It carries my thanks for the call to Wade in the Water from this afternoon’s Red Madonna church service and prayers for all those in the path of fires and hurricanes, hoping for just the right amount of water.