Wild Hope

Each morning, as I feel myself slowly rising, floating above dreamland until I hit the surface of wakefulness, I have no body. I am awareness. Consciousness that is here and there and everywhere all at once, leaving behind one reality and waiting to merge with another. And in this space in between, I am enveloped in hope. It is not just lukewarm, half-hearted hope, but a wild one, brimming with possibility, one I can experience with all of my senses while my eyelids still rest softly over my eyes. I can see the day unfolding just how I would want it to; I can see magic become manifest through the uplifting energy of an unapologetic conviction that goodness prevails. I can see healing taking place as empowering words are exchanged, emotions freely felt and limiting beliefs lifted. I can see love being channeled through this body in which I reside. Like heavy snowfall, it quiets the noise and softens fears. It holds space for whatever the moment brings. It offers a nugget of wisdom that playfully bubbles up from that place within me where we are all whole, powerful, and immensely beautiful. Trying to keep afloat in the complexity of life and our misunderstood humanness, we forget that we are all those things.  Each morning, I have wild hope that we will wake up, and remember. Even if all we remember is that we are not alone.