On Hope

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I can’t shake this feeling of hope. Its hovering around above me like a bright, iridescent cloud, raining joyful, shimmery confetti down into my heart today.

The curse of an empath is that I am often working against the energy of others. I have to mindfully work to protect my own energy on a daily basis. But the New Year is an empath’s dream. Its as if the entire world has joined together in conspiracy of hope, and the energy in the air feels like the warmest winter sunlight basking down on me everywhere I go.

The most innocent, child-like mark of human nature is hope. Its what keeps us dreaming and opens our hearts to the possibility of joy. Yet for some reason, we feel as if we need permission to feel it. Hope is there for us every day, tucked behind the cynicism and the skepticism, jumping up and down like a school child waiting to be called on by the teacher. DARING us to reach out and take it by the hand. Begging us to embrace it and let it in to warm up our cool hearts. But life stops us. Skepticism stops us. The desire to be liked and accepted and not open ourselves up to the heartbreak that comes from unanswered hope stops us. The fear of heartbreak stops us. (Because what is Love, but just the embodiment of hope?)

But when that clock strikes midnight on New Year’s Eve, even the most hardened heart can’t deny those little pangs of hope in their heart. The vibrations that awake in their soul by simply allowing themselves to dream of the possibilities of the year ahead. The undeniable hope of the new year. A hope that brings us to our knees and allows us to open our hearts to the love and wonder of a year of unrealized potential and adventure.

In time, the hope will fade for most. The busy-ness of life will push that little spark in their soul down until they are given permission to hope again next New Year.

But today, I can hear my hopeful heart speaking loudly to me. “Hope. Hope. Hope.” on repeat in my head. It is telling me over and over again that this peace I feel today will be here for me all year if I choose to open myself up to it. It is reminding me to let my hope shine like a beacon, even as the magic of the New Year starts to fade, to guide myself back to the possibilities of hope and joy every day.

I didn’t pick a “word” to live by for 2020. But, as it turns out, the universe picked one for me, and I’m not one to deny the universe her desires.

So here’s to 2020. My year of Hope



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