tangible hope

The low clouds today hold in a bit of warmth, keeping the day a few degrees above freezing. The grass remains a faint green with the rain, and a few leaves still decay along dusty curbs and lend the last remnants of autumn scent to the air. The shift is on towards winter, no turning back this year. Bicyclists bundle up, mittens make more appearances, large pots of soup become the choice for dinner, steaming things are appealing and comforting...

I felt the revolution today, within reach at the edge of my fingertips. It's a revolution of kindness, of sweetness - the smile of a girl selling organic apples at the market, the Turkish baker with a thick moustache who loves what he creates, the crowd of strangers in the densely used bookstore who are ready to offer suggestions and critical reviews, the offer of tea which stands open at all houses you visit, the pleasant durability and familiarity of red brick homes with raked yards, sunlight passing gently through large cold windows onto fleece blankets draped over our legs. It's a revolution not of the season, but of how we want to be.

It's scary yet liberating when we remember that we are the ones we're waiting for. We are responsible for our own happiness. We choose each day how to be, what to do, how to live, how much to work, how much to play, what to eat, how much to love and how much to fear. It's up to us to create a society that is not over-worked, drug-addicted, or sleep deprived. We need to practice kindness everyday - being kind to ourselves and each other. So often I forget, and I blame others for problems or hope for others to be our salvation. The world is only what we make of it, and each of our kind acts moves across the world like ripples on a lake or a beautiful figure skater on a frozen pond. We can be beautiful people with rich lives - sometimes we just need to take back the portions of our lives that we don't feel control over or move beyond the fear that keeps us from stepping up and doing things today that we were afraid of yesterday. We are acorns in the frozen loam waiting for spring, clippings of grapevines waiting to fill vats with crimson life, children learning to laugh and hug, old men whittling on the porch and keeping the neighborhood covered, lentils waiting to sprout in shallow loving water, the limitless echo of smiles that can move throughout all our lives if we all remember just a little more...