While the work of integration and encoding new circuitry is
not easy, and requires just about everything we have, there is hope. While it
can seem like moving a mountain, the pathways are open, translucent, and not as
solid as they appear. In their own way, they long to be reorganized into more
integrated and cohesive forms. They are hopeful that they will be restructured.
I do not speak all that often about hope, as I am a great
fan of hopelessness as a wrathful and transformative companion on the path. There
is magic inside hopelessness but the art of mining that gold has been lost in
our modern world. You can still find it, it is buried inside your heart.
It is not some disembodied, theoretical, philosophical hope
that is offered here. It is embodied, untamed, creative, and alive. It is not a
hope that things will always turn out the way we want them to, or that love
will always conform to our hopes and fears, or some surety that our most
cherished dreams will not be shattered. It is much more radical than that.
It is a hope that is a wild sort of confidence in your true
nature, which has never been unhealed. It is the kind of hope that you stand on
the rooftop, shout out in the four directions, and embody with the sun, the
moon, and the stars as your witness.
It is the hope of wholeness, and the utter workability and
sacredness of your emotions, your feelings, and the temple that is your own
body. It is the hope that your vulnerability, your tender heart, and your ripe
being is a gift here, without which the planets may fall out of orbit.
It is the kind of hope that is not passive, but is the
material of revolution.