A Thing With Feathers...

How is Hope?

Cate — Mon, 20 Dec 2010 01:51:23 +0000

I’ve been working on updating my web site and when I clicked on the blog link I realized I haven’t written one since September! Wow! Long time. So I started asking myself why, and wondering if hope has been coming or going since that time. I’m not sure why I got sidetracked with looking at ways hope is re-entering my life, and what does hope really mean to me. Certainly this has been an up and down year, and now it’s almost over… I’m eager to start the new one with a plethora of ‘hope,’ mostly for things to work out as they need to, for my highest good, and those I love.

Since I’ve finally changed my name and am beginning the year as a new ‘me,’ I think there is a lot to hope for. Catelyn Annette Neilson has a blank slate, and she can create the next chapter of her life. I love this quote by Erma Bombeck: “When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, ‘I used everything you gave me’.”

I hope for this, too.

Hope Vs. Expectation

Cate — Wed, 15 Sep 2010 20:12:13 +0000

Ok, here is something I did not know. A friend and I were having this conversation about the difference between ‘hoping’ and ‘expecting’–basically he had told me I ‘expected’ too much from people. While this may be true on some level, my feeling was that I don’t really ‘expect’ so much as I ‘hope.’

But after reading these definitions, I realize that hope brings its own expectation. I always thought hope simply meant ‘wished for,’ but it obviously means much more than that. Behind hope is the belief that the wish will be fulfilled.

I’m curious, however, where this leaves me after being told my expectations are too high? Can expectations ever be too high? Perhaps it’s not that they are, but rather the attachment to the outcome or the lack of faith in the hope being attained. So should we not hope? Should we not expect? Or should we simply love without investment in the result?

EXPECTATION

The act of expecting.
Eager anticipation: eyes shining with expectation.
The state of being expected.
Something expected: a result that did not live up to expectations.
Prospects, especially of success or gain.

HOPE
–verb-intransitive

To wish for something with expectation of its fulfillment.
Archaic To have confidence; trust.

–verb-transitive

To look forward to with confidence or expectation: We hope that our children will be successful.
To expect and desire.

–noun

A wish or desire accompanied by confident expectation of its fulfillment.
Something that is hoped for or desired: Success is our hope.
One that is a source of or reason for hope: the team’s only hope for victory.
Christianity The theological virtue defined as the desire and search for a future good, difficult but not impossible to attain with God’s help.
Archaic Trust; confidence.

Hungry Hopes

Cate — Mon, 02 Aug 2010 16:22:48 +0000

Sarah McLachlan’s music and life has shadowed me since the early 90s. Seeing her at Caravan of Dreams in Fort Worth, Texas, early in her career and my relationship, was one of the most memorable times of my life. Her song ‘Ice Cream’ was played at my wedding. Many of her songs were favorite choices at karaoke, my love by my side. Sometimes she sang of heartache, and reminded me of the losses of the past… Over the past few years, I put her CDs on the shelf and forgot about them.

Then I heard the song ‘Forgiveness‘ off her latest release, Laws of Illusion. I had no idea she’d been through a similar breakup just about the time mine was happening. I wish I’d known; I think I would have found comfort and compassion in knowing. But she was writing the album that is leading me toward healing now. I’ve even taken up trying to learn ‘Forgiveness,’ a song that touches my heart deeply, on the piano.

For now though, I’d like to share this link, because it so defines my own life and relationships, as well as the place I’m trying to go forward from… A million thanks to you, Sarah, for sharing this music that reminds me I am not alone in the grief that still marks my days. Thanks as well for reminding me that ‘awakening’ from the ‘laws of illusion’ is still possible.

Windows of Hope

Cate — Sun, 01 Aug 2010 21:55:14 +0000

They are small and dusty, and not much light gets past the grime, but I see a bit, filtering in. It’s wonderfully exciting, to think there might be light beyond this dismal gray. It’s really all about light, isn’t it? Light holds everything and waits only for us to flip a switch, light a candle, open the shade. Once light comes, shadows flee. Shadows of all kinds…even those people would rather we didn’t see. I’ve lived in shadows for so long now, I’d forgotten about the light. I’d forgotten how your heart could fill up with and make you want to dance and sing and live another day, even if you didn’t know what that day might bring. I’d forgotten how much light lives in creativity… I’d forgotten so much, until I picked up my pen, and then my camera, and eventually a needle and thread. I’d forgotten, because I hadn’t turned on the light. Now, I can see…just a bit, but better.

Here’s one of me, surrounded by a bit of light….

Hope Anthem

Cate — Thu, 15 Jul 2010 23:47:23 +0000

Sometimes when I’m out of topics for this blog, I just Google ‘hope’ to see what comes up. Today I found this:

I felt energized and ‘hopeful’ as I listened to Marc’s music. ‘Hope is on its way.’ I SO want to believe that. I want that to be my anthem. Perhaps next year, instead of ‘patience,’ my word will be ‘hope.’

All I know is that, at the moment, life continues to toss me to and fro. I believe I’m doing better at riding the storm, but I’ll be glad when the seas are calm again. Please God, send hope my way.

Whispered Word of Hope

Cate — Tue, 06 Jul 2010 20:31:06 +0000

My friend Taylor Ballard wrote this poem about change, and I felt touched by its lovely images…there’s a lot of food for thought here…read it and see…my thoughts follow

Hallways

Ancient doors throw wide so easily
While faithful apathy falls at my feet
Did I bring three brothers atop an olive mountain
Just to dispense a promise I couldn’t keep?
Seeking the whispered word of Hope
Crawling razor-torn across hallowed ground
Begging just a taste of water from a prophet
Maybe I’ll get it right
Next time around.
Life is beauty built from chaos:
Balancing twelve spinning plates.
You’ll either die in the wreckage,
Or be applauded something great.
But I’m still learning about us,
Still scraping the ash from our wings.
And I wonder, To get the things we really want,
Will we kill the things we need?
Throw a noose around my fear of retribution,
Repel twilight’s unwanted company,
Then drift them gently in the wind
From the bough of the withered willow tree.
I must be reaching for the troubled pool,
Head and heart in dissonance.
Which of us will first walk this highway
Flowing further from another chance?
You’re still learning how to love –
I’m just learning how to cry alone.
Faith is not the words that we say:
It’s how we choose to respond.

How often have I heard this lately, ‘it’s how we choose to respond?’ Choosing to respond with faith, with light, with ‘hope’ is so hard for me, after a lifetime of feeling invisible and invalidated. I’m only now realizing how those feelings have controlled my life, and my greatest hope is that some day I’ll believe in the deepest recesses of my heart that ‘I matter.’ Truly ‘life is beauty built from chaos,’ but sometimes overcoming the chaos is the biggest challenge we’ll ever face.

In answering the question ‘to get the things we really want, will we kill the things we need?’ I believe most people, whether they want to believe it or not, would have to say ‘yes.’ The things we need are the hard things, the challenges, the dark hours, the night of the soul. None of us want to stay there; we want to run as far and as fast as we can. I think what happens, as the title to Taylor’s poem seems to imply, is that we run into the ‘hallway’ and from there look for the nearest door back into the light. But perhaps the hallway is where growth really occurs, perhaps it’s the place we meet faith, hope, and charity. Perhaps if we just took a breath and rested there, peace might find us.

Hope is…

Cate — Mon, 05 Jul 2010 19:57:10 +0000

…Patience with the lamp lit.‘ ~Tertullian

I love this quote. Reminders to be patient enter my life daily. Even my horoscope today was titled ‘Waiting in Resolution’ and spoke of the importance of having patience instead of speeding through life thinking I have somewhere important to go. Really, there is no place to go, no place to be, but here. Sometimes being ‘here’ feels painful and difficult and I want nothing more than to ‘not be here.’ But I believe, I ‘hope’ that I am ‘here’ for a reason, and that hope is indeed the light I keep following, praying it doesn’t go out and leave me in a void of darkness from which there is no escape. I’ve felt that void often over the past couple of years, lapping at my heels like a massive sea laden with the sticky blackness of an oil spill. To avoid being sucked into it, I keep moving toward that light. Many days my patience runs thin and I feel close to letting go and slipping, yet I continue to be propelled by that light. May it never be extinguished.

Freedom’s Hope

Cate — Sun, 04 Jul 2010 19:22:58 +0000

I don’t think any song says ‘freedom’ better than ‘If I Had a Hammer’ by Peter, Paul, and Mary.

I grew up on their music…the first song I ever remember singing in the backseat of my parent’s car was ‘Puff the Magic Dragon.’ (I had no idea it was a song about marijuana and to me, it’s still not!) And all these years later, I still remember the chords. In high school, ‘If I Had a Hammer’ was one of my standards on trips in the choir bus.

As I listen to their tunes now, I realize how many of their songs are integrated into my life. They inspired me, held me, comforted me during years when I felt lost and alone. Today they still do. They make me want to be a better person. They make me care. They make me remember my youth. May I never forget. May none of us forget.

Rays of Hope

Cate — Mon, 28 Jun 2010 20:01:01 +0000

I love this photo….It reminds me of that popular quote that sometimes you can’t see the forest for the trees. Except in this picture, you can see rays of sunlight piercing the darkness of the forest, promising brightness on the other side of the shadows. I so want to believe that light in there, somewhere, and today I had a slight glimpse, I think. It didn’t cast enough glow to provide any real illumination, only offered a promise that maybe somewhere there is a brighter day. I feel like I’ve lived in shadows for so long now, and I long to experience sunlight on my face… More than that, I want to enjoy the sunlight on my face. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever really enjoy anything again…even those times when I see a ray of light, sadness prevails. Sometimes the melancholy seems to be all that’s left of me. Will that ever change? Because even if it changes, I know there’s a place in my heart that will always hold the scars of this terrible wounding. The only thing I can imagine that might bring healing is love, but love still seems impossible. In the meantime I look to faith to fill the gaps–but so far, they remain loosely sewn and it slips through. So I take very small steps and pray for if not constant, at least consistent, rays of light.

Surrendering Hope

Cate — Fri, 25 Jun 2010 17:48:43 +0000

Why, you may wonder? Isn’t having hope a good thing? Lately I’ve decided maybe it’s not. Maybe what we’re supposed to hold on to isn’t hope, but faith. Maybe hope is asking, wanting, desiring, longing, wishing, dreaming, praying, etc etc. It’s okay to do those things, but then we have to let them go and have ‘faith’ that what we need–that’s right, need, not want–will come to us in God’s time–that’s right, God’s time, not our time. I believe we have to have ‘faith’ that what’s sent will be better than anything we might have hoped for. At least, that’s what I want to believe. Somehow, I’m not finding it that easy, and therein lies the rub, as Shakespeare might say. But I am keeping at open mind, and I am willing. Faith, bring it on!