Sunny Days Ahead

Hope and I have a complicated relationship.

In one breath, I’ve never given up my hope for a sunnier future than the moment I exist in. That blind optimism for brighter days ahead has never failed me. I’ve made it through 100% of the shitty days I’ve left behind me, and I always manage to learn something along the way.

In the next breath, I want to fully surrender to the peace of the present moment. I want to release my grip on hope- not because it isn't important, but because I’ve rarely felt safe or grounded enough in the present to put hope down and simply bask in where I am right now. (Hi, anxiety?) 

Part of that is on me. It’s my responsibility to appreciate what’s right in front of me. Yet, it can feel selfish to reach for more when what I have has always been “good-enough.”

Unfortunately, I’ve never been satisfied with “good enough”, and this season of life has taught me how truly precious the present is. It has reshaped my understanding of contentment, and of hope herself. I’m slowly learning that hope and presence aren't enemies. Even in the middle of a storm, there are quiet, magical, and beautiful moments I would have missed without the turbulence. The storm is teaching me to give my pain a purpose, and that purpose breeds hope for sunnier days. So while I cling to hope for the future, I’m also learning to spot the magic right here, right now, even when it hurts. And boy, does it hurt. 

Hope isn’t an escape from today; it’s the drive that keeps me moving forward, reaching higher, and finding even more to be grateful for when the clouds finally do clear. Because they will clear. I will see the sun again; I always have, and I always will. & I have a feeling that when it appears again, it’s going to feel warmer and brighter than any sunny day I’ve lived through in the past. The version of Maria typing here today is fundamentally changed, softer yet stronger than who I used to be, and open to whatever comes next. 

Those earlier versions of Maria haven't disappeared- they're still living within me, and I'm finally learning to offer them the unconditional love and gentle grace they've needed all along. That tender shift in perspective gives me renewed hope, and so the beautiful cycle continues. What can I say? Hope and I may have a complicated relationship, but together, we take the long road home.