Amanda has been writing for about as long as
she can remember. She was always the kid walking around with a tattered
old binder of her poetry. She used to ride her bike around her block
waiting for her muse to come and provide her with inspiration. These
days, daily life offers her plenty of inspiration, and she writes because it is
the only way she knows how to make sense of the world. Amanda is a stay
at home mama to her two young girls, and she tries to fill their days with
reading, loving, and creating. She blogs about all of this and more at Indisposable Mama. When she's not writing or spending time
with her family, she can usually be found knitting crazy hats to photograph her
children in. Surely those photographs will be priceless in the years to
come, either as reminders of fond memories or as great fodder for blackmail. Find more posts from her here.
I have been thinking a lot about hope lately. When I look
around me, there is so little of it to be found. It seems almost as if
people are afraid of hope.
If you
listen to our political discourse (from both sides,) you will hear public
figures talking about how the other side's options will never work. If we
elect the "wrong" people, our country will go downhill. If we make
the wrong choice (and someone always thinks a choice is wrong,) we will end up
in a land of despair.
We hear it
when people talk about our society as a whole. They will talk about how
our cultural values are in the gutter and we are getting further and further
away from some past ideal. Hope isn't preached; instead we lament the
present.
And in my
house at least, my kids hear it too much in the way I speak about my life and
the way I carry out my days.
Growing up,
I was an eternal optimist. I had a deeply held belief that things would
work out for the best. Even if something bad did happen, some other
opportunity always came along that made things better. I had an unlimited
belief in the goodness of the world and in my own ability to capitalize on that
goodness.
And then
somewhere along the way it got lost. I now find myself facing challenges
and instead of hoping for and working for the best (or even just for the
better,) I find myself wallowing in what is. I don't take enough risks
anymore. I don't dare to believe that change is possible.
In many
ways, I am living a dream life right now staying home with my two little
girls. We spend our days how we want to, and every day I am bombarded
with kisses and hugs and eyes that see the wonder in the world. But as
any stay at home mom will tell you, it's not all smiles and giggles. The
job also comes with a lot of fatigue, lost patience, and burn out. Good and bad
though, I know without a doubt, I will mourn these days when they have past.
And so in
honor of these days and the memories we are creating, I am going to work on
bringing hope back into my home. From here on out, I am making this
affirmation on behalf of my family.
We believe
in hope.
We believe
in positive change.
We work to
change that which we do not like.
We have
confidence in our ability to make change happen, and we also trust in our
ability to handle any hardships that come our way. We are strong, and we
are capable.
Always, we
will look forward to the rainbow that follows the rain.
As with any change, our journey away from despair towards
hope will take time and will be a bumpy road, but part of hope is not giving
up. And I won't give up because my children deserve to know that there is
always a chance for things to get better as long as we are willing to fight for
it.
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