When social bonds break and an agreed-upon social order (called government, called organized religion, called good manners) shrinks to disappearing, then what will our shared story tell us of hope?
There is a difference between hope and foolish optimism. Real hope requires first seeing the depth and dimension of our problem. Only then can we create or rediscover the kind of hope that leaps through the tangle into freedom.
"[Freedom] doesn't come from resisting our fears but from getting to know them well." (Pema Chodron)
This morning a layer of frost creates a thin sandwich filling between what is rooted in earth and the brilliant blue air that floats around us. Light on air molecules allows me to see the aggregation of molecules, hence the brilliant blue. All the molecules together. Winter brings a clarity not so easily found in other seasons.
What is the story we share in winter? What enchantment can we, together, make possible? What can we agree upon now to take forward into the potential season of renewal?
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