The Hope Lady writes about life from a hopeful perspective. Wendy Edey shares her experience with hope work, being hopeful, hopeful people, hopeful language and hope symbols. Read about things that turned out better than expected and impossible things that became possible. Read about hoping, coping, and moping in stories about disability, aging, care-giving and child development.
Thursday, September 08, 2016
ACT OF DEFIANCE
A blossom burst out on the rose bush this morning
Lush, and perfect and smelling like a rose
A botanical act of defiance
Against the shortening of the days
That threatens an end to summer.
Monday, September 05, 2016
A NEWER ME
BE BRAVE TONIGHT
By Samantha Reynolds
http://bentlily.com/2012/03/05/be-brave-tonight/
Courage is not a genetic hand-me-down
or a choice you can rely on
in the moment
it is a muscle
if you do not use it
it will shrink
you will go to be brave one day
and find you are floppy
and unsure
so try on
your convictions
start with your own echo
the words that play in your head
quicksand words
telling you things like
never
stand up to yourself
stare down the doubt
in the pitch-black privacy
of your darkest thought
be gutsy
remember that a shadow
carries no weight
rescue yourself
and you will grow
like a plant to sunlight
bent
towards valor.
The old me wouldn’t have pushed a walker along a littered hospital corridor. A hospital corridor, after all, is no place for a blind person pushing a walker. Too many hazards: cleaning carts to the left or right, frail patients creeping silently, nurses checking their iPhones with backs turned, lab carts, blood pressure machines, intravenus poles! Fear of embarrassment, of being singled out as “blind”, of being banned from hallways by hospital authorities. If I ever worked on changing that, it was never a conscious action.
But yesterday--when I wheeled David’s walker out into the hall, intending to park it outside his door, to motivate the staff to help him walk to lunch rather than taking the easier path of wheeling him, narrowly missing a silent woman who, not without cause, barked: “Watch where you’re going!”—I was thoroughly surprised to find that the old me had been replaced. The new me said: “I’m sorry. I’m a blind person.” It was true, has always been true, but this time I was only sorry that I had been careless, and I wasn’t a bit embarrassed. The new me simply shrugged when the offended party made a rude reply. And I noticed, later in the day, when I carefully wheeled the walker into the hall, that the same offended party politely said, “I’ll just go around you.”
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