hope

how long is it reasonable to hope for something that seems impossible?
when is it best to give up?

in the core of my being, i believe hope and faith are by definition unreasonable, at least in part. hope is a desire for something i've yet to see, and there's something poignant about that. a deposit was made into us before He saw what we were going to be. but of course, He knew. He knew how many times we would fail and bought us anyway.

so when do i give up hope? what i wanted was crushed months ago, and though it's taken shape again in some ways, there are gaps in the foundation and piles of rubble that reach my waist. but when i look at the structure barely standing, i see outlines of walls. i see curtains at the windows. i see dishes on the table and love in the mirror. so what's wrong with me? some days i feel certain that i'm seeing what will surely come. other days i question my sanity and tilt my head, hoping to loosen the delusions.

i know that hope is best placed when not in a specific set of circumstances --- true joy and fulfillment come in so many more shapes and sizes than we can imagine. but it's so difficult not to try and color my hope in certain lines, make it fit my concept of happiness. the possibilities in my life are endless, and this feels both liberating and overwhelming. why is everything so two-sided, with both sides warring against one another? when i feel limited or like choices have been made for me, i kick at the walls and make myself hoarse calling for help. when i have the entire world before me, i crouch in fear and look for a small space to hide.

i will never understand this about myself, but i'm realizing that i am often a significant obstacle to my own contentment and freedom. writing it out loud makes me purse my lips in distaste.

so how to counteract the dismay that quickly follows such reflections? i have to lift my head up and force myself to go the opposite direction. i can't hate myself or hate my life (which would be my tendencies) --- i have to trust the world and yes, trust myself. hope, faith, and love are the foundations of a healthy life. but they have to be mixed and poured . . . and i'll tell you, it's backbreaking (and heartbreaking) work.

but you knew that already. you've been through a lot too.
i am here --- i will take your hand at the end of the day
and we'll straighten up and walk home in the last light
together. and then it will be just as i saw it in my mind,
you and me building what's been a long time coming,
putting up curtains, setting the table, seeing each other,
walking up the stairs, breathing, singing new songs.

__________________________

if you've made it this far through this entry, you deserve the beauty that's coming your way now. after being out of town for a few days, my files are brimming over with inspiration. i hope it lifts the cloud for you like it does for me. maybe it gives you just enough hope to get through today. somehow i think that's all we can really ask for.

Kara Mann Design
via Fondly Seen, posted on Brabourne Farm

i'm not usually a fan of so many natural / earth tones, but in this case i have to make an exception. all the darker, almost flat colors make those ivory roses stand out beautifully. and somehow the room is feminine, but not overly so; i can see a man appreciating this space. (or maybe not --- i really don't know anything about men, so my opinion on that front is worthless.)

found on emmas design blogg

i just love this children's room, especially the "SLEEP" posted so subtly above the tiny bed on the right. so clean, fresh, and innocent without being too baby-ish. i can picture children playing in this room on the grey and rainy afternoons.

Stellan Herner for Elle Decor
styled by Lotta Noremark

sigh . . . can't you sink into the idea of morning coffee (or afternoon naps) in this space? both sound magnificently appealing right now. this photo was taken by a much-loved man in the design & style realm, Stellan Herner. there's something so serene about the orderliness of this area and the more fluid and unpredictable lines of the trees and leaves outside. what a great contrast.

via A Glamourous Little Side Project
posted on Fashion Gone Rogue

i love the strong silhouette of this girl against the undulating tide and the city skyline. sometimes the ground beneath me feels like shifting sand, there's nothing to hold onto. but i am a solid outline in this world, i am here, i have something to say and do and be. the waters rise and fall, and i am alive still. and there is a hope that lights my way.

this is me
this is she
black for mourning
black for shadow
standing straight
against the sea
this is she
this is me