[blockquote source=”C. JoyBell C.”]“I have come to accept the feeling of not knowing where I am going. And I have trained myself to love it. Because it is only when we are suspended in mid-air with no landing in sight, that we force our wings to unravel and alas begin our flight. And as we fly, we still may not know where we are going to. But the miracle is in the unfolding of the wings. You may not know where you’re going, but you know that so long as you spread your wings, the winds will carry you.” [/blockquote]

I remember the day so very well. The skies were a crisp and brilliant hue -“Monet blue, just like the Waterlillies,” I recalled.

I was a young mother on my way home from the airport to pick up a friend. We had just launched a new business, and our first contract commenced the very next day. As we approached a traffic stop, I could see his arms waving in the rear view mirror, “Pull over,” he shouted, “the United States is under attack.”

And, just like that – the dynamics of our cozy little world were forever changed.

I had always assumed we were safe living just outside our Nation’s capital. But, isn’t it always the case that we take our comforts for granted? Never fully realizing the value of peace until it is so abruptly stolen away.

The silhouette of the trees became nearly indiscernible from the rest of these newly formed ‘shadows.’ As I raced to my children’s side, time seemed to stand perfectly still – as if mocking my impatience.

I’ll never forget the relief in first seeing my daughter’s face again. All smiles, and impervious to these new terrorist threats. “No cry,” she said – still to this day, I can feel her wiping the tears from my face. I always felt it ironic that in a moment when all my worries were lifted, I literally fell to my knees. But, you see, the love of a child changes everything.

“Monet blue,” I smiled in return, “just like the Waterlillies.”

My daughter had the most beautiful blue eyes when she was younger. They were soulful and piercing, filled with wonderment – ‘an old soul’ my mother would say. And, she was right.

As the rest of the world tumbled forward into their fear, I felt an odd sense of comfort in these two eyes smiling back at me. How easily hope is restored in these moments of profound connection. “No cry, Mommy” she said once again – forever, becoming ‘the gift of the Waterlily’s blue.’

“There is a saying in Tibetan,” His Holiness, the Dalai Lama once described, “Tragedy should be utilized as a source of strength. No matter what sort of difficulties, how painful experience is, if we lose our hope, that’s our real disaster.”

Indeed, to lose hope – no matter how grave the crisis – would be our greatest calamity. And, though it may be difficult, at times – we must remember that hope is always there.

Hope rests within the eyes of our children, smiling back to us in our greatest hour of need. It ‘perches to our soul, and sings the tune without words…’ It offers itself unconditionally – through the most magnificent shade of Waterlilies blue.

No matter how difficult the circumstances, how seemingly crushing the blow ~ resilience and fortitude are forged in these moments, forming the frame for Hope’s gentle wings.

It was 13 years ago to this day – September 11, 2001 – that I vowed to make this world a better place. For myself, for my children ~ for each of this world’s living beings. That we may always know this refuge of Hope – ‘even when it crumbles like burnt paper’ within our hands.

My darlings, Hope is always there for us. And, it is our solemn responsibility to ‘always remember.’

Namaste, and much love, my friends…

“to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you’ve held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.”
― Ellen Bass