I set my alarm for 8:30 AM. Not sure why — I had nothing to do. It just felt like a good time. Truth be told, I was up at 7:30 AM, but laid in bed until 9:00 AM. My first work call was at 11:45 AM, so I had plenty of spaciousness. I was exhausted even after being in bed for hours: fires all around, more warnings of lightning that could spark new fires, evacuation plans, a call from a friend who tells of friends in the Santa Cruz mountains who’ve lost everything, Republican National Convention creating a false “reality.” Why get out of bed?
As I stumble across the bedroom floor, my seventeen-year-old son comes in. Happy, enthusiastic, full of life, dancing even. He’s been listening to Cardi B.’s new song, WAP (Wet Ass P***y or as Alexandria Ocasio Cortez refers to it, Women Against Patriarchy). He’s shaking his bootie and joyful. I’m dazed. “How can you be so happy?” I ask. “It’s one day closer to the end of Covid!” he yells. That was a paradigm shift for me. Talk about optimism. So, yes, this post is about hope. Hope in the face of everything telling you there’s no good reason to have it.
I have the book The Audacity of Hope on my bookshelf. I haven’t read it yet, but I like knowing it’s there. More than that, I like the title. Audacity, noun, “a willingness to take bold risks,” as the online dictionary tells me. It really does feel bold to have hope right about now.
I think back on other times in history when things felt bleak and there are many, so this period in life is yet another opportunity to fuel ourselves with the only thing we can all muster free of charge, 24/7, day or night: Hope. I’m realizing that it’s the only thing that kept our forebearers moving ahead.
What gives me hope today:
- Seeing the multiracial makeup of the young folks who take to the streets to shout black lives matter and the care they are showing each other by offering medical support, water, and eye rinses to dilute the impact of tear gas.
- The first woman of color nominated as vice president of the United States: Kamala Harris.
- The orchid buds on the two plants in my bathroom that are growing despite the smokey air they breathe.
- The firefighters who tirelessly work to save our lives and our homes.
- In a desperate kind of way, the Lincoln Project.
- My two sons getting up and going to online school, doing homework, even while they say it’s hard and they hate it.
- Seeing a six-week-old baby on zoom and all her family members gathering to greet her into the world, cooing soft words, awe struck by her tiny toes.
What gives you hope? Name it. Write it down. Thank it.
Hope is our lifeline to the future.
Photo by ShonEjai www.pixabay.com
Bernida Reagan says
What a delight to wake up to this message today. Thank you for sharing Maria. I appreciate your son’s optimism and am grabbing it for my own today. I’m getting your book today. I appreciate you and miss you much.
Bernida
Maria Ramos-Chertok says
BERNIDA! I miss you too…it’s been so long. I’m glad my words got to visit with you this morning. Remember when I came to EBCLC with Joshua in a carrier? Yes, 17 years ago.
margie schwartz says
What a great writing – josh is right – I love the 1 day closer to the end of covid!! Thanks – made my day.
Maria Ramos-Chertok says
Very glad you enjoyed it! Josh is waiting to share more of his joy with you in Marin Search & Rescue…
Claudia says
This is lovely, Maria! I’m right there with you on your list and on morning dances in the kitchen!! Can’t believe he is 17! Mine is 13 – my how time flies. xoxo Claudia
Maria Ramos-Chertok says
So hard to believe! Enjoy the dancing 🙂
Deborah Moss-West says
Beautiful!
Maria Ramos-Chertok says
Thank you, Deborah!
Heidi Mendez Harrison says
Maria
I loved this-so glad you are safe and well and enlightened by your son.
I’m looking forward to performing Both And for Yom Kippur.
Blessings
Maria Ramos-Chertok says
Hi Heidi – so nice to hear from you! I appreciate you, Maria
Pete says
One thing that gives me hope during these surreal times is knowing there are people like you in this world – a person who looks beyond the moment, while taking-in that very moment and sharing with us the tragic and at the same time … the miracle of hope.
Thank you for that!
P
Maria Ramos-Chertok says
Thank you, Pete! Appreciate your reading and connecting to what’s possible.
Michele says
You’ve raised kids who not only see the glass as “half full” but know how to fill it themselves – what a good job, Mama!! Your boy has always been this way: 7 years ago, when he and my son auditioned for a play and my kid was cast and he wasn’t I was so worried that his feelings would be hurt but his response to my son was, “I can’t wait to see you in it!” He’s only become more of that light!!
Maria Ramos-Chertok says
Wow! thank you for sharing that memory and for seeing the light in Joshua. You and I met when moved to Mill Valley during Joshua’s first year of life. What a journey it’s been to be here alongside you and your family these past 17 years. May we all continue to share in the mutual joys and moments these guys bring us.
Luna says
Maria,
Ditto to all the comments. Beautiful Joshua is 17 and reframing for all of us and dancing. Yes!! Thanks for putting this out XOXO
Maria Ramos-Chertok says
thank you, Luna, for reading and seeing the beauty of that moment and of his spirit. Miss you!
Pamela A Weymouth says
Maria I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS! I love your son’s comments. Your getting out of bed ode that totally echoes my feelings all last week. and the Cardi B dance HA HA. Love your son saying “one day closer to end of covid” THANK YOU FOR THIS BLESSED OUNCE OF HOPE! SENDING LOVE
Maria Ramos-Chertok says
hi Pamela – thank you for reading and for your comments! yes, all that was happening on the other side of the canyon – right in your backyard! 🙂