Juggling: An Unraveled Post
Here We Are Again

Planting Hope

This week has seemed to be a particularly . . . ugly one. Fires and hurricanes and plague. Politicians encouraging the worst in us. I don't need to go on. You all know this. You all feel this. These are wearying days.

So I encourage you to dig deep, my friends. To turn off the news. To put down your phones. To stop scrolling. Go outside and see what's happening there. Renew your soul.

"Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature - the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter."
            --- Rachel Carson, Silent Spring


Last night, as the sun was going down, I went out in my garden with the dogs . . . and I noticed these incredible rays shining through the trees. It made me forget the troubles of the world for a few minutes. It reminded me that there is more happening out there than what we see on our screens; what we hear in the news.

And then I turned around.
And saw this . . . 


Among the weeds and plants dying back in my late summer garden, there was my little pond frog . . . nestled in the arms of Garden Buddha, basking in the sun's last rays for the day!

Could there be any better reminder . . . that we have a place in the world beyond the despair?


And, because it is Friday and Fridays still seem to be for poetry around here, here is a poem from you by another of my favorite poets, David Whyte. 


The Journey
David Whyte

Above the mountains
   the geese turn into 
      the light again

Painting their
   black silhouettes
      on an open sky.

Sometimes everything
   has to be
      inscribed across 
         the heavens

so you can find
   the one line
      already written
         inside you.

Sometimes it takes
   a great sky
      to find that

first, bright
   and indescribable
      wedge of freedom
         in your own heart.

Sometimes with
   the bones of the black
      sticks left when the fire
         has gone out

someone has written
   something new
      in the ashes of your life.

You are not leaving.
   Even as the light fades quickly now,
      you are arriving.


It's especially important for us to remember that . . . we are not leaving right now (even as the light fades quickly); we are arriving. Dig deep, my friends. Keep looking for hope in the dark spaces.

My best wishes to all of you . . . for a weekend filled with peace and solace, time to rest -- and things that bring you joy. (And maybe some poetry, too.) 

Don't forget to look for hope.


Today's poem was published in David Whyte: Essentials, edited by Gayle Karen Young Whyte, Many Rivers Press, 2020.  Information about the poet can be found here



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Thank you. After this week and the speech last night I needed this reminder to keep looking for hope and this David Whyte poem. It's so easy to feel despair and harder to look for hope but this poem may get me through the next 67 days, whatever the outcome.


Oh my, what lovely, hopeful images. I have stayed away from the news this week. I don’t think there is anything worthy of my head and heart coming through the lens of broadcasting right now.


While I avoided the RNC this week, some news just cannot be avoided. This was that week for me. However, I felt rays of home with the sports player strikes, and this poem. Thank you. It is the perfect thing to start the weekend with!


I was so happy to see a beautiful, shimmering, fleeting rainbow yesterday. It has definitely been a week. I spotted a "T#*%p Shop" in my little town this morning that appeared overnight, and I hope to god it's a temporary pop-up.


Kym, thank you for the hope & the poem. We are visiting our cabin (northern MI). Last night as we sat on the deck there was a horrible racket, then over the roof flew a flock of at least 20 Sandhill Cranes!
With the sunlight coming in low from the west, it was a sight to behold.
Sometimes everything does have to be inscribed across the heavens.


Thank you Kym for sharing the beauty of nature in your yard. This a lovely reminder at that life continues.in spite of mankind. I think I need a trip to the beach next week to bring hope into my heart. The ocean always relaxes me and quites my mind.


Hope and joy are key! Love your little frog nestled in Buddha's arms - so perfect. And the poem is very perfect as well. Getting out in nature can cure so many aches of different types.

Margene Smith

Your picture (and your words) are a perfect reminder to be here now and feel the peace that surrounds us. Thank you.


Kym what a lovely post to end the week. To dig deep for hope and overcome despair is I needed today. I love the frog in the arms of the Buddha. What a perfect reminder.


I hope that we can carry the thought that we are not leaving, we arriving through the next 66 days! It's so hard not to despair at the horrible news, but I'm trying to remember that there are those of us who can imagine a better world and are committed to doing what it takes to make it a reality.


The frog and the Buddha...what sign of hope for you in that moment! I'm generally able to walk through sunshine and rainbows most days but honestly...I'm terrified. Thank-you for these beautiful words on this very rainy Saturday. xo

kathy b

Oh. We all need some comfort and light! Great post.
I just found some light in a fun photo my friend sent me. I sent her one year old a puppet kitten and she is bewildered!

Katie @ The Cozy Burrow

I love the frog with Buddha. How perfect! Can we imagine our hope and optimism cradled in the arms of Buddha right now?

And I love the poem you included and I think the universe is speaking to me right now... I recently saw another David Whyte poem that struck me on Instagram. I suppose I should look a bit closer.

Enjoy your Sunday!


Enjoying a little time today catching up with folks and finding HOPE in this community is making me, well, hopeful! (as is the promise of some cooler days, a stack of books and four freshly wound skeins of yarn!)

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