Emily Dickinson famously wrote:

Hope is the thing with feathers; That perches in the soul; And sings the tune without the words; And never stops, at all.

For me, though, hope does stop. It comes and goes. It’s like my cats lying in a shaft of sunlight, warm and comforting and cozy. It makes me want to purr.

Then the sun moves along and Sora and Leilani are lying in shadow, and if they want to find a sunny spot again, now they have to get up and move. Do you have cats? Can you picture their displeasure at losing the sun? That cat attitude of what a bother it is to rouse themselves enough to move to some other sunny spot to continue their life of sleep? I get like that. Why do I have to work for it? The sun (and hope) should just be there!

Another wise woman, Adrienne from Yoga with Adrienne talks about hope as a muscle. Use it or lose it. It’s only strong when we are actively working it.

Which brings me to another beacon of hope, Jesse Jackson, who died today. He was the first person I ever voted for president. I distinctly remember considering whether I wanted to throw my first presidential vote away on someone who wasn’t going to win. I’m so glad I decided that it wasn’t about that. It was believing in the vote I cast, and I stand by that vote.

I bring up Jesse Jackson because he made a famous speech in 1988 calling on us to “Keep hope alive. Keep hope alive. Keep hope alive.” I read that speech this morning and recommend you do the same. He talks about common ground, unity. He paints a picture of creating a quilt with a beautiful patchwork of all American’s needs sewn together for the benefit of all, not a patch here and there but a unified whole.

So how do we possibly stay hopeful in times like these? The same way I would guess that Jesse Jackson stayed hopeful after watching his friend Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination. We work for it.

I know what tends to help me cultivate hope. Gratitude, creativity, connection with people I love, doing meaningful work, having fun, enjoying the beauty of nature, whether that’s a trip to the beach or a walk around the lake across from my office.

Plus, my work entails giving people hope…or at the very least, holding hope for them when they can’t summon it up themselves, which requires that I maintain hope myself. I need to keep my supply strong so that I have more to pass around.

I mentioned this to my friend the other day (yet another wise woman), who suggested that maybe I don’t need to be a container of hope for everyone right now. Maybe it’s okay to be with people in their discouragement and despair. Maybe that’s the best we can do right now.

I think it’s a patchwork. I will keep aspiring toward hope and also accept that perhaps it’s okay to feel some despair as well. It’s raining today, not a day for basking in the light. Maybe this is a day for shivering together in the cold. I don’t really like that answer, but I am trying to remember that just because it’s a cloudy day doesn’t mean the sun is gone forever. It will come back another day. Oh, wait, that sounds like hope! I guess I just can’t help myself!