Sometimes I find things online and bookmark them for reasons I immediately forget. Because of this habit, I am confident that there are bookmarks in my list that I will never, ever, visit again. And then there are the ones I find again at exactly the time I need to find them.
Sometimes life is painful and challenging for reasons you'd be hard pressed to explain to another person. I think it was on Grey's Anatomy this past week that someone lamented, "It isn't supposed to be this hard." To which the person to whom she was talking replied, "It isn't supposed to be anything." (It's altogether possible it wasn't Grey's Anatomy and it's additionally likely I've remembered the quote incorrectly. Doesn't matter - the gist is what matters.) I kind of like that. Gives me hope that I can make "it" something else, anyoldtime I want it badly enough - and put forth the effort.
Of course sometimes life is breathtakingly beautiful and mindbogglingly glorious, too, but I'll write more about that life on another day when I'm not quite so close to the challenging thoughts.
I had a point. Which is this. Sometimes when I sit down to write, the words won't come. They're all there - all forty eleven thousand of them - rushing at the edge of my brain, begging to pour onto the paper or into the keyboard, but they just struggle there, warring with each other, each wanting first dibs at being in charge. Days like that I can rarely write anything, and I think back to when I didn't have a blog and so my "failure" to find my words wasn't quite so public. Days like that I often choose to read, looking for something to connect with. When I'm very lucky I'll find a gem that inspires my writing, (note I didn't say "inspires good writing" as that's never guaranteed...only that the writing will eventually come,) that includes a segment with which I connect...by which I am inspired. This morning when I sat down to write, there were no words and so I eventually found my way to those Mystery Bookmarks I don't recall capturing. The single link I followed led me to purple and green and words that struck the chord I was seeking.
Amber, not my friend whom I've loved for years, but the one whose blog I bookmarked months ago and forgot about until today, has written a post about perserverance and Hope and the human spirit and strength and survival. Reading her words reminded me that although my challenges are very much my own - and valid and important - they are still surmountable challenges, and while none of my own are remotely similar to Amber's, reading her words forged a connection within me to that strength she poured into her writing. Reading her post, I remembered what I always know, every day, that life is good - beautiful and glorious - even when the details listed in front of me don't feel very good at all.
That's the thing about Hope...
I'll make no attempt to explain to you why her post so moved me. I'd fail miserably, today. But if you're interested, you should go read it. Some of you will be glad you did.