“Vengeance is a lazy form of grief.” – Ku saying

Last week, my friend Lindsay messaged me, “I feel like Rachel in 2016 right now and it’s exhausting.” She remembers that 2016 was a year with a lot of grief and change. It was the year my dad started radiation treatment for his metastasized colon cancer, my divorce was finalized, and I moved out of my house and began a whole, new chapter of my life. I didn’t even mention the 2016 elections. To say 2016 was a doozy would be a severe understatement.

Unfortunately, I think most of us feel that 2020 is way worse. Do I even need to spell out the “C-word”? There’s also more unarmed black men and women being murdered, millions of people out of work, civil discord, and vitriol around a political election. Wildfires started burning sacred national forests and then Chadwick Boseman (aka Black Panther) passed away and it’s only September 3. No wonder our country is tired. And we are weary.

We’re taking it out on each other because we’re stressed, worried, and in need of more sleep (maybe that’s just me?). It’s been the perfect storm for the volcano of disagreement to finally erupt.

To add to it, my dad finally lost his battle with cancer, other friends lost their parents, loved ones of friends are fighting diseases of all kinds, and couples are breaking up. I was recently with a group of friends where some hard news was shared and I simply let out a “F%$K 2020” because really, that was the only appropriate response. (I think we can all agree 2020 warrants a lot of cussing.)

Like 2016, I am clinging to the one thing I know will pull me through: hope.

I wrote this back then and it still holds true today:

…I feel like my life is a seesaw. There are weights and burdens dragging it down and I am intentionally, consciously, and unapologetically counter balancing those things with…things that are life-giving and bring me joy. Because there is something to the whole “choose joy” idea I believe in whole heartedly. This life is full of heavy things – in my case, navigating life post-divorce and being responsible for the care of my dad who is dying – but there is a lever that allows me to lift things much heavier than I would be able to on my own. I can manipulate the amount of energy exerted to give rise to the burdens just like the fulcrum of a seesaw does. This lever is called hope.

If you’re struggling to find hope today, it’s ok. I promise it will come if you actively pursue it. Look at squirrels for some inspiration. They’re not worried about where their next meal is coming from. Call a friend you haven’t talked to in a while. Reach out to that person who always lifts you up. And if you don’t know one, I’m here for you. My well of hope runs deep and I love drawing from it and doling it out.

And if all else fails, take a nap. I think we could use a collective group nap, don’t you? I’ll grab my blanket and be right over.

[Photo: Me at Lake McLeod in the Mammoth area during a much-needed vacation a couple of weeks ago.]