Hope- Tender Or Audacious?
I love how audacious spring is. No matter the harsh season that preceded, one day, it suddenly, unabashedly, tumbles forward, with tender shoots of possibility; hope personified. It never looks back, and it never holds back.
We are in that liminal space between winter chill and summer heat, between lockdown and vaccines, between pivoting and landing. I’m walking in the tender green that is unfolding around me, astounded at the enthusiasm that it bursts forward with. It responds to the mere hint of opportunity and, without hesitation, throws itself open to possibility.
Daffodils emerge, birds return, squirrels chatter, buds burst.
I’m enchanted. Each looks so fragile.
The sweet little shoots poking their noses up, root with such tenderness in my heart.
I check on them every day.
But these shoots are much more than fragile things. They are also audacious, spurred on by relentless energy that is willing to boldly take the risk and lean into the desire to bloom at all costs. Vulnerable and defiant in a willingness to BE.
For me, they are the embodiment of hope, tender and audacious at the same time.
Hope without tenderness is an insistent expectation. It is hard fast, unwavering and inflexible. Hope without audacity has no backbone. It is limp, passive and waning.
Spring is melting, and so am I.
My heart grew weary over long days of darkness, cold, sharp winds, the insistence of Covid. It is feeling its own pulsating beat again.
I admit that at first, hope makes me nervous.
In these in-between spaces, I feel untethered.
The intensity of vulnerability and daring is daunting. I sit in hope for big things and little things - the worldwide dialogues on equality, for the taming of Covid, the renewal of my relationships, the reemergence of my retreats, finding a loving home for my foster kitten. Each is dear to me, and it seems each filled me with equal worry and want.
Tender and audacious, I’m trying to sit in the paradox of both.
And when I do, something thrilling happens.
There is alchemy in the joint space of vulnerability and conviction. I notice effervescent energy emerge in this authentic place of being. This is the same feeling I get when I walk under the spring blossoms; of life bubbling up to the surface.
I am equally tender and audacious and from that I stand in truth and beauty. It is with this energy that I wish to re-emerge into my day-to-day life.
Those bubbles, fragile and yet so clearly set on reaching the top of my glass?
I want that to stand as the symbol of my spirit in this post-pandemic era.
I chose hope.
Tender and Audacious.
Tania