Yet hope is this horizon ...

Train Depot in Hope, Ark. (May 27, 2006)

I gotta love any photo that depicts me in full dorkdom, and this one succeeds quite nicely, I believe.

: )

The title of this post comes from “Speeding with Dom,” a poem by Bob Zordani that I keep going back to over the years because, from various times, lines from it keep resonating with me, within me and then all around me.

I’m pretty sure I have always been a pretty hopeful person. Well, maybe not when I was 9 or 10; those years, if not for a teacher whom I adored and the precious refuge of school, I’m not quite sure what abyss I would’ve tumbled into. And, OK, yeah, there were some dark days in college, most of them enhanced by a raging hangover that tinged the edges of my journey toward self-awareness. And then there were a few months a little over four years ago, not that far removed from 9/11 and my own personal disasters, during which I wasn’t all that hopeful about anything, really.

Aside from those and random moments scattered along the way, I can’t complain. I consider myself to be an optimist. While my mom has always cautioned me to “hope for the best, but expect the worst,” I have pretty much always taken this approach: “Hope for AND expect the best — who knows, life just might surprise you!”

I feel especially hopeful today, and I honestly believe I owe that to my friends. Old and new, faraway and near (distance- and closeness-wise). And, of course, my family members, many of whom I don’t see nearly as often as I should, but all of whom have always been so incredibly supportive that I know, without them throughout the years, I would not be the person I am today.

(Is this starting to sound like an acceptance speech, or is it just me?!)

: )

I’ve heard it said that when one door closes, another one opens. I’ve always thought that statement was a little overly optimistic, even for me, but the events over the past several months are starting to convince me otherwise. I have made a new friend at work (Susan, my crossword cohort) and a new friend online (Jane, who is far cooler — and everything that goes along with it! — than I could ever hope to be), and what these new friends have done for me is make me even more optimistic and hopeful about my life.

They make me want to throw open all the doors (side, front and back, even!) and the windows and open myself up to the world of possibilities. They remind me how blessed I truly am to know all the people I know (and love), all of whom give me hope, every day.

Yet hope is this horizon,
the swing of stars and seasons.
So tonight let’s howl at the moon,
whirl among stubbled fields,
through gulleys and creek beds,
over barbed wire and electric fences,
whirl, whirl like gods gone mad!