Hope Called by Louise Gallagher Hope called, hold on, she said. Don’t let go. Change, she is a’comin’! I let go not wanting hope or change to come and turn me around into their reflections of a song not of my own composing. Hold on, she said and I let go and fell off the bandwagon where I found my song playing between the notes of a forgotten story I’d whispered to the winds of change long ago about being on the road less travelled by hope and change and their compatriots who would have me hold on to their coattails for fear I’d lose my way on my own. I let go and hope rose and change happened just the way I wrote it in my story long ago.
Change is funny.
Take now. The entire world hopes that change will happen fast. For this virus to go away so life can return to normal. As if all the changes we’ve experienced during these past two years of lockdowns and openings and lockdowns again, and learning to wear a mask to forgetting we’re even wearing it. To distances we dare not cross being crossed because a vaccine makes us feel safer to distancing again because the virus has learned to change enough to cross the distance.
When I was a child, I wanted desperately for the growing up and being older part of life to happen faster. Now, I want desperately for the oldening part to slow down, even just a little bit, so I can savour each moment now without wondering what change will happen next.
And life keeps changing and I do too, in spite of all my wishing and hoping change would just slow down.
Except those changes I want to see happen fast. Like the virus dying. And climate change stopping. And the ongoing fight against racism and inequity, poverty and homelessness, war and senseless deaths by bullets flying from guns held in children’s hands and the hands of their fathers and mothers pointing at those they hate, and crimes against humanity, drug wars and overdoses, the destruction of rainforests, and so many other senseless things we humans do to destroy our planet and harm one another and all creatures big and small. Those changes I want to see happen faster. Faster. Faster.
And then hope calls and says, “Hold on” and I let go of holding on to my belief just thinking about the changes I want to see happen is enough.
For change to happen, I gotta be its agent of possibility. I gotta let go of hope and change my ways to make way for all the change that’s gotta come.
So yeah. Once upon a time, I wished upon a star and hoped change would happen faster so that I could grow up and change the world.
Funny thing, it was never the world that needed to change, it was, and still is, always me.