Hope

 Today, a much-desired outcome slipped from my grasp, leaving instead a choice I not only didn't want, but also feared. A choice with potentially dire outcomes and repercussions beyond my little corner of the world. 

But I still have hope. It's tiny -- a wisp of a thing, really -- seemingly hard to grasp and easy to lose. 

And, to tell the truth, it is both.

But it's mine. And, unless I relinquish it, it stays with me. It comforts me, brings me perspective, and reminds me that while my peace of mind can be disrupted, it cannot be corrupted unless I allow that to happen.

An illusion, you say. Perhaps even a delusion?

Maybe. But I believe hope is as real as I make it. 

By itself, hope cannot effect a change, turn back a clock, or change an outcome. But it can help me effect a change, find light in the darkness, or make a change. It can extend a hand, pull me out of the quicksand, and remind me that one outcome determines neither my power nor my value.

And so I will hope. Relentlessly. I will nurture that tiny wisp of a thing, clinging on to it stubbornly even if -- especially if -- someone tries to wrest it away. I will use it as fuel on the days when I cannot muster up enough power to drag myself out of the muck and onto dry land.

Though it is small, it is powerful -- immune to dissolution through tears, anger, or criticism -- and always large enough to be shared.

And I will gladly share mine with you.