No. 1 Hope Springs is a lovely, funny movie and totally worth your time.
No. 2 That is not actually the point of the title of today's FRT.
The actual point is that I am in a good mood.
I feel like this is worth noting after several days of darkness and a pitiful lack of perspective up in here.
I hate when I get that way. And yes I get that way at least once a month, and YES I KNOW WHY and no I am not yelling at you because it's that time of the month, dammit, but OK, maybe that's why, but you should never ever acknowledge it, you jackass.
My mom says that quote a lot and has my whole life, because really the book is one of her favorites and then she indoctrinated me into loving it, too. (This is far superior to being indoctrinated into something like Scientology or the world of beauty pageants.)
Side note: The other story she made me love is an English fairy tale titled Master of all Masters. I read it often enough as a child that, even now as an adult, the phrase "Unless you get some pondalorum high topper mountain will be all on hot cockalorum" just pops into my head for no good reason.
Anyway, this week has been all about me moaning and groaning about how my dreams have gone up in hot cockalorum and asking myself what exactly is the point of ever leaving high topper mountain or putting on my squibs and crackers ever again.
But today the sun is shining. I got up and put on my pants.
And I do not feel helpless or hopeless.
The story of Sylvester is that he found a magic pebble but, before he could wish for something grand and exciting, he came across a lion and, in his fear, he wished to become a rock. This way he could remain still and silent while the danger passed him by. But when he became a rock he lost his ability to hold onto the magic pebble and so he was unable to change back into what he was before. He was paralyzed by his fear.
And there right beside him was the magic pebble, the key to setting him free.
But when you are stuck in your stillness, in your silent place where you have hidden because of fear, the answer can be right next to you but you just can't reach it. The thing you have used to protect yourself from the world can also leave you apart from the world.
That's as far as I'll go with my analogy about how I am a donkey who has turned herself into a rock out of fear.
Today, the sun came out and it is just a fact that I am made for sunshine. I'm pretty sure in an alternate universe I live at the beach and I am a bartender at an outdoor bar at some resort and I can do all sorts of tricks by flinging the bottles into the air.
I might be confusing Alternate Universe Me with Tom Cruise in Cocktail.
You don't realize how lovely hope is until it returns to you, swiftly and unexpectedly, after a long time spent in the dark believing that nothing good will ever happen again.
I got up and I got dressed and I went to lunch with my friend Jen, who is one of the many answers I land on when I go searching for good reasons to keep writing for this blog, when I wander around muttering, "What's the point?" Jen is one of the people in the Weirdly Positive Zombie Treehouse and I wouldn't have found her friendship if not for the blog.
Meeting a friend for lunch on a Friday and talking for three hours is one of life's many joys.
Earlier today I told my mom about something that might happen but looks like it won't (this is the story of my life lately), and I said, "For today, I'm really OK with it if it doesn't work out."
Now, tomorrow I might not be. In 28 days, I might cry about all the things that aren't working out like it's the end of the world.
But for today, hope is alive. I remember what it feels like to believe good things aren't just possible, but probable.
Keep moving. Don't wish yourself into stillness. Put that magic pebble in your pocket and grasp it in your hand when it gets dark and rainy and you find yourself forgetting how to hope.
Life is full of good things if you put on your damn pants and get out of the house and into the sunshine.