Hope

There is always hope. Hope that even the worst of times can spawn the greatest awakenings of human spirit.
We’ve been plodding along our current trails so long the destination has become a blurred spot on the map. We’re equating making money with making a life, and with the economy spiraling downward we’re turning, ever so slowly, and making our way back to our centers, to our source. We’re jumping of the treadmill that keeps us running but takes us nowhere, and coming back to what really matters. Family. Home. Nourishment. Love. Laughter. Creating. What our ancestors knew. What so-called third-world countries around the world still know. After all, economic changes rarely affect those who live simply to begin with. I remember my own Grandmother laughing because her family never even realized there was a Great Depression. They were simple people. For them, little changed during those difficult times.
In order to survive, we must come back to what matters most. We must realize that a happy community might be a worthier goal than a global economy. We must realize that our homes are sacred spaces, our children more treasured than any possession. We must realize the value of nurturing those who love and depend on us. We must realize that less stuff can make for an easier life, and that there are greater goals to focus on than the material-driven ideals of the last two decades. Children are the future, and it truly takes a village to raise them. And village is synonymous with community, a lost concept in our current age. But all around the world, women still harbor this ancient knowledge. We still know. We still get excited over births and baby pictures. We still see promise in the swell of a belly, the smile of an expectant mother.
We haven’t lost our ancient knowledge. It’s just been dormant for a very long time. As the economy changes and we’re forced, sometimes reluctantly, to change our lifestyles and our expectations, around the world, we are remembering what others have not forgotten.
As women and especially as mothers, we must realize that we have to come together as a community to make it through. We have to listen to the soul of the earth the way our ancestors did, to know the cycle of nature, to remember that food doesn’t come from a grocery shelf, but from the soil beneath our feet. We have to remember those who lived before us, and those who will come after us. We must remember the wisdom that our grandmothers were taught, and pass it on to our own grandchildren. And we will. No matter how the great circle of life spins, for the sake of our children and those we love, we will come together and when we do, we just might see that this is where we were headed all along.
Back to center, to source.
Back to community. Back to family. Back to nourishment, love, and creation.
Back to what really matters. Back to looking into the eyes of our children and seeing the children that are still to come.
And remembering.

*I wrote this essay to accompany an art piece submitted to a show with the theme, "The Current Economy." Thank you Cassie for encouraging me to look beyond the obvious!