Never forget your magic.
Never forget you’re magic.
Pandora was the first woman on Earth, created by Zeus. She was endowed by the Gods, graced with beauty and an inquisitive mind. Zeus bestowed upon her a box, instructing her to never open it. But humans are curious by nature, so she peeked inside. Out flew every misery that we now know: pain, war, injustice, hatred, plague, misfortune, grief. In horror, Pandora slammed the box lid closed, but not before every miseries had escaped. The only thing left in the box was hope, where it rests to this day.
2023 was supposed to be my year. It was my golden jubilee, and I was celebrating with a trip to Italy that had been rescheduled twice due to covid. I was launching my baby bird from the nest and out into the world, finally regaining my house and alone time.
But humans plan and the gods laugh. What should have been an epic year was instead Pandora’s box, an onslaught of personal misery, one of the most stressful and disappointing years of my life. Life has been a little wobbly since 2019, and I know I’m not the only one that was ready to see 2023 in the rearview. On top of our personal heartaches, we’re also processing the collective trauma of constant global conflict, racial injustice, inflation, and climate-related disasters. You know things are bad when even Darryl Hall and John Oates no longer speak.
So I’ve been thinking about hope and how we can lean into it, how we as a species can remain soft even when the world demands a hardened heart. Hope implies anticipation, an expectation that the days ahead might just indeed be brighter. I asked the universe to send me a sign of hope and promised I would be open to whatever showed up.
The universe sent me an autocorrect.
My best friend’s mother has been battling cancer all year, with every surgical and chemotherapy complication it’s possible to have during treatment. Pneumonia. UTIs. Blood clots. Collapsed lung. Confusion and passing out. Literally just one unceasing nightmare after another. I was texting Alli to remind her to take care of herself too while in her on-going survival state.
Instead of survival state, my phone sent revival state.
From survival to revival, the message I so needed. From the early 15th century word reviven, it means to live again, regain consciousness, recover health, and awaken.
All things I could really use right now. All things humanity needs right now. Let us all know more health and happiness. Let us all feel more alive, more full of hope. Let us all awaken from our sleep to build a brighter world.
