Hope
Volume XVII Number 1




Table of Contents

  • Our Relationship with Vocation
  • Moving Toward Health
  • Who Touched Me?
  • Jorge Luis Borges
  • Activities
  • Extracts from R. Buckminster Fuller's Critical Path
  • Reflections on Bread Making /li>
  • Thoughts For Meditation
  • To the Divine Mother
  • Poetry
  • Winter Prayer


Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.


The little feathered thing that Emily Dickinson describes must have been perching in the human soul for millennia, singing to us, as countless individuals and as the entire human race. What song does it sing in our lives as we step into the next century?

Do we hope for some gift from life or the universe that will ensure a good future for us and for everyone else? The Feature Article, "Our Relationship with Vocation," suggests that a more profound hope is found in a kind of inner trust, a confidence that we each have the capacity to work spiritually, to create meaning within the circumstances of our lives. In Reflections, we see such hope pervade the life of a terminally ill patient, as described by her hospice worker. The life of the Argentine poet Jorge Luis Borges, in Lives of Spiritual Unfolding, also shows us a profound hope, as he continued to write in spite of failing eyesight.

Hope sees value in all aspects of life-both those that seem very elevated and those that appear humdrum. When we reflect, we see how the desire to unfold can be expressed through our thoughts, our emotions, our words, and the beautiful harmonious movement of our bodies, as taught by the Kripalu Yoga teacher interviewed in our Feature Article.

Critical Path, by Buckminster Fuller, reviewed in Resources, overflows with the hope that propelled this genius to direct his energy toward whatever he saw "needs to be done that nobody else is attending to."

Hope is not a static concept, but a dynamic living. When we try to capture it only intellectually, it cannot sustain us. It becomes like the map Borges imagined, which is as large and detailed as the terrain it depicts, and, as such, useless as a map.

Hope is more like a little bird, delicate yet tenacious, who comes to us to sing throughout our lives, never stopping at all.




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