Piece written for Sunday Assembly on 1st April, 2018
[Edinburgh’s secular congregation, meeting regularly to celebrate life, build community and help everyone live life as fully as possible.]
"I’ve been in a quandary over what to share this morning, as I had something else sort-of prepared. I initially wanted to share a blog I’d written on grief, and more specifically the energy of grief, but then life happened, in all it’s challenging glory, and something else is on my mind instead.
I’ve been compelled to think about hope this week, and I wanted to share some thoughts around that, some of things that happened this week, and in particular when it’s harder to feel hopeful.
My wife and I are 4.5 years into a long journey of fertility treatment to help us have a baby. We had some more disappointing news this week, which has made me question the purpose of hope more than ever, even from my very privileged corner of this world.
For me, this journey has been a rather manipulative process, with nurses, drugs and my own body conspiring to generate hope whilst also leading us to these crescendo moments of disappointment. And in the moments, days and weeks that follow, we need to somehow find hope again.
In my working life, I organise events and support for the LGBTQ community, and work lots with trans and non-binary people. Yesterday was Scotland’s first ever Trans Pride, and over 400 people marched, came together in dismal weather conditions, in solidarity. Before the march, I hosted a breakfast social event for about 70 folk, and spoke with a woman I know, who told me that doctors have discovered a minor heart condition, that will delay her previously imminent access to reassignment surgeries indefinitely.
The help she desperately needs, to feel some peace and comfort in this world, seems very far away. She’s already waited a very long time, and through that journey, has built up a lot of hope. She was tired and upset, but she came out in the rain and marched.
So it makes me wonder, how do we learn to trust and have faith again, when hope has come and gone. Is its purpose to set us up for a fall? Or is it nature’s way of helping us get up and keep going?
Hope for me, is a tenacious, crafty little light saber of a feeling, that finds the cracks of the fortress I’ve begun to build and defends my right to keep on keeping on.
The woman from yesterday and I, stood together and simply agreed that finding hope can be hard, even when we’re doing our best. In that simple moment of shared understanding, I felt comfort. I felt grateful and I was gifted some perspective.
It was a reminder to me, that we’re all vulnerable at times, but we all have this incredible ability to find connection and commonality with each other. By being there yesterday morning, despite feeling like I hadn’t much to give, there were unexpected moments of healing and comfort.
When I was feeling the weight of the disappointment this week, I reached out to my little brother, who lives 500 miles away. He is my go-to guru when I need a pep talk. Just to finish, I wanted to share with you, some of the words in a voice message that he sent, in case you, like me, could use some encouragement at the moment.
“Sister B, I’m really sorry to hear things didn’t work out this time. I’m not really sure what to say, other than it doesn’t seem fair does it? You’re trying really hard; you’re doing all the right things. But I guess, you’ve got to keep having faith in life. It has its twists and its turns and the journey isn’t written yet. We only know what’s going on right now, and that’s just happened for you, but you’ve already moved on. Life is a flow. Keep loving doing the things you love, keep loving the people you love and the joy will catch up with you”
He then got self-conscious and made himself laugh and it made me laugh to listen to it."
