When I process the world, I often think of skiing, for teaching skiing is how I spent most of my adult years. Whenever I wanted to make a change, if the change was too big, too steep, too icy, too complicated, it was frustrating, confusing and often resulted in deterioration rather than improvement. 

 

 

... And yet, in a gentle place, with one clear focus, a clear image, someone to follow, a vision to hold in mind, change came more easily - every time.

And  I often have thought that if we were inundated with examples of hope, small and large, tiny differences to join in with, small steps to emulate towards a shared beautiful vision, that would be a powerful thing.

 

You are blessed with a beautiful imagination, capable certainly of fearing the worst, but capable equally of dreaming up the best. Wherever your heart feels grounded with hope, restored with a beautiful vision, let yourself spend time there - mentally or physically. 

 

 

A restored heart, connected with visions of hope is everything we need. Your hopes and dreams are a gift to this world.

 

 

I’m not a gardener at all, but I’ve been inspired by Friday evenings spent with Monty Don and the magic of my parent’s garden and veggie patch. Often my thoughts of hope lie in tiny seeds making their way into something new. I love to imagine a future where towns are made up of thriving independent shops and cafes along streets filled with wildflowers, green spaces and seats... Community gardens and shared vegetable patches where local cafes make food from the things grown right there. The lovely feeling of knowing many people to say hello to, quick chats and little smiles. Time for slow joys and creative pursuits. Time to listen to others without haste. Time to be with those we love. These are just some of the things I dream of when I think of tiny seeds in the garden, when I think of hope. 

 

And like a greenhouse, your beautiful mind can be a warm space where seeds of hope can grow. They deserve to be watered and loved every day, because maybe what we’re all dreaming of is not so different.

 

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— Lorna Gibson