HOPE AND FEAR

January 1, 2009: the beginning of a new year, a time when my heart is filled with equal parts of hope and fear for our country. The hope springs from what will take place on January 20, when Barack Obama is to be inaugurated. This historic occasion brings forth an enormous sense of pride and joy, for having been brought up in the segregated South, I am especially moved—and astonished—that I should live to see an African-American become president of the United States. It is my deepest desire that he and his administration succeed in changing the direction and the agenda of our nation quickly and decisively. We are all aware of how desperately we need that shift, for the past eight years have been disastrous—politically, militarily, economically, and perhaps most significantly, morally.

My fear is that the magnitude of the problems facing our new president will be overwhelming, that the deepening economic recession will reach catastrophic proportions, that we will be drawn into more wars, that our moral leadership on the world stage has been damaged permanently and irreparably. It is my fear that we as a people will become impatient with the inevitable slow pace of change and that we will succumb to hopelessness and despair.

I am struck by parallel feelings regarding my own life. As I enter my ninth decade, both hope and fear reside within me, in almost equivalent shares. This new stage offers changes and challenges, and it is my hope I can face them with courage and good humor, and that I can apply my own recommended measures of acceptance, patience, and detachment. My fear is that, without the specific events, deadlines, or goals such as I had last year, I shall fall into lethargy or ennui, failing to find the kind of stimulation and motivation I seem to need. I too fear falling into hopelessness and despair.

This past year was a momentous one for me. Norm died in March, making me a widow. Had he made it a few more months—until September—we would have been married for sixty years. His death, though not totally unexpected, still left a big vacancy in my life and in my heart. In August I celebrated my eightieth birthday with a glorious party. I felt a great sense of pride and accomplishment when I presented my book, Leafings and Branchings, to my family and friends. At present I have no similar projects to complete nor do I anticipate such significant landmarks this coming year. (Though we never know, do we?)

Last year at this time, I wrote that my intention for the coming year was to be kind. I have tried mightily to fulfill that intention, though I certainly have had some lapses. This year I wish to focus on maintaining hope, on not allowing fear to overcome my natural optimism regarding both the future of our country and my own personal fate. Since it is my belief that our thoughts have power, I intend to make every effort to think hopeful thoughts and thus add to the possibility of a kindler, gentler world and a full, satisfying experience as I continue to live into this late stage of my life.

I close with a quote from one of Norm’s heroes, Albert Einstein: “Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow.”