The Stubborn Spark: Why Hope Is My Kind of Beautiful
After talking about how we learn to bloom wherever we’re planted, I’ve been thinking a lot about what fuels that blooming. What keeps us going, especially when the ground feels shaky? And the answer, for me, keeps coming back to one word: hope.
Now, I'm not talking about that easy, breezy kind of hope that just comes naturally when everything is going perfectly. That's a nice kind of hope, for sure. But I'm talking about the stubborn kind of hope. The one that digs its heels in and refuses to let go, even when it feels like there’s not much to hold onto.
Living through challenging times, you realize that hope isn't always a feeling that washes over you; sometimes, it’s a conscious choice. It’s an act of will. It's deciding to believe that even a tiny flicker of light is enough to keep the total darkness at bay. It’s nurturing that little spark inside you, even when the wind tries its best to blow it out.
This act of choosing hope, of holding onto it, feels incredibly feminine to me. We, as women, often have this incredible capacity to nurture life, to envision futures, to keep a little bit of light burning for those we care about, and for ourselves. It’s a quiet strength, like a deep root that helps you stand firm even when the storm rages. It’s in planning a simple, small picnic next week, even if you’re not sure where you’ll be. It’s in planting a new seed, trusting it will grow. It’s in believing that kindness will still win, even if it’s a long fight.
That stubborn spark of hope, that refusal to give in to despair, that’s a profound kind of beauty. It's not flashy, it's not loud, but it's essential. It's the silent declaration that life, and love, and light, will always find a way. And to me, that’s truly beautiful.
Holding onto that spark,
Vladyslava