In life, everything is cyclical. There is no night without a morning, no birth without death. Loss eventually finds triumph. We die to who we are so that we might become who we would be. We are not defined by our circumstances nor limited by our expectations. We could die a thousand deaths in one day to awaken to a new sun, new life, new possibilities. It is we who keep alive the struggle, the disappointments, the heartbreaks. For we forget to lay them down at the feet of the moon. It would do us well to relinquish our pains with the setting of the sun, and to awaken like a hopeful child on Christmas morning with a thousand hopes clenched in our fists, and the world at our feet.

No matter how hopeless one feels, there is always hope, it is a part of our existence just as it is the foundation of our journey. Especially to those fortunate enough to live in our country. Amidst the most dire circumstances, we still have the blessing and possibility to go from zero to hero in moments without a cap on our possibilities. In one swoop, we can always find someone who has it worse as well as someone whose footsteps we would give anything to traverse. This assigns us humility and hopeful anticipation, motivation, inspiration. Our nation, as well as many of us as individuals are in a scary place, but in quiet moments, I find excitement. It always takes the death of something ordinary to release something extraordinary. I foresee us exiting the struggle with more depth, more appreciation, more humility and compassion. I foresee power and grace.

There is always rebirth after a storm.

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