ATTA BOY
Friday, June 24, 2022
Hope is full – that’s why they call it being hopeful.
And when we see someone exhibiting hopefulness, we say, “atta boy.”
Did we give any away yesterday, or will you today?
I mean kindness, smiles, some kind words – how many did you we distribute?
You know what I mean – a simple gesture, to be kind, slap someone on their emotional back, reward them for just being alive, making their way through something challenging?
Hey, atta boy!
Hope is full.
Having no hope isn’t hopeful; that is running on empty.
We plant seeds, don’t we?
We plant seeds of hope or doubt – we do this with our attitude more than our words as we coach – contentment or discontent.
Which will it be today, for me and thee, who will we make laugh, who will we make cry, who will we lift – who will we walk across, walk over, step over, or look down upon?
Sitting by an open window, I love the sound of that half-hour before sunrise. Birds, like a cooperating United Nations, are making speeches to each other about the coming day.
They’re chirping the morning news, that the sun will soon be here, that it’s time to wake up.
I need to walk, need to see that sunrise – but I hold back and sip some more coffee because those encouraging bird words are lifting my spirits too, telling me that everything good is about to blossom forth, that nothing too-tough to deal with will mess with my day. Atta boy!
Affirmation of our spirit is not a disconnect from reality. More like underlining it deeply with a purple felt tip marker – boldly reinforcing the boldness in every step of every path every person walks.
Or crawls.
There is hope from when we slithered out of primordial ocean soup or when we crawled out of bed this morning; there is hope.
Where there is hope, you’ll find joy.
C’mon, you can do it …
Atta boy!