What does hope look like?

Dear Reader,

Please bear with me today. My heart is broken.

We wake to news every day that threaten all that we believe about this nation—separation of powers, the right to free speech, the right to be free of police interference, guardrails meant to protect the people, guardrails that are being ignored in broad daylight.

Can we imagine a future for this nation? Ordinary kindness. Justice. Yesterday, I read about the punitive announcement by the executive that it will freeze billions in federal funds already awarded to New York City for two enormous infrastructure projects that will affect the entire region.

Plunder one of the great cities in the United States. Self-destruct the nation. Six months ago, I was worrying about the future of my grandchildren and their world. The pace has accelerated. I worry now about the immediate present of my grown children—and everyone. The lives and well-being of people who have been living here and contributing to this nation for almost all their lives.

Needs as indispensable as health insurance, personal safety, work, the right to say what you need to say.

Today is a day of prayer in the Jewish tradition, repeating rituals of generations. Seeking spiritual restoration. My heart, I hope will be restored to some measure of function. I am seeking light.

Thank you, dear friend, for listening to me today.

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Some Spanish words for hope and despair:

(la) decepción—heartbreak
(la) separación de poderes—separation of powers
(la) seguridad personal—personal safety
(el) trabajo—work
(la) bondad—kindness
(la) justicia—justice
(la) esperanza—hope

I will return to you this coming week with a smile. I have been working on a recent interview with a spirited young woman who works at a non-profit. Her job is to inspire local companies to use their resources to benefit the communities where they do business. It’s a story about people of good will and people making changes in their own lives.

Hasta pronto. Until very soon. Muah!