The Shrine

     I have a shrine to Hope in my living room. Ever since my diagnosis, these little amulets of Hope have found their way to me. These tchotchkes are a powerful reminder of the human spirit. They elevate my own spirit. They represent the power of the human tendency toward optimism. Even in the darkest hours, humans somehow manage to maintain a spark of belief that things will get better. What is that capability? Faith in the divine? Total denial? Coping mechanism? Maybe all of the above.

    The items in my shrine have personal meaning. They are connected to the giver, an extension of that person to me, an expression of their thoughts for me and wishes for my well-being. The fact that someone else saw this trinket, thought of me and made sure that trinket made it me, imbues that little trinket with powerful mojo for soothing a troubled soul. It is no longer just a trinket, it is now a tangible talisman of Hope. When I arrange my totems, I can feel the wishes for my good health, both physical and metaphysical. That brings me solace and peace. There is no better state of being than that.

 My Shrine