I've been holding out on putting up my favorite Klimt, a bit like I hold off wearing my very favorite shirt too often. I want it to feel special every time I slip it on. I need that. This Klimt is called 'Hope' - isn't it perfectly named? I think so. Every month, by some miracle well beyond my understanding, I am reminded of what is possible. The idea that my womb can be home to a life beginning just blows me away. I mean, how wild is that? And where that possibility exists, there lies hope and it's free.
Now, freedom is a fickle thing, and which one of us can be certain what freedom tastes like? Kristopherson had it right, in my opinion. Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose. So, which one of us, in our heart of hearts, would choose freedom over feeling connected and knowing that we belong? Attached, it's harder to lose our way, and I suspect that if we did, someone would send out a search party. At least, one can hope.