... is the fodder for hope.
Sometimes, in remembering who I am, I forget. But, sometimes, I think it's a good thing, forgetting who I am. It breaks the contentment and forces me to search for answers, answers I never really knew I needed.
It plows the field to prepare for a new crop of hope.
I wish I could say my new crop has completely sprouted. Some of it has, but I have the feeling that there's some more despair to feel before the entire field has germinated. I could be wrong.
I hope so.
On verra ...