My husband’s parents recently traveled from the Midwest to visit with us and to meet their first great grandchild, Eloise, just two months old. We had last been together 15 months earlier, just before the start of the pandemic, back when we took hugs, travel, and many other things for granted. Now we had a healthy baby, and four generations of vaccinated family together in the same room, which, after all we had been through, felt as reassuring and hopeful as a soft summer morning with a hermit thrush singing in the nearby woods. Even tiny Eloise appeared to understand the specialness of their visit, as her dark eyes locked on her great grandparents’ faces with a look that conveyed, “You are my people.“
Months earlier, when Eloise was still nestled in the womb, I started a second painting after a long break (I wrote about this in my last blog post). It was early February and I was already dreaming of spring, so I began with a desire to showcase one of the most treasured native plants in our spring woods, the lady slipper, Cypripedium acaule. As happens when I work intuitively, other elements arrived into the painting, most significantly and not surprisingly, a young woman who was ‘with child’.
I didn’t set out to do so but I instinctively chose a warm brown skin tone for the woman, and when I finished her I felt a stirring, as if I already knew her. It was then that I recognized her posture as that of Amanda Gorman’s, the inaugural poet who had stunned me—and much of the world—with her brilliance, confidence, and grace at the presidential inauguration a few weeks before I made the painting. For days after the event I had watched her performances, listened to her interviews, and read articles about her story and creative process, all which gave me more hope than I had felt in a long time. It delighted me that she—and all that she symbolized—had materialized in the painting.
In exploring the topic of hope for this post, I came across hope researcher Shane Lopez, whose work revealed that the default position of the brain at rest is ‘thinking about the future.’ “Daydreaming is our natural state,” he said, “And when we think about the future, we are making memories of the future.” I loved hearing that hope is not an emotion, but rather, a practice, and that we can encourage our hopeful daydreams to shape our future. I learned this (again) around the time I was working on the painting featured in this post, when my son’s partner’s pregnancy took a serious turn for the worse, leading to long weeks of nail biting and dread for all of us. Caught in the recurring loop of angst, I realized that I could try to stop worrying about my future daughter-in-law’s mental and physical health, and instead picture all the ways she could heal and become the loving mother and partner she longed to be. (That was months ago, and while the process is ongoing, the little family is bonding beautifully.)
Intuition guided me to include another element in the painting: a fawn who ventured onto the same path as the woman. The animal’s presence provided a moment of wonder and delight. In addition, the soft, warm colors and ethereal light of the image render a daydream quality. Who wouldn’t want to wander into this scene? I now realize that I was intuitively creating a vision—or memory, as Lopez describes—of the future, one infused with the hope I needed to feel during the uncertain weeks before Eloise’s birth.
One other tidbit stood out in my research on hope—two lines from a poem by Emily Dickinson:
Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul.
In other words, sometimes hope lands unexpectedly, like Amanda Gorman with her stunning words; like the pink flash of the lady slipper along the woodland path; or the surprise spotting of a fawn in the forest, all which lift your heart and remind you of the expansiveness that pure, uncontrived beauty convey.
Though it is always delightful when unexpected hope arrives, it helps to cultivate the mindset of a receiver. I do this by making space in my mind and heart each day, by noticing the signs of stress—impatience, small-mindedness, rapid speech, irritability—that crowd out my intention to be soft and open. If I’m aware of one or more of these elements, I try to slow my breathing or movement for a few moments, or, if there’s time, a few minutes. It helps to step outside at some point each day and listen. Is there a bird or chipmunk chattering? A breeze brushing past my cheek? Sunlight on a leaf—anything that brings my attention to something simple, real, and in the present. When that isn’t possible, usually in the deep of night, I hold my hands over my heart and picture a flow of loving warmth entering me. With years of practice, I’ve trained myself to believe in and receive that universal love. We all have access to such comfort and to the hope that sometimes perches alongside it.
Diane Schivera
Such encouraging thoughts Maureen. I’ll try to keep them in mind. Thanks! And love to you.
Maureen Egan
We all learn from each other. Thanks for reading and responding. Be well!
Robin Brawn
So lovely Maureen. Thanks for sharing your process in this blog post. I, too, felt HOPE when I heard Amanda Gorman’s poem at the inauguration. Love, Love, Robin
Maureen Egan
Thanks so much for leaving a comment. I am glad to know you are part of the Amanda Gorman fan club!
Carol Miller
Maureen, that is so beautiful! Thank you for sharing. I so love I got to visit with Eloise. Your words are a lovely reminder that we get more of what we focus on. Changing my focus is my work-literally and figuratively . Tons of love to you and all of your family.
Maureen Egan
Thank you, Carol. You are a shining example of someone creating hope’s daydream!
Clare Delmar
How lovely. We do live in a beautiful world!
Maureen Egan
Thank you, Clare. You are one of the best appreciators I know!
Elphie Owen
Mo- you have chosen such great reminders: that poem of Ms. Gorman’s, the lady slipper, and that golden path in the painting! Nothing like a path disappearing into the woods. I am so interested in “daydreaming as a memory of the future.” As you may know, I am a firm believer that the images we carry harbored within us do in fact take shape or shape us, either individually or in the aggregate. That is why it is so important to create stories and images from the well of humanity, such as you have done with your paintings, my friend. Onward with your brave work. XXOXOXO Elphie
Maureen Egan
I’ve always loved the notion that before you can do something you need to imagine it. Many years ago I had a dream of walking into an apartment with paintings all over the walls and then I realized when I woke up that my imagination had made all those paintings. That dream help me to step into becoming an artist relatively late in life, and without any training. I figured that all those paintings were in my imagination somewhere and that if I worked hard enough they would make their way out!
Tace
Thank you, Maureen. Your words are a beautiful gathering of all that is wise, clear, strong, peaceful and loving, so movingly portrayed in your forest painting. A loving Presence that speaks to us all from the heart!
Maureen Egan
Thank you, Tace. Your words are a soothing balm of acknowledgement, and I’m grateful you took the time to read and respond.
Kate O'Neill
Hi Maureen, I’m so happy to have received an email about your blog! I’m looking forward to reading all of your posts. I’m thrilled to see your art and writing getting more and more out into the world! Your updated website is great! The only thing I can think of that you might want to add is a “subscribe to my blog” button. (is there a way to subscribe to your blog?)
I love your work – whether painting or writing. Sending my love.
Maureen Egan
I’m delighted to hear from you, Kate! Thanks for reading and responding so enthusiastically! You are already subscribed to my blog and will receive periodic notifications in the future.
PS. I’m a snail blogger, and it takes time to make the journey toward a completed piece, lol.
Bridget
M, this has given hope, my niece is in the hospital with a pregnancy issue she may be there for weeks. The idea that hope is a practice is very comforting…something I can “do”. Am going to look into Shane Lopez’s work.
Thank you dear friend.
Maureen Egan
I’m so glad that my offering has arrived in time to encourage you to ‘practice’ hope. May all be well.
Audrey
Your blog is like a wonderful walk in the woods – you go in stressed and come out refreshed.
Thank you Maureen.
Maureen Egan
Your comment made me so happy. If I can provide refreshment as you described, I’ve done what I’d hoped to do.
Thank you, Audrey, and be well.
Gloria
This is just beautiful Maureen, I’m so glad I happened upon it today. I feel your words stirring the wings of hope within my heart.
Thank you for continuing to be a shining light in our world. Blessings xoxo
Maureen
Thank you, Gloria. May your hopeful wings find freedom in their flight!
We are here to remind each other of our light.
Be well,
Maureen
Judi Valentine
I love how you set up nature in it’s full form to receive those daydreams.
My favorite quote from Amanda:
for while we have our eyes on the future, history has its eyes on us.
A lesson in manifesting a responsible future.
xoJude
Maureen Egan
Thanks for this wisdom, and for sharing another golden line from Amanda. Be well, Judi!
liz
Beautiful. Your painting, your words, and you.
I love you, Mo.
Maureen Egan
Thanks for all this loveliness. Sending love back to you, Liz!
Nan O’Connor
Dearest Maureen,
Thank you for your beautiful and inspiring art and your inspiring message of hope! Sending gratitude and love!
Maureen Egan
I’m delighted to hear from you, Nan, and grateful for your words.