There’s a quote from the children’s book “Lily’s Purple Plastic Purse” that I keep hanging on my wall and it reads: “today was a difficult day, tomorrow will be better.”

It’s been hard to believe those words this week as I traveled down the East coast away from my home in Boston.

I love traveling and exploring new places, but I’ve felt so disconnected from my loved ones these past few days that I am itching to just hug everyone and never leave the cobblestone streets of the bean ever again.

A few days ago I saw a post on twitter stating the need for a restoration of faith in humanity.

This made me think.

I wanted to respond and tell her that among all this pain and suffering, that incredible things are always happening around the world. But as things unfolded in Boston and the world shook away lives in Japan or explosions continued to occur in third world countries, I found it hard to find the right response. I thought I could tell her about my passion for mental health and the organization I started to put a positive light out there. I could tell her about the good people at To Write Love On Her Arms who surrounded me with love and kindness these past few days; or my friends at Krochet Kids who help women in third world countries live better lives. I could name hundreds of organizations that present hope and optimism for our world, but that didn’t feel like the right response.

Because maybe that isn’t what we need to know right now.

Maybe what we need is beyond a list of good names versus the bad.

This week has sucked. We’ve been through hell. Boston has actually been tortured by the evil that lies within the human capacity. And I’ve caught myself wondering a lot lately – about how I could walk the same streets of the bombers and look at the world and see beautiful people, all the while they see something they want to leave broken. It’s sad; it’s disheartening; and this woman on twitter had such a valid thought: what is wrong with humanity.

On Friday, I took a little break from the world. I spent some time in Orlando, FL with an old family friend – a mother who, back when I was a kid, used to babysit my siblings and I. Once when she was in Ohio, I babysat her three kids for her and we had an adorable moment looking at how things change over time.

I got to see the now four kids after three years. I could’ve cried looking at how big they’ve grown. In my memories they are babies. In my memories Max was 3 months old and sleeping in my lap. Now he’s a ball of energy wanting every bit of my attention.

So I spent the evening playing with four kids, pretending to be animals and that we were the only ones who existed in our make believe world. It was exactly what I needed – to just forget about everything bad for a couple hours; to remember what it was like to be a kid where pain was only felt when you fell off your bike or were stung by a bee.

And then it happened.

I was playing a game with Max. We had three little balls that you had to toss and try to land at a certain point. There were rules and he had a rule book, but only he could read the rules because I wasn’t the keeper of the rules. So he made me close my eyes while he told me these guidelines.

The rules were crazy and they made no sense. There were trees and jungle animals you had to avoid. We were travelers on a mission being given directions to find the secret treasure that could only be unlocked if you made the ball land in a certain way. At one point the ball was supposed to bounce off the ceiling, roll around the diamater of the room, bounce back up to the light and land perfectly in a tiny hole on the other side.

And when Max wasn’t looking, I opened my eyes and peeked over his shoulders while he read aloud from what was simply an address book.

He wasn’t even really reading it. He was staring around the room and I realized we weren’t in the same place. Me, I was in a living room where Wreck It Ralph was playing in the background. But Max – that little boy was in a jungle searching for buried treasure.

I started to tear up. I would’ve cried if it wouldn’t have been weird.

But it was in that moment that I found the answer to restoring our faith in humanity: the simple fact that kids continue to believe in their imagination is reason enough to have hope for a better tomorrow.

Because that means kids can look at the world and still see something amazing and beautiful. As adults, we tend to recognize the darker areas; the places we avoid and the people we’re afraid of. When you grow up the world becomes a scarier place. When you’re a kid, it’s all an adventure you set out on to see how wonderful your journey can be. Holes you fall into lead you to a cave of wonder and the bad guys can’t harm you when you’re stronger and move faster.

We can spend our days in a sorrowful daze wondering how the hell we’re supposed to heal these open wounds, but what I’m learning is that when we face these hardships, it’s important to remember how small all of us once were. Kids don’t know how to wonder about these things yet – about disasters and tragedies. Sure they experience fear, but if you asked me what moments of trauma occurred in the world when I was three, I would have to google it.

Not to say kids don’t feel pain or experience trauma from certain events; what I mean is, I think we can see humanity being restored by looking through the eyes of a child. Those big, beautiful blue eyes that continue to wonder about the world. Those eyes widened by a natural curiosity of the world and of the mind.  Because when you’re little and young you believe that anything is possible – you look at a room and you see a mountain to climb and a swimming pool is a lake infested with snakes you have to battle.

I think we find humanity in our sense of childlike wonder. We have to continue to believe in fairytales; in the books we used to read or how our bikes used to be our pet horse. We have to continue to wonder about the world; to believe in our imaginations because I think it’s in doing that that we are able to see what the rest of the world doesn’t in the darkest of times.

Kids grow up and some become cynical and see a black and white world that runs in a straight line until it ends. Others grow up and never lose that childlike wonder that keeps the color alive; that keeps the rest of the world  dancing, on its toes, waiting to see the light.

Maybe this only makes sense to me. But I think that maybe if we just think about the dreams we had as kids; the imagination that we may have lost; and in restoring that, in continuing to believe in our dreams and in continuing to believe in the kids who will one day grow as tall as us; that those people are going to fix all of this. Because they will carry with them the reality that the people who think they are crazy enough to change the world ( the ones that imagine enough) are the ones that really do.

Don’t give up on your dreams.

Don’t forget about your imagination.

And never stop wondering about the world.

Let’s prevent bullying through music.

Aside from being an adventurer, I’m also an activist for causes I care about; people and music. Which is why my on-for-one business, Hold On Another Day means the world to me because it connects people and causes through music. Music for a cause. Empowering people through music. Giving people hope. In this case, hope comes in the form of a mixtape:

Songs For Project Believe In Me is designed as a support system for people suffering from mental health issues such as anxiety, depression, stress or suicide brought on by problems related to bullying.

So, yeah, that’s right – let’s prevent bullying by listening to positive music and sharing stories of overcoming bullies through lyrics. 

And get this – for every CD sold, one will be donated to a youth counseling program in a high school or middle school where bullying is a prominent issue.

Each of these artists has a story and a message they want you to hear. They overcame bullying and they wrote these songs so you or your friend can overcome the struggle too.

Enough is enough – bullying should not be an issue in a school, at home, on the playground, in an office or anywhere for that matter. Let’s empower ourselves through music and give those suffering something to believe in – like these songs.