One surreal day, I decided to start a hope revolution in the middle of the street. I was in lower Manhattan, surrounded by crowds of gawkers and double parked news trucks outside the loft where Heath Ledger had been found dead. In my pocket was a not so cryptic hate letter I had found in a nearby coffee shop earlier that morning, directed at anyone who might be compassionate towards a homeless person outside the window.

While the crowds and the note may have seemed much smaller to me any other day, they happened to occur at a very low point in my life, and made me question why I bothered to keep going in the face of such blatant unkindness. I was still carrying the heavy weight of irreversible decisions I'd made in my life, and was faced with new ones that I didn't yet have answers for. For months prior to this day, I was plagued by insomnia and finding it hard to just get up in the morning, let alone deal with a world so... unwelcoming. I felt like hope was slipping through my fingertips, and that distinct moment I decided to do something about it.

I wrote some of my own notes and left the first in the same coffeehouse.

The next day, I wrote about it on my blog and inadvertently inspired others who heard about it to do the same in their cities.

Writing these notes has given me hope that connection is possible, even if we aren't usually there to witness connection or the effect it has on the person who stumbles across it. It makes me feel... human. Or, in soulsister Jen Lemen's words,"more grounded in the story of kindness holding us all."

I hope you'll join us at www.hoperevo.com