DEAR KRISTIN: I was recently laid off from my job. I’ve had about a month to pick my jaw up from the ground and process some of my initial shock and anger, but what’s moving inside of me now is equally painful: I have lost my purpose. I no longer feel relevant. I refuse to sign my letter to you “IRRELEVANT,” so I’ll sign it, instead, as “HOPEFUL.”

DEAR HOPEFUL: I want you to go back and read the words you wrote to me again. Then read them one more time. Then one more time after that. There is one word within your letter that will help propel you through this pain, and it’s the very last word you wrote: “HOPEFUL.”

What you have experienced is not just the crushing crisis of job loss but the resulting crisis of confidence that follows such a major trauma -- two separate and distinct challenges that are closely (and dangerously) intertwined.

Honor the integrity of them both. Feel your feelings in all of their fullness -- the shock, the anger, the humiliation -- but don’t stay stuck within them because they will deplete you. Emotions like this can get greedy.

The fact that this beautiful word called “hope” still lives within your heart is, well, it is everything. Let it linger there and comfort you. But set a target for yourself -- identify and delineate an achievable deadline -- for when you begin to transform and manifest your hope into something new: Action.

The thing about the word “hope” is that it is not just a noun, it’s an action verb -- just like “love.” We can’t afford to simply let hope (or love) just linger in our hearts. Lingering is not enough. We must push these words into action. So get out your jumper cables, Beloved, and jump-start your hope. Transform that hope into action. A few suggestions:

Beyond the mechanical process of setting up interviews and reaching out to prospective employers, you must also feed your soul and nurture your psyche, for both have been damaged. Remind yourself every day (every minute, if necessary) that you are worthy, deserving, and of value. Say the words out loud if the spirit moves you. Write them down on a sticky-note so that they’re the first thing you see when you wake up every morning. No matter what else happens around you, hold fast to the knowledge that you are uniquely blessed and marvelously gifted.

Make sure this is the mindset that lives within you; it will show when you walk into that next interview. A healthy mindset must be your coat of armor. Prospective employers pick up on self-doubt; it carries a scent that can easily be sniffed out.

Our setbacks end up being our victories if we train ourselves to rightly relate to them. Trauma is inevitable. It’s our ability to transform that trauma into something more productive that will deepen our character and expand our vision. Keep feeding that hope that lives within you. But don’t stop there.

Transform that hope into actionable behavior.

DEAR KRISTIN: My former college roommate reached out to me a few days ago to tell me she’s about to relocate to my town. I cringed when I heard it, because in college, at least, she was one of the most negative people I’d ever known. When I would leave our dorm room each morning on the way to class and say, “Have a great day!”, she’d answer, “What the hell’s going to be so great about it?”

You’ll notice I describe her as my “former” college roommate because I eventually had to move out: Her energy was just too dark. I want to at least be hospitable and see her when she moves here, but I can’t allow her proclivity for pessimism to knock me off balance. Any guidance? -- BALANCED AND WANT TO STAY THAT WAY

DEAR BALANCED: Sounds like you’ve already established some vital boundaries and set some critically important intentions. That’s half the job right there! But remember that intention-setting must be followed by decisive action. You can set your intentions until the cows come home, but unless you move yourself to action when the situation demands it, you render those intentions inert.

Create an action plan long before she arrives. Customize your own “Escape Hatch.” Identify your closest Emergency Exit, if you will, so that if she does happen to show all those jagged edges of negativity again, all you have to do is pull your rip cord and parachute the hell out of that Hospitality Plane. Hospitality has its limits, after all.

As human beings sharing this same planet, we all have a responsibility to shine our light and spread our love, but when that love is met with unrelenting pessimism and toxicity, it’s time to redirect our trajectory. I do realize that negative forces exist in the world, but we need not be held hostage to them.

Negative energy does have its place though, and as long as it doesn’t surround us for protracted periods of time, being exposed to its sting can actually be a blessing of sorts, because it helps us understand and appreciate the presence of positive energy in its fullest and most complete sense. You can’t really, fully know something in its most authentic sense without also knowing its opposite, yes? Having touched the texture of deep grief, for instance, helps me appreciate the highest heights of joy. Polar opposites actually help define one another. The trick is in balancing and integrating the two.

The same holds true with negative and positive energy. It sounds like your old roommate’s negative energy might have been instrumental in propelling you toward a more positive mindset -- you moved out, didn’t you? -- which may be one reason you’re so wonderfully protective of your positive space today.

You are right to guard your goodness with fierce devotion. Refuse to let anybody or anything come between you and your inner light. This doesn’t mean you should stop spreading your light. It only means that you’ve learned, at long last, not to let anybody adjust your wattage.

Your wattage belongs to you. It is yours to adjust.

DEAR KRISTIN: My mom died three months ago. My grief is so deep I can barely breathe. I am also a new mother. My beautiful baby girl will never know her grandmother. It feels like my mom’s death has severed our family chain. How will I face this first Mother’s Day without Mom? I’m happy beyond measure to welcome my baby girl into the world, but heartbroken that my mom is not here to meet her and to love her. How do I navigate all of this? -- HEARTBROKEN

DEAR HEARTBROKEN: My deepest condolences, Beloved, on the loss of your mother, but also, my warmest congratulations on the birth of your baby girl. The very fact that I can offer condolences and congratulations in the same breath -- and actually feel both emotions, in equal measure, from the deepest depths of my heart -- is proof positive that we are capable of experiencing polar opposite emotions at the same time: Joy and grief can exist simultaneously. You must try to honor both.

Stand in the solid center of your grief. Do not shirk from it or wish it away. The depth of your grief is beautifully commensurate with the depth of your love for your mom. You miss her. Tell her that.

Consider writing a letter to your mom and reading it out loud to her on Mother’s Day. Use your written words to introduce your baby girl to her grandmother. Hold your child close as you read; let her feel and hear the power of your words.

On this first Mother’s Day without Mom, be gentle with yourself. Wrap your daughter in lots of warm embraces. Touch her tiny fingers. Feel her little pulse and rest easy in the knowledge that your shared blood, and your mother’s shared blood, is running through her little veins. This is an ancestral bond that creates a connection that can never be broken, not even in death.

When my own mother died, my entire world stopped. And just like you, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl shortly thereafter who never had the chance to meet her grandmother. But guess what? My daughter knows her grandmother.

She knows her through me, because I talk about her all the time. I share memories, photos and life lessons. In this way, we ensure that motherhood itself remains a living legacy. Your daughter will know her grandmother if you help create the living link.

I’m not minimizing your pain, Beloved. Mother’s Day without Mother -- heck, living life without Mother -- is heartbreakingly difficult, especially when the separation is fresh and new.

But believe me when I tell you that your family chain has not been “severed.” A beautiful new link has been added to it, in the form of your daughter.

Stand in the solid center of that unbreakable link on Mother’s Day, and let your tears of gratitude, grace and yes, even sadness, flow freely.