To Be Loved

Creating Community Through Sharing Stories

Dear Readers,

Thank you to all of you who read last week’s post and wrote to me sharing your own stories. When we share stories, we are reminded that we are connected in this human experience, in the joys, sorrows and struggles. You shared about someone saying you would be beautiful if you just changed that one thing, lost that weight, cut your hair, smiled more. You shared stories of the careless and cruel things people said to you when you were young, the comments they thought were harmless but shaped your perception of yourself into your adulthood. You shared how you have many voices inside yourself, one that believes you are powerful and one that tries to make you small, suggests it will be safer to conform. You wrote your own versions of this story, each connected to the story I shared, each unique and beautiful in its telling.

In the words of Natalie Goldberg, my favorite teacher of writing, “writing is the act of reaching across the abyss of isolation to share and reflect. It’s not a diet to become skinny, but a relaxing into the fat of our lives. Often without realizing it, we are on a quest, a search for meaning. What does our time on this earth add up to?” (Old Friend from Far Away)

Today, I’m reaching out across the abyss to share two poems with you, poems about belonging, poems reminding us that we are not worthy of love because we are good, or because we conform to the expectation of us, we are worthy simply as we are. The first poem is written by Mary Oliver, who is undoubtedly my favorite poet. She’s the one my dear friend gifted to me because sometimes I think my wise friend might actually know me better than I know myself and when I forget who I am and what I can do, she reminds me.  Mary Oliver is where I turn when I feel utter despair. She’s the one I pack in my carry-on when I’m headed to my grandmother’s memorial service or when I learn of another unspeakable atrocity, or when my own life is taking an unexpected turn. She’s the one I pick up to remind me of the comfort that I can find in nature, to remind me that I do have a place amongst it all. The second poem is one I wrote for our rescue dog, Cato, and our former foster son, who on these pages, I will call Mateo. May it also serve as a reminder that you do not have to be good to be loved.

Wild Geese

by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again,

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting

Over and over announcing your place

in the family of things

Missed Opportunity

by Mary Hutto Fruchter

When we are walking Cato through our neighborhood

a man asks Mateo if he can pet her

He is so proud

to be noticed

to be considered someone worthy of asking a question

to be considered someone who knows something

He tells the man she is not always kind

I explain to him that next time he can just say that strangers make her a little nervous

She gets scared, and then she acts scary

She is not unkind

Why do strangers scare her?

I don’t know, I say. I can only guess

Because of her history, because of her birth

Because of what happened to her before she came to us

Because of the trauma within her bones

and maybe I missed an opportunity

Maybe I could have simply said, sometimes she isn’t so kind

but we love her still

We love her so much anyway

What resonates with you today? What is your experience of being loved so much anyway? Who do you pack in your carry-on? Who is the friend that reminds you of who you are? Maybe try writing from a line in one of the poems above… “You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.”

It is my hope that we can build a community here, sharing our voices, listening to each other and reminding the world of the power of story. I would love to continue this conversation in the comments. If you are not ready to comment yourself, reading and liking the post and the comments of others is much appreciated.

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