"So let them."

I did something today, twice, that I don’t think I’ve ever done:

I told someone I maybe wouldn’t ordinarily confide in (entirely unsolicited) that I was suffering in my heart. 

The first incident occurred with one of our regular customers at the shop who always brings her dog in. I can’t help but kneel down to greet the dog and the dog always waits until the moment when I’m laughing to lick the inside of my mouth. A French kiss, her human calls it. When I stood up, I became aware that I wanted to tell her about Indiana Bones. She hugged me almost immediately, and it was the first hug I’d had in a really long time, as far as hugs go.

The second time was with my housemate, who also owns an adorable and precocious canine. Our three paths crossed this evening in the kitchen and, feeling funny about keeping Indy’s death a secret, I took a breath, then told her, too. She also almost immediately hugged me.

The thing is, I’m really careful about compassion versus empathy, and dumping problems onto other people. When my long-time boyfriend and I decided to break up, I was depressed for weeks. Only my family and a couple of very close friends knew what was going on with me, and that was enough to sustain me until I could find myself again.

But this…This is different.

And maybe you’re a bit like me, born into this world with a stiff upper lip, as they say. Strong to a fault. Stubborn til the bitter end. It seemed weak to confide in others that I had gone through—am still going through—something sad and difficult, and even selfish to inflict the pain that such news would inevitably bring. What would be the purpose? To get their pity? Yuck…

No, this is something different, altogether. 

Not very long ago, I made a prayer to the Creator that I might learn what Love and loving others (and being loved) could truly mean. Even since childhood, I’ve had the sense that for all the books I had read and big words I could write and pronounce, Love—real and true and righteous Love—was lacking from my life. Or perhaps, my conscious understanding and recognition of It was lacking. A few months back, walking along the beach during a first date, I heard myself saying that Love was totally wrapped up in my destiny. It was my life’s work to be able to write about this Love, in all Its forms. (I’m not really one for small talk.)

And what losing a canine member of the family has taught me (on Day 3) is that Love sometimes needs an invitation.

Looking around at my life this week has miraculously revealed a network of allies that I didn’t previously recognize. And though I wish, every moment, that Mr. Bones was still on this earth plane, it’s undeniable that there’s a magic that occurs when you enter the right place at the right time with the right person, then reach out your hand with a request for compassion…There’s a magical sense of grace and, indeed, Love that arises between two people when one of them stands up with vulnerability and the other one gets to say, “I see your strength.”

Even with people you only ever see in passing, whether it be chance meetings on the sidewalk or in the kitchen. For really, our people are everywhere.

And though it may be sappy, it’s certainly not a sign of weakness to reach out your hand and make room for Love to come through the door.

Your people want to love you.

So let them.