Never underestimate the power of a simple, “Hey—we’re going to a Meadery after this if you’d like to join.”
Whether that’s you giving the open invitation or even you accepting the open invitation.
It’s a powerful path-altering moment that can turn “know-of-you” people into “now-we-have-nicknames-and-inside-jokes-with-each-other” people.
It’s a single line that can be easily modified and make a world of difference in a person’s life.
I don’t know who needs to hear this, but take a few minutes to let this Swedish proverb sink into your soul: “Joy shared is doubled, sorrow shared is halved.”
Could there be a more clear reason to invest in community? To initiate conversation and hangouts with family, friends, and acquaintances? To take a chance on strangers in the name of connection?
I believe firmly in estimates of this proverb.
But only if the joy and sorrow shared is with somebody who is aligned with your energy and is willing to “take” and “hold” your joy and sorrow in all of its rawness.
…And in a world where most of what’s shared is virtual and with people who are doom scrolling and too distracted to care one way or another… the in-real-life efforts are more important—and worth more—than ever before.
An excerpt from Brooklyn by Colm Tóibín: “She thought that he was going to cry; she felt almost guilty that she had handed some of her grief to him, and then she felt close to him for his willingness to take it and hold it, in all its rawness, all its dark confusion.”
It can feel this way. Like guilt when you hand some of your grief to others. Like you burdened them or made them uncomfortable or brought a heaviness to their otherwise bright and cheerful day.
But when you hand some of your grief to those who are willing to take it and help you hold it—in all of its rawness and dark confusion—you’re not burdening them… you’re actually giving them an opportunity. An opportunity to connect deeply with you in a way that would be a burden to try to figure out how to otherwise. Get it?
Because when we’re bright and cheerful, like the sun, we typically connect over what touches the surface: our likes and dislikes; our hobbies and activities; our background and accomplishments…
But when we’re grief-stricken, like the rain, we connect over what seeps below the surface: our emotions and feelings; our morals and values; our life-defining experiences and most significant pains…
Trauma-dumping is a term you might use when somebody pours unsolicited trauma experiences towards a person who is unwilling to take and hold it… who feels uncomfortable… who becomes burdened.
But grief-sharing is not that.
It, in fact, can be one of the most significant relationship deepening experiences that two people ever share.
Why can’t I picture your face?
After I just pictured
A life with you
You had exquisite style
Everything intentional
And not one uninteresting thing about you
You were rockin’ this messy, put-together look
Half part class, and a wild second half
Which, woven together, made you different
It’s all still so clear
And the impression you made
Is still pressed upon the pillow of my mind
But your face…
Gone so completely
Like some kind of payback
For walking away too quickly
For not looking more carefully
At every crevice and feature
For not looking more intentionally
Through your windows
Into the home
…I only got to imagine us warming.
P.s. You can read my other poems here.
I had the distinct privilege of listening to a live presentation from Imani Perry last night.
And one of the stories she shared stuck with me.
Her grandmother used to gather with friends to quilt.
Each woman would start at a different point of a single quilt, however, and work together until the one was completed.
When it was, they would give it to the woman who needed it the most. Maybe because one just gave birth or another was struggling with bills or whatever.
And I love this idea because it does so much more than make and gift a quilt to a woman who needs it… it brings people together for a common cause (purpose), it acts as a means for conversation (connection), and brings a healing element into the occasion because each woman gets to share her struggles, her challenges, her adversities… and presumably create an invaluable opportunity for everybody else to relate and reciprocate in deeply fulfilling way(s).
…How beautiful.
Is there something like this you could create in your life?
“I just wanted to say I love your energy.”
“The way you danced and smiled and were so present with everything you did… it was amazing.”
“Thank you for all of that and I hope you have a great day.”
…But I hesitated.
Still got more inner work to do.
My aunt has this young, 1-year-old black cat.
She’s curious and playful, but more often than not, uninvolved and off doing her own thing.
My aunt and cousins would call for her, play with toys to attract her, and try to entertain her frequently throughout the visit. And she would usually oblige for a few minutes… but then would carry on her way and unassumingly find something else to do.
I’m allergic to cats so I didn’t give forth that same kind of energy.
Well on the last night of my visit to my aunt’s house, I was sitting in meditation after everybody else had gone to sleep when suddenly, I hear the cat poking around. I opened my eyes and there she was, staring straight at me from the staircase.
It was strange because even when I was blowing her face trying to get a rise out of her, it felt like she was looking through me… or thinking carefully about something else while her eyes rested in my direction… never at me.
And yet… on this last night… as I sat there in a crossed-legged meditation position… she stared me down… unwaveringly… intensely… deliberately… and approached me slowly… slowly… until she was directly by my side… on the couch where I sat… sniffing… eyeing… evaluating…
…Until she eventually settled onto her legs, swallowing them up into her own meditation position of sorts, and closed her eyes.
It was strange that in that moment when I was still… un-seeking… and unassuming in a way myself… that it attracted the very cat that was being pursued… sought out… who seemed to have spent most of the weekend fleeing…