Out in the World

That’s easier said than done. All of it, the going out into the world, the loving the people you meet, the lighting of a light in others, sounds so easy. But it’s not. It’s not easy at all. 

First, going out means getting dressed which is a lot easier than it used to be, I’ll admit. Nowadays, pulling on a pair of tights and a sweatshirt is perfectly acceptable for grocery shopping, drugstore runs, and vet visits. I can be out in the world in flip flops and a baseball cap, hair scrunched in a messy bun, clean torn jeans, and a funky shirt in a notched down boho kind of style. (Maybe style is too strong a word.) But no matter the clothing comfort level, going out means leaving the house and throwing myself into the maelstrom of life—where I might meet people. 

I don’t want to meet people much less love them. I don’t want to get close enough to risk disappointment in them or me. Meeting people means being open enough to share something of yourself, your name, for instance. I’m perfectly happy to be “that old lady next door,” “that woman with 12 cats,” “that woman in the sage green truck.” If I tell you my name, I’m giving you a piece of me that you can hang on to or use to contact me or stalk me with religious or political propaganda. No, I prefer to love people from afar, like from my window as they deliver my mail, or the window of my truck as they hand over a large coffee with cream only or a banana milkshake or a double cheeseburger. Those people I can love and appreciate. I might even love a stranger in a bookstore who offers a silent thumbs up on a book selection. In that case, I can offer a split-second open heart and a smile but that’s about it. Is that enough to light a light in someone else? Maybe, if that person also has an open heart and willingness to allow a simple smile to light their fire—in a spiritual way. 

I just don’t see myself as that person who is capable of starting a wildfire of love in strangers, whose mission it is in life to venture out into the world with open hearted abandon. I feel much more comfortable and willing to send out the energy of my love in other ways from the safety of my own comfy cave. To all of the other adventurous souls who love to roam outside sharing their love, I salute you and honor you. Fly far little birds. I’ll keep the home fires burning—with love from afar.