Everyone you see, you say to them,
"Love me."
Of course you do not do this out loud;
Otherwise,
Someone would call the cops.
Still though, think about this,
This great pull in us to connect.
Why not become one
Who lives with a full moon in each eye
That is always saying
With that sweet moon
Language
What every other eye in this world
Is dying to
Hear.
--Hafez
This poem, by the Persian lyric poet, has been on my mind. I can't stop thinking about it ever since I read it, in yet, another insightful book given to me by my amazing mother-in-law. This book is titled, "Tattoos on the Heart: The Power of Boundless Compassion," by Gregory Boyle.
Fr. Greg is a Jesuit Roman Catholic Priest, director and founder of Homeboy Industries and former pastor of Dolores Mission Church in Los Angeles, CA, who organized his parish around Liberation Theology--which, consequently, I wrote my senior thesis on in college while researching the influence of the Catholic Church in Latin America.
I'm not even halfway through this book, yet it is already affecting me in numerous ways. Specifically, this poem...the idea of it...
We all want to be loved...but we don't go around telling everyone we see, meet, make eye contact with to "Love me." In fact, we feign insouciance. We walk tough, chin up, exuding an air of "whatever." We are proud and make an effort to hold people at a distance, rarely exposing our vulnerabilities, to avoid feeling pain, hurt, rejection, judgement. But, underneath this facade, everyone wants to make some sort of connection, attachment, alliance, bond, partnership, union.
Instead of asking..."Love me"...why not be the one to give what everyone is "dying to hear." Why not, with our eyes, our presence, our attention...tell people..."I love you."
During a memorial service for a reformed drug dealer, who had been senselessly shot while packing his car for a camping trip, Fr. Greg recalled the changes this man had mad in his life and the enlightenment, self worth, and acceptance he had found by "embracing his goodness." According to Fr. Greg, if you can achieve this ability of loving others by "embracing your own goodness", then "nothing [will be] the same again. And, really, what is death compared to knowing that? No bullet can pierce it."
Transporting folks to and from their doctor's appointments and hospital stays, I am constantly interacting with new faces everyday. This poem is on my brain while I work and it makes me want to give "what every other eye in this world is dying to hear." If I don't think about it, I easily lose focus and get lazy in the repetition of transport. To show people I love them, I have to actively work at it. Most of the time, I don't even have to say anything. A warm smile and a sparkle in my eyes that look with intention and sincerity into another's is all it takes. Others can tell what I am feeling by the energy I release with a simple look. I've come to realize that what I see in my world is a reflection of how I'm feeling that day, what mood I'm in. If I'm lost in my own worries, fears, insecurities, I find that my world is ugly and gray. No one wants to make eye contact with me, nor I with others. There are no connections made. If I am focused outwardly on others, happy, refreshed, enjoying where I am at that moment...I find my world to be bright and full of hope, promise. Beautiful interactions follow. This is referred to as the Mirror Aspect of life. What we see around us in our world, our environment is what we are or who we are being at that moment. Our lives are reflections for better or worse.
I was fortunate to meet a 92 yr. old gentleman the other day while "posting" (basically, waiting around at a designated spot until someone needs transporting). Walking towards me in the local church parking lot, with a bag full of bread crumbs, my first thought was "uh oh." As an initial response, I feel justified, since the last time I was approached in this parking lot was by a scraggly couple asking if I could help them get the handcuffs off the girl's wrists. On second thought,"This is my chance to meet someone new. He looks harmless. Let's see what he's up to." Turns out, he's a fascinating and inspiring fellow whom I hope to meet again soon so I can learn some more from him. He told me all sorts of interesting facts about his long life that I never would have known had I kept myself closed to the interaction. He was so energetic for his age and full of life and optimism. It was refreshing. Born in 1920 in the northeast, he thanked me for transporting people in wheelchairs since his own father had been paralyzed from the waist down and wheelchair bound his entire life. He disclosed to me about growing up in Detroit, Michigan in the 20's, his military experience, meeting his wife in Scotland (we made this connection from my maiden name McCrystal), the decade it's been since she passed, and his 30 years working for The Boy Scouts of America. "I'm just doing my boyscout duty by feeding the birds and squirrels and cleaning up around this church," is what he said to me, all the while holding up his right hand in the typical fashion of reciting the Boy Scout Oath. I believe my friend lived with a full moon in each eye, with that sweet moon language.
Why not become one
Who lives with a full moon in each eye
That is always saying
With that sweet moon
Language
What every other eye in this world
Is dying to
Hear.
I love you.
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