I want to tell you about love, but this is a big idea.
Instead, I will tell you about the memory of a summer day in Canton, Ohio in 2002. I was with my dear friend Betsy, biking around her quiet suburban neighborhood streets, singing songs, and soaking up the sun.
At some point, we stopped for a rest on a big rock outside a bank parking lot, and, sitting side by side, watched wide-eyed at the trail of ants carrying crumbs up and down the crevices in the stone. I remember feeling mesmerized by their movements, captivated by the rhythm of their synchronized walking, inch by inch making their way. I remember wondering if the weight of the crumbs the ants carried felt heavy, if they worried about the weather, or anything really, if they felt fear, or pain.
Watching the ants, I watched the whole world and questioned everything.
This paying attention, this drinking in the moment, this curiosity, is the love I know how to say. Tara Brach says whenever we wholeheartedly attend to anything - to the person we're with, to the tree in our front yard, or to a squirrel perched on a branch - this living energy becomes an intimate part of who we are.
This love is what I most want to share. Each week, I write to you to tell you about this love, and each week, this is the most important thing I do. “My work is loving the world,” as Mary Oliver has written in her poem, “Messenger.”
”Let me keep my mind on what matters, which is my work,
which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished.”
This week’s OOH LA LA! list includes: fireflies, smiling at strangers, taking off a tight pair of shoes at the end of a long day.
Last night I worked an event at a venue in Long Island, far away from the city where the trees outnumber people and there are long stretches of green grass, sculpted into precise lines and roped off to discourage walking, like a vintage woven rug protected in a museum. As the sun set, I heard my friend gasp as she pointed to the trees and said, “fireflies!” Over the next hour, as we worked, we watched the flickering lights dance in the dark and smiled at each other every time we caught a glimpse of the spark. “It’s like stars come to earth,” I said, and remembered that we too, are stars on earth. How lucky we are to be alive here to witness this.
Often when I am walking the streets of New York City, I am intending to get to a destination in the quickest path possible. I’ve learned that if you look just past people, without making eye contact, a path will appear in the crowded sidewalk, and you can wiggle and sway your way through. But sometimes, I take my time. I move out of the way for dogs and strollers, I walk slowly behind a couple holding hands, and I try to find eyes in the crowd. It becomes a game, to see people, to really see them, and to smile when we finally connect. The exchange is brief, only a few seconds, but smiling at strangers with loving kindness is my absolute favorite way to make the day better. My goal in the game is to give out my love and peace, but in the end, I always end up with more love, and I think that’s really what it means to be abundantly rich.
Now that I’m in my mid-30s, my priority for choosing footwear is focused on sustainable support and comfort. I’ve got several pairs of inserts that offer even more assistance to my flat-footed arches and I am almost exclusively wearing sneakers with most outfits. One day this week I had to wear a cuter, less comfortable pair of shoes for a gig, and as a result, I endured hours of blister-building, toe-squeezing, ankle-aching movement. Finally, when the event ended, I took off the tight pair of shoes and exhaled a sigh of relief so full of release that I’m certain the chair I sat on sighed with me. I couldn’t help but think of spiritual teacher Ram Dass who said that death too is like that, like taking off a tight shoe you’ve worn well. I don’t mean to mention death so lightly, for I know the world is heavy and hurting and there are whole towns destroyed or about to be, and it is devastating, the way we can be so unkind to each other, so unwise. But maybe there is a peace here too, and maybe we can work to make things better, and hold each other more lightly, and take off the tight shoes while we’re still here together, so we can exhale and release, and feel good now.
May we all feel good now.
Thanks for reading!
I’d love to know - what is an OOH LA LA something you experienced or observed this week? A new friend asked me a similar question - they said, “what do you love most about the world?”
Reply to this email with 1-3 sentences about your current obsessions, passions, joys, and pleasures, or what you love most about the world right now! This practice is the highest form of love.
XOXO,
LJ
P.S. I want to give this space more of my attention, but to do so, I need to offer more opportunities for financial support. While this space will always remain free, I’m considering options for additional ways to support each other. I’d love to know what you’re interested in - if you have 30 seconds to spare, please answer this one question here!
Every blink of a firefly's light says...believe!