The Portland Press Herald is my favorite newspaper.
Growing up in small town New Hampshire my parents only had the local weekly delivered – mostly, because they had kids spread out from preschool to high school. More weeks than not, one of us was featured doing something.
Though, whenever we ventured to Maine, The Portland Press became as routine as tooth brushing and beach combing.
This venture proved no different.
My family just returned from a grateful week in South Portland visiting with multiple cousins, and one deeply loved aunt. The Portland Press was a part of every day.
Though while inspiring stories of determined Mainers, and thoughtful editorials from the publishers still dotted the pages, the news was mostly soaked in fear, hate, outrage, and disaster.
Every page, every day, brought more stories of assault against humanity. More division and devastation.
I found it difficult to read. To write. To respond. And on the ride home, with my own little one peacefully asleep in the back, I cried.
How do we heal? What’s the Loving Solution?
The word “loving” stayed with me. And for the rest of the ride I heard it as, “love-in.”
I do not have any big answers, so, I try my best to be open to simple starts.
I believe it’s a good principle to do unto others as you would have them do unto you. But, what happens if you’re not doing very well unto yourself?
When you only hear your faults. Only see your failures. When you can’t bear your own touch. When you believe (or worse, believe that you know) that you are less.
Maybe, it’s too much to start out and then work back in.
Maybe, if we all Love-In a bit more, we could hurt each other a lot less.
I’m determined to try.
From here until…who knows…I’ll be mindfully finding a way to Love-In every day.
Today, that meant making my bed as if it were for company.
Freshly laundered sheets, securely fastened and crisply folded. Pillows in matching cases, positioned to invite sinking and sleeping. White candle light and a faint, cool summer breeze. The rain even tapped in.
After taking in a few deep, quiet moments of peace, I went for my phone to take a picture. That’s when my son asked if he could be in it, too. It felt very right to say, “of course, you can.”
We all can.