Giving In To Love

77% Weekly Newsletter

Love

 

His name is Nae-nae. Dark gray fur covers his emaciated body. Scabs on the tips of his ears fall off in my fingers as I touch them.

We arrived at the Kauai Humane Society on the third day of our vacation there, not knowing which of the shelter’s dogs we would be taking for a daylong field trip.

Fate, via the woman at the front desk, delivers us Nae-nae.

 

Pre-love

“As soon as they can understand conditional sentences, I’m alright with kids,” I tell Jane when we are only recently married.

We are in San Francisco on a trip to visit Danny and Pam, friends of hers from Brown. Sam, who is now 20, was only a few months old.

I’ve changed.

 

Nae-nae

After giving the suggested donation of $40 to the shelter, we leave with Nae-nae and a backpack of supplies.

Emmett, playing according to the family rule that all members have to be able to see the car, is the first to shout “shotgun” and scores the passenger seat next to Jane.

Annie, Nae-nae, and I climb into the back.

Moments after sitting between us, Nae-nae collapses his malnourished body onto my lap, allowing me to hold his sweet head in my arms.

 

Sam

The loft in the apartment Danny and Pam are renting from Danny’s boss is furnished by one couch and festooned with houseplants.

Pam explains, “Houseplants make a room feel less empty.”

I don’t remember the circumstances that led to me lying on the couch and Sam being placed on my chest.

But I know we both napped. My hands clasped over Sam’s tiny, helpless, onesie-clad, four-month-old body.

I am forever changed.

 

Love

Kate Wolf sings a song with a chorus, “So, give yourself to love. Love is what you’re after.”

Rumi tells us: “We need not seek love, but rather we need to seek out and dismantle the barriers we have set up in our lives that keep us from it.”

 

Tears

As the family and I drive to Poipu beach for a four-biped-and-one-quadruped hike, I gently stroke Nae-nae and allow myself to dive into my feelings. I look out the window at the natural and human-made landscape and cry.

Rabbi Brian Doesn’t Understand

In the 18th century, in Hannipol, a small district of Khmelnytskyi Oblast, in present-day western Ukraine, there was a rabbi known as Reb Zusya. Zusya, a pious man, taught about humility and had a strange habit of referring to himself in the third person. Instead of saying, “I am hungry,” or “I don’t understand,” he would say, “Zusya is hungry,”

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Travesty

I rewind the etymology podcast 15 seconds because I missed the details about the origin of the word travesty. I want to listen again—more closely—so I learn it, so I can recall it later in conversation… because if I tell you how travesty—from “traverse” and “clothing”—came to mean “shockingly unfair,” you’ll think I’m smart. Lost in that thought, I suddenly

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The Soup We Are In

Most of the time, even when we don’t really need to be rushing (and sometimes without realizing we are rushing) a really large percentage of us rush anyhow. Seems we are angled forward, always striving to get ahead. I get it. It’s the soup we are in. Our society conflates productivity, hurriedness, and worth. We take on the flavors around

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77% Weekly Newsletter
77% Weekly Newsletter