Marley

If anyone dared to speak disparagingly of pigs, my grandmother would scold them with a hearty defense of her favorite animal (besides the goat):

“Pigs are the smartest animals on the planet.”

“They are cleaner than humans!”

“They are misunderstood.” 

Let’s just say I came to love this clumsy and apparently very intelligent creature! Maybe it was brainwashing or maybe her words gave me pause to be curious and pay attention to what they had to offer. Maybe it was the introduction to Charlotte’s Web that gave me an affinity for pigs.

Let me introduce you to Marley, as in the mellow Bob Marley. I met him recently at an Airbnb in the Appalachian Mountains. The owners informed me he is the resident sage and a natural genius at attuning. He doesn’t interrupt and genuinely seems like he wants to be with you. His wide, lumpy girth and thinning hair somehow lend itself to making you feel safe and loved. There’s a bench right outside the fence for visitors to sit and pour out their hearts to this soulful creature. The owners put it in for their guests when they realized how much time people were spending with him. It was love at first sight for me. I just sat with him, scratched his back and was somehow comforted as I listened to his snuffling and grunting. In the quiet company of Marley, I was soothed, settled, shed a few tears, and was ready for the day to begin.

Do you have people who will just sit and listen to your heart? Stay with you no matter what you are unlocking and exploring? Somehow be a presence that you know is all in? Listen with no judgement, just a look that says you are welcome…all of you? People that can trust you will discover what you need without giving their advice?

I’m puzzled at why it is so difficult to find people who unselfconsciously see each other, who can wait patiently and quietly as we find our words and feelings, whose kindness is genuine and palpable and make you feel safe and held. There is a dearth of empathetic listeners in this world. It grieves me and twists my heart until it aches. I long for a kinder and more welcoming world. 

And yet I understand that unless you can sit with and listen well to your own story, having compassion and curiosity for yourself, you can not do it for others. The few friends I have who can attune well, have welcomed suffering and sat with Jesus in their heartache and confusion.  They are not afraid of their own journey or emotions. They have received and integrated grief into their lives and they know deep joy because of deep loss. They are able to “love others as they love themselves.” 

I am guilty of not holding hearts well and when I do not… when I interrupt, give advice, or interject as someone is sharing, when I find myself changing the subject rather than lingering with someone’s insecurity, shame, joy, or sadness, I know I am not at rest in my own soul. I know that I am unsettled and that I have not been with Jesus or myself well. I want to be a Marley in this world and I am working on it! Snuffling and grunting and being present for myself and for others.