beLOVED

I should probably save this for tomorrow - who knows if I'll have anything to post then? But it is on my heart now, so here we go...

Last night I had a dream about my community. Amongst the various oddities (like Steven Spielberg coming to do a documentary about Food For Thought, and hearing Don give a message with sound effects), there was something that struck a chord with me, since it has been on my mind quite a lot.

In the dream, Don stands up and starts to talk to a room full of white suburbanites, and the message is one of those fluffy things that are supposed to be in-your-face. That sentence alone (plus my comment above about sound effects, and the next detail I'm going to give) should tell you this was not an accurate representation of Don. Amid the dream-Don's talk, where he kept intentionally repeating words - "gift-gift", "thank-thank", "neighbor-neighbor" (Mr. Rogers with a goatee and a speech impediment?) - was the implication that we don't do enough to show we care about each other. We don't go out of our way to love each other and show gratitude.

"When was the last time you took a few minutes and wrote out a note to thank-thank someone for what they've done for you?"

Not a message about thank-you notes for gifts or hospitality but one about randomly but purposefully carving out time to show gratitude.

I don't know if the real Don (please stand up) would ever give a message like this, but in my dream I stood up and confronted Don. Then I walked out.

Why? Well, here's where I first want to draw the line between acknowledging one of my "issues" and telling you this is not me asking for anything. OK?

Alright... so, I have this thing inside me that constantly hungers for approval. I horde the notes I get from people that feed this hunger. In my nightstand, in fact, is a little card my friend Emily wrote me a couple of years ago. I get it out and read it every now and then. I know I am not alone in this. (This being other people hording notes, not specifically notes from Emily. That would be kinda weird.)

Because this is how I love to be loved, I have tried now and then to send messages of my own (via snail mail, preferrably, but through all kinds of ways) to encourage, appreciate and connect. You know - the whole "do unto others" thing. I try hard, as well, to gift people with something meaningful.

Please understand I'm not trying to toot my own horn. I'm neither consistent nor perfect in this gratitude thing. My point is that - again, I am NOT asking for anything - that I rarely see others do the same. We give love the way we prefer to be loved, right? Hmmm... not always. Sometimes, we take the easy way out. Because the way we prefer to be loved seems a little high-maintenance at the moment. Or awkward. Or random. Or . . . whatever.

Do you know what the name Amanda means? It's Latin for "worthy of love", "beloved", "she who must be loved". It's... been a struggle for many years not to see my name as a joke. (Beyond the Amanda Huggenkiss, Amanda-Panda, and Amanda has Faith in Moore jokes.) Because, for right or wrong, I have not felt loved. What's more, I have not felt worthy of love.

In my journey now to get a right understanding of what love really is and to completely remove worth out of the equation, I would rather use my name to do something and focus on others. Rather than be constantly focused on me and my love-lorn state.

So here's an idea. Pick someone in your life. Take few minutes and write them a note. Doesn't have to be flowery or eloquent or novel-length, just genuine. Send it to them. Maybe you sign it, maybe you don't. Maybe you use notebook paper, maybe you use fancy stationery, maybe you send it in a card with a picture of Obama in a tutu on the front. Whatever. The important thing is you did it, expecting nothing in return.

I think . . . if I would be beloved, it would be because I can be loving without wanting anything in return.