It’s pouring rain outside this coffee shop. Pouring. I wanted to leave and not write, but I’m stuck. Held hostage by a car too far away and no umbrella.

So I will type.

Over the weekend, I heard this from author and lover of people Bob Goff:
“I don’t think people follow vision. I think they follow availability.”

I love vision. We would all flounder without it. But I get this. I’ve learned the hard way.

Let’s dial back just a few months ago. I promise you would never see my face. A description of me would read something like, “A mess of long dark brown hair, hunched over a computer at all times. I’ve only ever seen the top of her head.” or “I’m not entirely sure. She looks like a whirlwind that just spun by.”

Busy. No, not busy. Crazy.

But we are all busy, right?

Can I just call for an end to this? Because I’m not busy and neither are you. We simply make time for what is most important. And for me, my to-do list was king. My Type-A personality was law and excuse. And I missed a lot of people along the way.

A dream ended a little while ago and though the entire story is much too long and personal to tell here, the whole storm was a mix of pride, selfishness, doubt and hopelessness. It’s a story of being wound so tight and shut off that I might as well have been the last person earth because that is how I functioned anyway.

Friends had babies, started new relationships, physically moved or been moved by something so great and emotional in their lives it was way too heavy to bear. All the while, they stared at the top of my head.

This is my public confession.

When something breaks it is mostly because it needs to. I know there are flukes in life, but for every random fender bender, there are a million more engines that fail because we never change our oil. When it breaks, we wake up. Care must happen along the way. It is never all or nothing.

So I broke. A lot broke. And it needed to.

The narrative is long and tender and maybe not for this outlet, but these days I spend my time reading and writing and praying for what is next. I’m trusting deeply. Waiting patiently. And I see people. I see friends and people who I’ve always wanted to see. I’m holding babies and enduring potty training bootcamps with new moms. I’m sharing cups of coffee and telling stories that have been begging to be told for way too long.

Can you come over? Yes.
Can you change that diaper? Yes.
Can you pray for this? Yes.
Can you go for a walk? Yes.

Not out of obligation or fear, but because I can and want to. Simply because showing up is half of it. Being available is all of it.

My metaphorical and literal door is open. In life I respond to people who this is true of. Wouldn’t it stand to reason others would want this most from me? This is how we love. If you are here, I am here too.