Yes, We're Open

Yes, We’re Open

I miss those old signs you used to see

in shop windows, hung by a string

or suction-cupped to the glass—Yes,

We’re Open on one side, and Sorry,

We’re Closed on the other. Such polite

words printed in looping script with

a welcome that felt like a pair of hands

waving you inside, or a sincere apology

for the locked doors and darkened windows.

I meet too many people—even myself

some days—with a Closed sign dangling

from the neck, lights switched off in the eyes,

deadbolt turned in the chest against any

truth that doesn’t fit the tidy container

of safe belief. Let me never change the sign

in myself to the other side—let me never

close, even to those who behave in cruel

and careless ways. Let a small bell above

ring out with possibility for each stranger

who chooses to pass through.


It is aspirational, of course, to wish for this kind of openness. We can’t always stay available to everyone, and of course there will be instances when we must shut down to protect ourselves, to rest. But I encounter too many people these days who have solidified into one way of thinking and being—myself very much included, at times— who have left little room to change or evolve. We need space to grow, and a willingness to open to others. It is so easy to turn away from one another right now, and it can seem as if we have lost all sense of civility and steadiness in our society. Yet I still trust that human nature has not changed in the past decade; it is our environment that has shifted, that has been actively pushed to the point where negativity and insult seem the norm, instead of the kindness and stability so many of us would rather see. Recently, I got to thinking about how I miss those old signs in shop windows. No doubt, I was feeling nostalgia for a bygone way of life, times that felt much simpler, but the signs also represent some deeper choice within each of us—the possibility of an open heart and mind, or the locked doors and darkened windows that signal to all who pass by: no one is here. We have a choice every day, in nearly every moment that unfolds, whether we open or close. And though we didn’t sign up for this, for those of us who aspire to stay open, we must take it upon ourselves to reshape the world we live in, to decide what kind of environment our own behaviors will contribute to and create. To push against the idea that anyone is unwelcome here.


Invitation for Writing & Reflection: What does it mean to “stay open” at a time when it is so much easier and more comfortable to shut down, when so many others refuse any sort of change or growth that challenges their views? What does the sign in you say most often these days—Open or Closed?

As many of you know, my husband Brad and I are trying to purchase and preserve 100 acres of Vermont farmland that will hopefully become a gathering space for retreats as well as a working organic farm. We are getting close to fulfilling this lifelong dream, and appreciate all of you who have helped us so much along the way. If you feel called, you can donate below to be a part of this vision of this farm, or you can pledge your support by becoming a paid monthly member below. We hope to make this happen soon, and look forward to sharing photos and stories of our journey with all of you!

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-brad-and-james-save-vermont-farmland-forever

I am also thrilled to welcome Alaska poet Susan Campbell to my writing community next Wednesday, August 12th at 1pm ET when we’ll be discussing and writing from her wonderful new poetry collection, This Far North. Please consider joining, if you’re not already a member, for this monthly infusion of creativity and inspiration that always leaves my own cup so full!

https://www.themonthlypause.com/

Photo credit: Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash