The Invisible Net of Love

INOL golden net castAs a recovering English major, I’m a total sucker for a good metaphor.

One of my favorites is The Invisible Net of Love.

Here’s how it goes: we are all surrounded all the time by an Invisible Net of Love but we never see it. The only way we know the Invisible Net of Love is there is when we reach out. As soon as we do, there it is. The net pulls us in and snugs us up giving us support and love and probably some really good casseroles.

So if you tell me that you are struggling with something, I’ll calmly tell you that I’m in your Invisible Net of Love and all I need is for you to reach out and ask for help. Just ask for help.

Years ago, I discovered what a gift it is to be of service, to give help when it’s needed. I love being part of the Invisible Net of Love: organizing meals, or spending time at the hospital, and when the call comes, I give world-class hugs. Being in someone’s Invisible Net of Love opens my heart.

Recently, though, I’ve been on the other side of the Net. Struggling with my beloved’s debilitating herniated disc injury, I felt stressed, overwhelmed, and alone. I could feel myself tighten and starting to collapse. For a couple of weeks, I didn’t talk much about it and didn’t ask for help. It seemed lame to ask for help for this. No one had cancer. No one had died. It seemed like I ought to be able to handle it and not get all whiney pants about it.

About three weeks into Frank’s injury, I went out for first time with a friend for dinner. I was anxious about leaving him. At an outdoor table on an unexpectedly lovely July night, she asked what she could do to help.

“Oh, you know, I’m fine, I think. I don’t think we really need anything,” I lamely lied through my teeth.

My friend looked at me steadily across the table and crossed her arms.
“Remember those times you brought meals to your friend who was in chemo?”
“Um, yeah.”
“And remember when you went and sat with our friend’s son in the hospital every week that summer?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And remember when you came to see me even though I was depressed and could barely deal with anything? Remember how you sat with me in the garden and talked? Remember all that?”
I was suspicious now. “Ah, yes, yes I do.”
“Well, how did you feel when you did those things?”
“Great. It was a relief to do even something small to be helpful. I loved it.”
She leaned in a little closer.
“You are depriving your friends of that great feeling by not reaching out and asking for help.”

She got me. Trapped in my own damn metaphor.

Whether or not we’re willing to acknowledge it, we are all inextricably connected. None of us, not one of us can make it alone. We need each other.

This is the summer that I discovered that not just offering help, but asking for help is a spiritual practice.

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3 comments
  1. Mum said:

    What a wonderful lesson to learn…although a very difficult one ! XXXXX, Mum

    • I am tempted to call this the Saddest (or Suckiest, depending on the day) Summer on Record but as soon as I think about it, I’m faced with all the love and support and kindness and goodness that I’ve received in the face of said Suckiness. So yes, it’s been a good lesson and humbling. xoxo SJ

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