Infinite Capacity for Love

Dear Friends,
 
In June, just a few hours before my flight to Georgia for the first in-person New Pluralists gathering, my nine-year-old son, Elliott, woke up with a raging toothache. As the daughter of a dentist, I knew immediately that the hot swollen gum surrounding my son’s baby tooth meant we were in for a same-day extraction.
 
It was 6:30 AM when I called my dad for help. Within minutes, he had set up an appointment with a dentist friend in the city to take care of Elliott first thing that morning. At that moment, I had to make a tough decision that many parents have to face throughout their careers: I either stay home to help soothe Elliott’s anxiety about the extraction and miss the gathering, or forge ahead with my trip and trust that the many people I love – especially my remarkable husband, Jon – would be able to care for our son in my absence.
 
Both my dad and Jon encouraged me to go. And so did Elliott. It still was not an easy call, but I apprehensively called a Lyft. I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt, uncertainty, and restlessness as I headed for the airport while Elliott and Jon were off to the dentist.
 
Swirling in my mind were the thoughts of Elliott being in pain and the ache of not physically being there for him. Another part of me was also afraid of not being able to show up fully at the New Pluralists gathering and failing to give my peer funders and fellow field builders the attention they deserve. How could I hold and make space for anyone else when I felt like my heart was at capacity?
 
Just as the plane was about to take off, Elliott FaceTimed me from the street after the extraction was done. Through gritted teeth holding the gauze in place, he exclaimed, “Mommy, it was soooooo much easier than I thought it was going to be!” I immediately started to cry. “I’m so proud of you, honey,” I responded. Jon chimed in: “He did great. Have a wonderful trip. We’re good.” As I turned my phone to airplane mode, I quietly cried in my seat feeling both relieved and exhausted. I felt like my heart could not handle much more that day.
 
Yet, something in me quickly shifted during the dinner conversation once I arrived. The evening was led by The Dinner Party, and we were encouraged to get to know one another over the course of the meal. Each of us was asked to share our stories: who we are; what shaped us; our reasons for believing in a relational, pluralistic society; and the routes that brought us together. Luckily, the conversation did not start with me. As we went around the table and as I listened to people’s experiences, an incredible sense of ease, kindness, and camaraderie filled the room and allowed me to soften and open up. At one point, the person sitting next to me started to get emotional, and I found myself instinctively putting my arm around his shoulder. He turned towards me and said, “Thank you for that. I needed it.” I looked in his eyes and teared up, “Thank you. So did I.”
 
This moment was a reminder that I have a boundless capacity to love. And that we all do. We allow magic to happen when we let people into our hearts, even when we think we have reached our limits.
 
Even though I could not be next to Elliott at the dentist that day, I breathed easy knowing I could depend on Jon to brilliantly and beautifully tend to him. In many ways, Jon was the better parent to be sitting alongside Elliott through the procedure. Calm and reassuring, Jon’s approach is often better at alleviating our kids’ anxieties. And in this instance, also mine.
 
Connection is not measured by the number of days or hours spent together. It is about the long stretches of time when we decide to love whole-heartedly, when we show up bravely, when we trust someone else to carry some of the heaviness in our backpack, when we go beyond what we thought were our limits and stretch our capacity to love. Because after all, humanity only works when we are in it, together. 
 
So, in this spirit, I invite you to go Through the Prism with our dear friends Marc Freedman and Eunice Lin Nichols, fellow field builders at New Pluralists and co-CEOs of Encore.org, an organization working to change the culture by elevating new ideas and diverse voices on the power of connection and collaboration across generational divides.

I also want to share with you a list of resources and a small summer reading list that I have put together on the practice of belonging. And from our team, here are two reflections on the theme of independence and interdependence: the power of co-regulation through relationships to calm our bodies and brains by Ira Hillman, and the support we can provide to students across the country to guarantee their success by Itai Dinour.
 
This summer, I hope you will join me in answering a call to connection by practicing the art of celebration. Whether you choose to take a beach day with friends or gather people for a barbeque, take time to celebrate as much as possible and whenever possible. Bring the sunshine with you as you bask in communal joy and deepen your relationships.

We are taking a small pause from the newsletter this August, but before we go, I will leave you with an excerpt from a poem written by Margaret Wheatly that we studied at the closing of the New Pluralists gathering. Let us stay together and continue to have conversations that can change the world.

Turning to One Another
…
Invite in everybody who cares to work on what’s possible.
Acknowledge that everyone is an expert about something.
Know that creative solutions come from new connections.

Remember, you don’t fear people whose story you know.
Real listening always brings people closer together.

Trust that meaningful conversations can change your world.

Rely on human goodness. Stay together.