My mother would tell the story that as a child I would come home from preschool and watch back-to-back episodes of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood. We had access to two different PBS stations, and she would come in and change the channel at the mid-way point so I could watch the second one. She would say that at the end of that episode, she’d hear me sigh a deep sigh, turn off the television, take a moment, and then come and find her to talk about our days.
Even now, when I hear Mister Rogers’ voice, I feel a humming of peace inside me. The little child within calms the adult me as she reaches toward those memories and feelings from so long ago. I know that a big reason why I felt this was because when you watched his show, Fred Rogers would talk directly to the camera. In my world, he was talking just to me. I felt seen. I felt like someone was taking me seriously. I felt like I wasn’t the only one who had big feelings.
The way Fred moved through the world was a master class in connection through vulnerability. He wasn’t afraid to say “I like you just the way you are,” and “I’m proud of you. I hope that you’re as proud as I am.” Over time, little kid me began to whisper those words to herself. I learned to be vulnerable by watching an adult practice it in front of me.
As I open my store each day, start writing an email to the students taking my online classes, or sit down with a friend, I walk in Fred’s footsteps. I hope the people I connect with feel seen by my words, questions, and stories shared. There’s a choice I try to make each time though – a choice to hold hands with courage and vulnerability so I can show up as my full self.
For example, if you looked in at me with someone in my shop, it might look like I’m just helping them choose a scarf or journal for a friend. If you look closer, you’d see I’m also listening, being curious and present, and at times pushing through my own nerves or assumptions as I try to create space where the other person can share about themselves. Yes, I love that their loved one will think of them when they wear the scarf or use the journal. And, even more importantly, I hope they will leave my space feeling connected and seen, at least for a little while.
Because here’s what I know: our days will include grief and overwhelm, anxiety and uncertainty, so we might as well walk through it side by side. Connection is what helps us remember we aren’t alone in the tough stuff. When we choose to open our hearts to someone we’ve never met, (and to those we deeply know), we create opportunity for growth, belonging, and love. Every day we get the chance to practice this as we move through the world. Connection helps us remember that we get to hold the light and joy alongside the difficult things.
As Mister Rogers reminds us, “In times of stress, the best thing we can do for each other is to listen with our ears and our hearts and to be assured that our questions are just as important as our answers.”