Cradling the warm bowl of soup
I sip
palms tingle as I hug the bowl
Heated liquid slides down my throat
and starbursts fill my chest
All I have
I offer to you
and my hands are no less warm
my heart no less heated
for what is shared
becomes multiplied
*Care is more than something we receive. It’s something we hold, and in holding it for others, it also holds us.
Steve had his surgery this week, which had me thinking about how care moves between people—like a quiet currency. It costs something, yes, time, energy, patience. But it also gives back in many ways too.
When we offer real, present care to someone, whether in a hospital hallway or at home after surgery, we’re not just doing a task. We’re transmitting calm, compassion, and dignity. And in doing so, we can’t help but feel those same things ripple through us.
I’ve stepped into the role of carer again this week, and it’s reminded me that what we give, we also carry. Kindness leaves a trace. Tenderness doesn’t disappear after it’s offered—it stays with the giver, too.
This is the true currency of care:
It flows in both directions.
It softens what’s hard.
And it changes us from the inside out.
Reveries Journal No. 8 is also published today and holds the same threads as this post and expands on the story a little. If you would like to read on, the post is here
