And we can also ask the same of ourselves: If we can’t love ourselves at our most imperfect, what good is love?
My friend Rachel Maizes wrote a beautiful piece in the New York Times this past week about her relationship with her dog. I’m clearly not the only one who was moved by Rachel’s sharing; her piece was among the most e-mailed articles in the past week and generated over 500 comments on the NYT site.
The paragraph that most moved me was this one:
It’s easy to love a well-behaved dog. It’s harder to love Chance, with his bristly personality and tendency toward violence. Yet in the end, I measure the success of my relationship with Chance by its challenges, because if I can’t love him at his most imperfect what use is love?
Take out “Chance” and insert “people” and Rachel makes a point that is true beyond her relationship with her dog.
It is, of course, easy to love those who are good to us, who don’t make…
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