The Power of Llove

It sort of fluctuates depending on geography and back pain, but I am very blessed to be able to rather regularly tag along when my friend Lori takes her amazing therapy camelids out visiting.  And by camelids, we are talking llamas and alpacas.  Llamas and alpacas of the most fabulous variety.  We go to schools, hospitals, and retirement homes to help share some llama llove.  We walk in parades and attend charity fund-raisers and do special events to add a little pizzazz to the festivities.  After over three years of hanging with Lori and Rojo and the gang, I am still lloving every second and can’t believe how whackadoodle fun my life is!  And Rob remains thrilled that I seem content to get my llama fix with somebody else’s llivestock.

Over the weekend, Rob and I joined Lori and her husband and two favorite llamas for a fun Halloween-themed festival in a Portland suburb.   And to the casual passer-by or stand-and-gawker, I’m sure it looked like I was simply standing there, chatting, handing out business cards with web links, and occasionally sneaking a cuddle with a llama.  And I do indeed do those things.  But I really feel, more and more, that my job on these outings is to encourage people.  Encourage them to step a little closer.  Encourage them to pet Rojo’s wooly neck.  Encourage them to discover how much like a stuffed animal his body feels.  Encourage them to feed him.  Encourage them to pose for a picture.  Encourage them to have courage.

I suppose it really is not surprising how many people – of all ages – are hesitant when they first encounter one of Lori’s animals.  Llamas are big and unfamiliar and unexpected.  I am always fascinated by how some people just walk right up and hug and pet and smile at Rojo or Smokey…and then start asking questions.  Other people stand and stare and then sidle up to me to find out what the animals are and why they are so calm.  Still others, the ones I am most drawn to, hang back a bit and are hesitant.  They are quiet and uncertain.  Many seem shy and while they might desperately want to interact with the animals, they are reluctant to ask permission.  If left to their own devices, they eventually turn around and walk away, mostly unnoticed and definitely unllama-ed.  I have made it my mission to seek these people out.  For I, too, am shy at my core.  I spent most of my childhood painfully quiet in social situations.  I know I missed out on some of life’s gifts because I was too intimidated to ask, to step forward, to be noticed.  I know that look of desire mixed with fear.  I know that disheartening immobilization and prickly feeling on my skin when I know I should be able to do something but just can’t seem to muster the courage. 

And so I stand there with the llamas, my adult self with more confidence and ease among people I don’t know.  And I look around for my younger self.  I find her and I speak quietly.  I offer answers to questions that haven’t been asked yet.  I lead by example by casually petting and hugging the soft llama fur.  And nine times out of ten, with just a little nudge, a fear is conquered, a heart sings, and a memory is made. 

Hopefully for them, too.