Recalling Dr. Love

Remember Dr. Leo Buscaglia? You may, but not for his Navy stint or his three degrees - but for his moniker, the Love Doctor. That title pushed the popularity of his books (five of them NYT bestsellers at the same time), the waiting list for his seminars at the University of Southern California and his glorious appearances on PBS specials.

I read his books, watched the specials and consciously tried to incorporate Buscaglia philosophy into my own - with pitiful success. Did you know he was an early town crier for the benefits of hugging? He purported that humans need daily 5 to survive, 8 to maintain and 12 to thrive.

Hugging friends and neighbors and strangers in need is probably not back to its meager pre-pandemic status. I have a gut-wrenching fear that our children are truly suffering in this department, amplified by the predominance of isolating screen time. At the least we should be hugging our families. Can’t we give authentic hugs even with a phone in hand?

But hugging is not what triggered my Dr. Love recollections. It’s leaves - the thick layer of oak leaves randomly swirling in my yard. They will be addressed in early spring when I worry about stepping on snakes. That doesn’t mean they will then be raked or mulched, unless they’re in flower beds or up against the house. It means I will wear my boots in the yard.

Buscaglia had a story about neighbors - neighbors who raked their yards - interrupting a home seminar with a query about the leaves in his. As the story goes, he had the students, who were at that point angry at those neighbors and full of ideas about what he should have told them, go out and rake the leaves and scatter them on his living room floor. He demonstrated compromise; he continued to enjoy his leaves and his neighbors, who were nice neighbors, were happy, too.

Another Buscaglia memory surfaced after I read ‘Out and About’ on page four in last week’s Prospect-News. It began, “Can you recall a time that you may have felt frustration while standing in line to be waited on?” Can’t we all? Buscaglia urged folks to “Get in line and have fun.” We can be patient and kind, too, as the customers were in that Ripley County business.

Remember - in this hectic season - and resolve - in 2024 - to do this, as written by Lori McKenna and recorded by Tim McGraw: “...When you get where you’re goin’, don’t forget to turn back around and help the next one in line. Always stay humble and kind.”