Elephant Hugs Rx

It all started when I went to the Renaissance Festival for my sis-in-law's birthday.

I was hesitant to ride the elephant partly because I didn't want to sit up close next to a stranger, partly because all I saw was little kids riding. All the people would see me. I felt the weight of each pair of eyes in the crowd like a million paparazzi cameras ready to shoot a stack of tabloids and drop them on my head. So I decided not to ride the elephant. Even though, secretly, I was dying to ride the elephant.

Have you ever felt like that? Where there is something you really want to do, but you're too afraid of what everyone will think?


"I'll come with you," my brother said. That was enough encouragement for me. We climbed the stairs and hopped on the elephant. And yes--I sat next to a stranger.

I sat between my brother and an eight year old boy, my "stranger." This only made me feel comfortable. The little boy seemed to be excited about the ride and a little scared of the wobbling. It gave me something to talk about. I told him not to worry, because the elephant would walk very slowly.

The biggest disappointment by far for the little boy was that when we walked past a mud puddle, the elephant did not dip his trunk in and spray us.

We dismounted, and I stopped on the elevated platform before going down the stairs. I hesitated because I didn't know if I was allowed to. But I reached my hand over the railing and touched the elephant's head.

His skin was coarse and cracked with stiff hair. I looked at his big, black, tired eyes as I touched his dirty skin. I was about to turn away, eager to flee before I was "caught," when I saw the elephant's trunk rise toward me. His black eye fixed on me from behind thick eyelashes as he locked his trunk with my arm. His grip was incredibly strong and firm.

As I was standing there, holding the elephant's trunk, I felt some kind of ancient elephant wisdom, which seemed to flow through his trunk and up my arm in pure love and loyalty. In that moment, it didn't seem to matter what anyone thought about me at all. The whole world and all the "paparazzi" in it dropped into obscurity. An elephant had hugged my arm. Suddenly, the foremost opinion in the world  that mattered to me wasn't that of a stranger, a teacher, a coworker, or of a boss. It was of an elephant. An elephant gave me a hug. I walked away with an air of whimsy and love.

Sometimes, I wonder if God's love doesn't manifest itself in animals, who often love people regardless. Perhaps elephants don't forget. But I'm always going to feel better about my inherent worth as a human being when I remember my elephant hug.

In Nepal, an elephant symbolizes mental strength.

Namaste