When the short, old, white guy in a blue jacket drops by the café where I write, like clockwork, a couple of beefy regulars SHOUT, jumping out of their seats, and one-by-one, heave their hulking bodies into his arms for a hug.
Joe holds the tender brutes to his small, sturdy chest, everyone laughs and the room heats up. I’ve been eyeing this hugger for months, I can’t hold back anymore, so I stand in line and put in my request:
What’s up with all the hugs?
The all-knowing owner of the café arrives with coffee and tea.
I look at Joe, searching.
He says, it is, and smiles.
Is what? I squint.
What is, is. The owner speaks for his friend. He has hugged Joe for years.
Joe’s eyes shine.
It’s spontaneous. It’s not their bodies, it’s their souls touching mine.
I am irritated and intrigued. I had imagined he was a 12-step superstar, a mafia don or a lion king. I feel a trickling doubt that this guy is for real, and have an increasingly urgent need to know why people hug him and who the freak he is.
I am nothing, Joe smiles.
I don’t.
He says he’s a spiritual being having a human experience, part of the greater whole. He’s not a thing. Just like us.
I am you. I’m hugging me, he says.
My fire burns. I want to believe him but my attachment, my ego and my outrage hold me back.
What about pain and loss, I ask, what about grief?
If you like, he shrugs, but he prefers to… appreciate. And, there is no death, he adds, so, that helps.
The owner whoops behind the counter.
The joint fills up for lunch. It hits me that I want to tell this self-named average Joe all my worries and fears. I want to tell him that the world is falling apart, people I love are hurting, and my father died last year. I can’t look into his eyes, but suddenly, I yearn for his arms. He asks if I’d like a hug. Despite some manufactured cool, I flood with light.
We stand up in the crowd, and I fall into a warm embrace, a rush of love and the arms of my late Dad, the hugging king.
Everyone is happy, Joe speaks softly in my ear, but they don’t know it because they’re distracted.
I look around. For one shining moment in the café, everyone hears.
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Art for ‘Free Hugs’ by the very excellent David Dixon of Bring Me the Head of David Dixon.
For more posts about Joe and the café, click here!
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47 Responses to Free Hugs
I love that feeling when I meet someone really special. It sounds like your dad gave a hug from beyond!
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My Dad gave great hugs.
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Hi Brenda Good post.
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Thanks, Bryan!
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Finally! I was waiting on this one about the not average Joe for awhile! Great scene in the cafe. I’m stuck on ‘I want to believe him but my attachment, my ego and my outrage hold me back.’ I want to know more about that. Could you dissect it further? (Really don’t mean to put you on the spot.)
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Great post, as usual. Love, love the images.
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David Dixon. He nails our aching human heart.
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this is so special and unique – your art and diagram has important meaning in our life!
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That’s lovely, thank you!
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It is indeed, all about love. Lovely, Brenda.
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Thanks, Dawn. Your blog is imbued.
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Perhaps, but imbued with…? 😉
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Your heart.
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I need a hug now, Brenda. At my husband’s school, the students give out free hugs on special days, advertised as such! I soaked in this whole scene you described, both strange and wonderful. You can feel the love in that video.
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My father taught me how to send a virtual hug: close your eyes and breathe in, from my heart to yours. Tickled pink to hear about the free hugs at your husband’s school, Amy. Spread the word!
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A flood of emotions ending in a crescendo. Coming here always feels like a warm, generous embrace, Brenda. And of course, I love the collaboration!! Fantastic.
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I like a crescendo after a flood. David and I thank you.
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I have two designated huggers in my life. We see each other every day, and we always stop whatever we’re doing when we see each other for an extended hug, complete with grunts and growls of satisfaction. It really feels great.
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Love the sound of those hugs. Welcome, PenMan!
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I get the hugs … some are just braver than others to give them out so generously.
One day, when my family and I lived in London, UK, we made a trip to Speakers Corner. Standing there, among all those shouting this and that, was a young guy holding a sign saying “Free Hugs”. I asked him why he was giving out free hugs and he said “because”. It was a very convincing reply, so I graciously accepted and gave a hug. It felt wonderful to hug a stranger who for that moment was no longer stranger. He then hugged my two daughters. He definitely brightened our spirits and made our day Can you image if we hugged more generously how many days would be made … and so easily?
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A hug – so easy, so free! Thanks for sharing your story and inspiration, Miriam. Now, let’s get out there and open our arms!
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Beautiful words strung together to teach the lesson of Love. I have been lucky to come into my own that way and have come to realize that love can literally change your world despite all the obstacles. and it excites me when the truth heard and told by someone as brilliant as you. Thank you!
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Love is the drug and I am happy for you. Welcome!
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Hugs can move mountains! Clicking the follow button 🙂
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Welcome, Christy!
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Oh gosh, Brenda…how the world needs more of this.
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Spread the word, Dani, and hug someone now. If you’re alone, hug yourself!
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Reblogged this on Thai Fancy Pants and commented:
I am irritated and intrigued. I had imagined he was a 12-step superstar, a mafia don or a lion king. I feel a trickling doubt that this guy is for real, and have an increasingly urgent need to know why people hug him and who the freak he is.
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Thanks for the re-blog, Mike. Welcome!
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What a lovely, deep and thought provoking post. Loved it!
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Joe and I thank you kindly.
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[…] NEWS FLASH: I just bumped into Joe the hugger at the café and after our hug, asked him for some good news. He told me it’s very […]
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I’m so not a hugger. I can always happily pass those over.
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[…] NEWS FLASH: Here it comes, when we need it most. My people, it’s all about the hug. Open your arms and please […]
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Love this. There is so much that transpires in a hug… more than words can say… it’s what the heart feels. 🙂
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Joe says that when people hug him – it’s not with their bodies, it’s with their souls.
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❤
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Reblogged this on Karls Blog, feelings from the pit.
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Lovely post, and sentiments. So much can be said with a hug, but no matter the context, it all does come from love. As physical beings, we sense so much through touch. The words, “I love you,” are meaningful, but with physical contact to back it up, with someone to hold us when we laugh, when we cry, when we fall short, that makes such an impact.
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I am a serial hugger. Sounds like you might be, too.
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[…] chugging kale in a San Francisco juice bar, contemplating my aching heart and Joe the hugger in Montreal. He’s the wise man at my café, who the tough guys are nuts about and heave-ho their […]
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[…] in my arms at the café, Abigail opens her tiny mouth and starts to wail. Wise, old Joe the hugger walks in to the crowded, noisy room, I dance over and drop the baby into his […]
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Nothing like a hug to make you feel warm and connected, right! A wonderful little story. 🙂
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I know and celebrate the glory of a hug. Thanks, Otto!
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[…] pal Joe the hugger puts down his coffee and opens his arms. Stop trying, he smiles, just be what […]
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[…] ‘Average Joe’ (won’t show his face because he “doesn’t matter”) […]
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[…] primo pal Joe is trying to leave the coffeeshop, but I block the door, won’t let him go. We’ve already […]
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