Radical Love in the Library: Seeing the Humanity in Everyone

 Getting to the Heart of Library Work

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”

— Rumi

When I think of the library, I think about how much I love being surrounded by books and people all day long. I learned about the concept of radical love a very long time ago and I have always been fascinated by the work of the poet Rumi. Radical love is at the very heart of what we library workers do, especially when we serve those the world has overlooked.

Radical love is not cutesy hearts, flowers or hugs and kisses. It’s not warm and fuzzy. It’s not passive. It’s absolutely fierce. It’s uncomfortable and pushes you out of your comfort zone more times than you will know. It requires presence, humility, and the willingness to sit beside someone dealing with internal pain. The key here is that you can't try to erase their pain, but instead, you must embrace it. 

Let's Talk More About Radical Love

Radical love is the kind of love that reaches past convenience and Rumi well-known for writing about this in his poems. Radical love is a love that sees the humanity in everyone and everything. It is not bound by titles, appearances, or how you feel. It is the kind of love that walks straight into the places others turn away from very much like the things we see on the daily at the library. poverty, addiction, grief, fear. Radical love speaks to our vulnerable neighbors, “You belong here too.”

In library work, we are invited on the daily into opportunities to practice this love.

When we speak kindly to someone who’s unhoused.
When we offer warmth to someone who’s angry.
When we are welcoming to someone who’s afraid to ask for our help.

Radical love is not about being perfect or endlessly self-sacrificing. It’s about recognizing our shared humanity and responding with empathy, not ego.

Love as a Path

Rumi’s version of love isn’t something you fall into. It is a path. A discipline. A practice. A way of returning to the heart again and again. When you think about library work, isn’t that what our calling is after all?

Library work challenges us to let go of our assumptions, check our reactions, and show up with compassion, even when we’re tired, even when we don’t get recognition, even when we ourselves are hurting.

There have been many moments in my own journey over the last twenty years in libraries when I realized:

I’m not here to fix people. I’m here to listen to them. Walk beside them. Hold space for their light, even if they can’t see it yet.

Radical love in the library is about choosing compassion, not because it’s easy, but because it’s necessary. It reminds us that our patrons are not problems to be managed, they are people to be seen.

The Poetry of Service and Connection

“Be like a tree and let the dead leaves drop."

— Rumi

There’s something sacred about serving those who are in need and there’s something poetic about connection that blooms in unexpected places. When someone walks through our doors and feels unseen, ignored, or written off by the world, we have the power to "drop our dead leaves" and help them. With one smile, with one hello, we can transform lives.

These are the moments that stay with us 🦋
The teen who finally feels safe enough to open up.
The elderly patron who finds comfort in friendly conversations.
The person experiencing homelessness who smiles when you say hello or welcome.

Radical love is poetry in motion. It is the line between silence and kindness. The rhythm of showing kindness and compassion again and again. This kind of service allows the dead leaves to drop and new foliage to bloom.

Libraries as Sacred Ground

When we root our work in radical love, the library becomes more than a resource hub, it becomes sacred ground. A place where equity lives, where hope can breathe, where transformation quietly takes root. We don't have to call it spiritual. We don't have to name it anything at all. We know it when we feel it. That still, quiet moment when someone realizes they are welcome in the library makes all the difference in the world.

Reflect With Me

Here are a few reflection questions to consider as you think about radical love in your own library work, especially if you're navigating burnout, compassion fatigue, or disconnection:

• When was the last time you offered a welcoming smile to someone who didn’t expect it and how did it make you feel?

• What barriers have you had to release in order to serve with your heart?
  
  

• Can you remember a time when someone offered you radical love in your work or life?

Final Thoughts

Radical love doesn’t ask us to fix everything. It asks us to show up. To listen and to remember that the library is more than just a building. It’s a place where everyone should be met with warmth. Where the overlooked are welcomed. Where the work of transformation is happening, but very quietly, on most days.

If you’re doing even just a little right now, you’re already walking that path, so kudos to you!

Here’s to the poetry of your service. Here’s to radical love, even when it’s hard. Here’s to seeing the humanity in every person who walks through our doors.

With fierce love,
the Compassionate Librarian

Out of the Cave and Into the Library: Finding Light in a World of Shadow

 

Why Are We Hiding in the Shadows?

 

“Awakening is like turning on a light. You can’t make someone see it, but once you do, you can never unsee the truth.”

— Unknown

A Peek Into Plato’s Cave

There’s a reason Plato’s Allegory of the Cave still echoes through time. It’s not just a tale from ancient philosophy, it’s a story grounded in reality.

Imagine this, you’ve been living in a dark cave your entire life, chained in place, only able to see the wall in front of you. Behind you, there’s a fire. And between the fire and your back are people walking by, carrying objects, but you can’t see them. You can only see their shadows on the wall. That’s your whole world. The shadows become your truth.

Then one day, you break free. You stumble out of the cave and into the light. At first, it’s blinding. Confusing. Overwhelming. But slowly, your eyes adjust. You begin to see what the world really looks like—color, form, depth, real people and not just shadows.

And here’s the twist, once you understand the truth, you feel called to go back into the cave. To help others wake up. To say, “Hey… what you’re seeing isn’t the whole story.”

But not everyone wants to hear about it. Because stepping into the light means letting go of what’s familiar.

Plato’s cave is a metaphor for the illusions we live with, the beliefs we don’t question, and the journey toward deeper awareness. It’s about awakening. More importantly, it’s about the courage it takes to go back and hold the light for others.

We’ve all been there, haven’t we? Sitting in a dark cave, staring at the flickering shadows on the wall, wondering how to get out or if we even can. Maybe it’s a job, a fear, a system, or even a version of yourself you never meant to become. The shadows become familiar. Even comforting.

And then something shifts.

Suddenly, you’re stumbling toward the light, blinking your way into a new way of thinking or feeling. Sometimes we assume things will always stay the same, and we grow complacent. Do you want to know what I think? You can break free. It might not look the way you might expect it to be, but it’s possible.

For me, that realization first came when I read Plato’s Allegory of the Cave. It was a true aha! moment for me. I began to see that I didn’t have to stay in the dark. That I could choose to step toward the light, even if it was uncomfortable at first. Even if I had to find my own way. I've had to do that many times in my life, I went through a horrible divorce, awful custody battle, dealt with cancer, and lost loved ones. 

The Library as a Threshold

Because I'm a librarian through and through, it means a lot to me to relate this idea of going from the shadows to the light in relation to the library and the work we do. The library is so much more than a building filled with books. It’s a definitely a space for expansion, a threshold between who we are and who we’re going to be. I'm not the same person that I was when I started working in a library all those years ago. Ultimately, when you work in a library you realize that it’s a place where your perception of reality gets challenged and your creativity can bloom.

In a world that is constantly telling us who we are and who we’re supposed to be, libraries whisper, “What do you want to be?” Libraries push our boundaries and stretch us. We can't be contained in the "cave" because as the years go by we expand and grow. This reminds me of when I first started working in a public library. I'd just finished graduate school and was feeling somewhat lost. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. What was my career path? I wondered, would it magically appear for me? My first few months working in the library I knew this was place and these were my people. From there, I made the decision to go back to school and get my master's in library science. 

I've been working in libraries now for twenty years and for me it is more than just a workplace, it's a place of awakening. Through books, conversations, programs, and working closely with vulnerable community  members I have been able to help so many people. I have witnessed the good and unfortunately the difficult unfold. I will always cherish those small moments like when I helped an underprivileged teen find other teens to bond and socialize with, or when someone who is unhoused whispers “thank you” because they finally felt seen.

The Shadows Still Linger

Let’s be honest: even in libraries there are shadows. These are the shadows we’re still fighting everyday. Censorship, underrepresentation, misinformation, burnout, and the invisible systems that shape who gets to speak and who gets silenced. We should not fear these shadows, that’s also why we do the work we do and why it matters. Because we’re not just reading books all day long (although, that's what many people think), we are actually holding up the lanterns to light the way through the shadows. We need to keep walking, even when the light is uncomfortable. We must continue to walk through the shadows ourselves.

Searching for the Light, Together

Plato’s cave isn’t just about leaving the shadows, it’s about returning and going back for the others. It's about carrying the light with you, even when you’re tired, even when your voice shakes, even when no one applauds you for it and this happens so much in the library world. I hope you will believe in illumination over illusion. Keep up the work you are doing, you matter, your questions matter, taking care of yourself matters, and your transformation matters.

Maybe that’s why I’m still here. I feel like I've wanted to give up so many times and move on from the library. There's this voice inside of me that says, you're not done yet and this keeps me hanging on. 

Stepping Out Beyond the Cave

Awakening doesn’t always feel like a grand moment. Sometimes it’s quiet. Sometimes it’s painful. Sometimes, it’s just choosing to ask one more question, pick up one more book, or believe in one more possibility. Sometimes, it’s when you feel the most lost and lonely and then suddenly, you find a little piece of yourself and you come back into the light.

We don’t escape the cave once and for all. We do it over and over again. When we choose growth over standing still. When we question what we’ve been told. When we decide to turn and face the light. In the end, the journey out of the cave isn’t about having all the answers, it's about moving forward and embracing the change. It’s about knowing you can keep seeking and maybe, just maybe it's about turning around and offering your hand to someone else who’s still hanging in the shadows.

Thank you for joining me on this journey through the Consciousness Archives. I'll be back next week to offer more thought provoking ideas on the interconnectedness and mutual interdependence of all things in the universe and of course that includes my favorite place, the library!

Here's to seeing the light,

the Compassionate Librarian

Welcome to The Consciousness Archives

 

                    The Consciousness Archives:

A cosmic exploration of spirit, storytelling, and the soul of librarianship

I am putting this new blog series out into the universe. The focus is somewhere between the nature of consciousness and the chaos of the returns desk, between ancient myths and modern burnout, between sacred scrolls and staff meetings. That's a lot of wide open space to cover and a lot of cosmic energy to summon, and yet that's exactly where this new blog series belongs. 

Let's dig deep into the depths of our library souls and focus on:

Why we do what we do
Who we are beneath the badge, the title, and the book bag

Libraries are in a state of emergency

Emotionally - Spiritually - Existentially

We are underfunded, undervalued, and overextended. Or as George Washington in Hamilton would say, "We are outgunned, outmanned, outnumbered, and outplanned."

Here's an idea: Let's weaponize our compassion. Let's set our energy together, collectively.
Think about this too. 

Why do we stay? 

We do we keep showing up?

This is why: We fan the flames of truth and information, we share the stories, and we are the protectors of the library.

My plan for this blog is big. I want it to be a space to remember what’s been lost, and to never doubt that there is still so much hope and possibility for libraries still. 

What this series is about:

• A reflective, sometimes playful, always meaningful exploration of the deeper dimensions of library work.

• A fusion of myth, metaphor, philosophy, psychology, and good library spirit.

• A personal archive of insights drawn from my experiences as a library manager, educator, mentor, and survivor of more than one epic workplace plot twist.

What It Is Not About:

It’s not about fixing the system it’s about reclaiming what's been hollowed out within it.

What You’ll Find In The Consciousness Archives:

• Musings about the shadow side of librarianship.

• Reflections on burnout, resilience, leadership, and many stories.

• Thoughtful experiments 

• Invitations to explore your own personal myth or bag o’ burdens (yes, you’re allowed to unpack it here).

• Consciousness-raising activities and journal prompts to reconnect with your inner library spirit.

This is the series I wish had existed when I was burning out in silence.
This is for the library worker crying in the breakroom.
This is for the library student unsure if they made the right choice.
This is for the library staff that want to change careers

This is for you if you're reading this. 
Because maybe, just maybe, it's not about archiving files and books right now.
Maybe it's about archiving the human experience.

Let’s get cosmic

Let’s get conscious

Let’s remember who we are

The Consciousness Archives begins now.

Stay strong,

the Compassionate Librarian