Have you ever found yourself with a broken heart? Traced the edges of your wound over and over even though each pass of it's lines with your memory make it bleed ever more painfully? How long do you keep the would fresh, breaking it open every time you begin to forget; just to keep the memory of that relationship close to you because somewhere in your mind you are afraid if it ever heals they will be gone for good? How many times do you promise yourself you are done with love because the pain is not worth the loving?
I love my broken heart. In my mind I hold it up in the light of my memory and carefully trace each scar. Some are small and faint, others longer or darker in color depending on the size of the hurt incurred. One is fresh and still raw, it is the largest of them all. It is healed, but it's tissue is thin and still bruised along the edges. Of all the scars this is my favorite, because this one crosses the entire heart separating it in two. It is the deepest and of all has hurt the most. It is the one that taught me to be thankful for the other scars I had previously been ashamed of.
I am not someone who gives my heart away very easily. If you are over the age of thirteen it takes quite a while to earn my trust and quite a bit more to be given free reign with my heart. That being said, when I do give over my heart it is completely, no holds barred.
Well, a few years back I began a relationship and chose to give 100%. This was unprecedented as I have never given all of my heart in a dating relationship before and to do so without knowing for sure where the other person stood was not something I had ever been willing to do. I was terrified. What if I gambled big and gambled on the wrong person? How would I ever be able to take that chance again? Long story short, we are not together anymore, I gave all of my heart and wound up with it back in my hands in two pieces. For the last year and a half I have been standing there holding that heart and tracing the lines of my wound. Driving myself numb with the pain of it.
What if I had said or done something different? What if I were thinner would he have stayed? What if I were less serious of a person, more fun and engaging? What if my hair were different? If I were better, more kind, more understanding? I racked my mind thinking of things I could have said or done that would have made a difference, but there was no answer. Just a dark cloud that hung over my head raining down doubts and concerns. If he didn't want me would anyone? What's the point of dressing up, who would I dress up for? Why go out, I won't meet anyone and if I did why would they be interested in me anyway? I just need to work on me because there must be something wrong.
The crazy thing is I didn't even realize what I was doing to myself. That I was shutting myself off from happiness so that I could bemoan one relationship in my life. ONE......how many people do I know and love?! And I ignored all of that joy over ONE man.
My slow return to the sunlight began in September of last year. I decided to start writing this blog and focus on the things I love to do for ME. What I have been finding is that I love most to use my heart and love those around me. But I was still nursing that wound.....so it had to go. When you are holding your heart in pieces you only have two options. Keep it broken to remember and protect yourself from using it in the future or recognize that, being the strongest muscle in your body, when muscles repair they become larger and stronger allowing you to love even better than before. Since loving makes me happy my only option was to allow my wounds to heal over completely so that I can love bigger and stronger than ever.
It has been a four month process and it is not entirely over. But with every beat I feel the strength and joy of light and love coursing through me again and it is a beautiful feeling! I wake up in the morning with a smile on my face and cannot wait to see what the day will bring. Sometimes I am so happy I feel like I could fly.
These days when I consider my heart and see it's scarred surface I am glad for the jagged lines. Not glad for the pain incurred or the many bad decisions on mine or the other parties side, but glad for the lessons learned in the process. Thankful that in loving comes healing and strength. My scars make my life and my heart unique. A heart without scars is a heart that has not loved, therefore to me the loving will always be worth the pain.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Saturday, February 11, 2012
The Day I Found My Best Friend
When I was young I knew a girl who was unbelievable. She was always laughing and dancing around, singing songs and writing little poems. I remember how fun it was to be with her and how amazing it was to see the world through her eyes. The simplest things were magical and full of wonder. A lilac bush would somehow become a shadowy castle and we would become princesses hiding from a mighty dragon waiting to pounce. Walks through the pasture were an adventurous trek through the Saharan plain with lions stalking us just beyond the edge of the grass. I mostly remember how completely and fiercely she loved everyone around her. As if she was just waiting for a chance to show you how precious you were to her. She was my best friend.
Life is funny, the people you once held dear grow and change as quickly as you do. Even the ones you never want to lose track of somehow get lost in the shuffle. As the years went by and we both grew I did just that, I lost touch with my best friend and found new friends to take her place. Sure there were times I missed her, wondered how she was doing or what had become of her. But when you lose touch as a child it's much more difficult to find someone again. As the years passed I came to terms with the fact that the impressions made on my life would have to suffice because we would never be able to find one another again. For all I knew she was out there somewhere actually stalking lions on the plains of Africa. I hoped she was.
I have a friend now who tells me rather frequently that I 'think too much', I need to let go of my lovely illusion of control and go for what I am afraid to do. I know he is right, but being the opposite of my dear childhood friend, I find the idea of not 'thinking something through' makes me slightly nauseous. What if I just step off of the edge of a dream and fall into an oblivion? Wouldn't it have been better never to know the feeling of flight than to die in a twisted heap at the bottom of a cavern? But there is the memory of a dreamer I once knew and her memory tells me he is right. I need to start letting go. I will never see my full potential until I can take chances, regardless of what the outcome may be.
Thursday while I was on a run through the neighborhood I was pondering all this and realized I even think too much about how I run. I always hold back just enough strength in case I get too tired. It slows me, but I consider it a fair trade because then I can plan out my energy expenditure to get me through the run with little or no problem. As I ran it hit me, "It's not my body that holds me back, it's all my thinking!" What if I just run as hard as I can for as long as possible without thinking about it? Thankfully at that moment a quick paced song began playing on my ipod and without giving myself time to think I kicked my body into full gear.
It was only about two blocks to my house and I was at the end of my run, but as I rounded the corner I realized I had so much more energy than I thought I could have. My body did not want to stop moving. I was so elated I began a strange dance/run as I passed my neighbors' house. I saw my neighbor sitting in her vehicle as I passed and for a split second thought, "Oh no, you had better stop or she will see you. What if someone else sees." I slowed for a moment but was hit with the longing to just move regardless. For about three minutes I stood in the street dancing for all I was worth, refusing to look up or think of who might see. I danced and sang until I began to laugh out loud with joy...and that is when it happened.
Somehow in the middle of my random gyrations I found her again. My dearest best friend from so long ago. The smile on her face was radiant as she danced around with me in the mid afternoon sun. As the rhythmic beat of a bollywood tune played on we were inside the Taj Mahal at a banquet dancing for royals. In that moment the years faded away and we were as always together, two pieces of the same puzzle. She was, as ever, the best part of who I am. Why all these years have I hidden her from the world? What if I always held her close and told her she was precious and could do anything she set her mind to? What force on this earth could stop us then?
The song ended and I knew my moment was over, but as I started toward my front door I imagined grabbing her still childlike hand in mine and walking into the future together. This time I will not hold her back or leave her behind. After all, everyone needs the best part of them to come out and dance now and again.
Life is funny, the people you once held dear grow and change as quickly as you do. Even the ones you never want to lose track of somehow get lost in the shuffle. As the years went by and we both grew I did just that, I lost touch with my best friend and found new friends to take her place. Sure there were times I missed her, wondered how she was doing or what had become of her. But when you lose touch as a child it's much more difficult to find someone again. As the years passed I came to terms with the fact that the impressions made on my life would have to suffice because we would never be able to find one another again. For all I knew she was out there somewhere actually stalking lions on the plains of Africa. I hoped she was.
I have a friend now who tells me rather frequently that I 'think too much', I need to let go of my lovely illusion of control and go for what I am afraid to do. I know he is right, but being the opposite of my dear childhood friend, I find the idea of not 'thinking something through' makes me slightly nauseous. What if I just step off of the edge of a dream and fall into an oblivion? Wouldn't it have been better never to know the feeling of flight than to die in a twisted heap at the bottom of a cavern? But there is the memory of a dreamer I once knew and her memory tells me he is right. I need to start letting go. I will never see my full potential until I can take chances, regardless of what the outcome may be.
Thursday while I was on a run through the neighborhood I was pondering all this and realized I even think too much about how I run. I always hold back just enough strength in case I get too tired. It slows me, but I consider it a fair trade because then I can plan out my energy expenditure to get me through the run with little or no problem. As I ran it hit me, "It's not my body that holds me back, it's all my thinking!" What if I just run as hard as I can for as long as possible without thinking about it? Thankfully at that moment a quick paced song began playing on my ipod and without giving myself time to think I kicked my body into full gear.
It was only about two blocks to my house and I was at the end of my run, but as I rounded the corner I realized I had so much more energy than I thought I could have. My body did not want to stop moving. I was so elated I began a strange dance/run as I passed my neighbors' house. I saw my neighbor sitting in her vehicle as I passed and for a split second thought, "Oh no, you had better stop or she will see you. What if someone else sees." I slowed for a moment but was hit with the longing to just move regardless. For about three minutes I stood in the street dancing for all I was worth, refusing to look up or think of who might see. I danced and sang until I began to laugh out loud with joy...and that is when it happened.
Somehow in the middle of my random gyrations I found her again. My dearest best friend from so long ago. The smile on her face was radiant as she danced around with me in the mid afternoon sun. As the rhythmic beat of a bollywood tune played on we were inside the Taj Mahal at a banquet dancing for royals. In that moment the years faded away and we were as always together, two pieces of the same puzzle. She was, as ever, the best part of who I am. Why all these years have I hidden her from the world? What if I always held her close and told her she was precious and could do anything she set her mind to? What force on this earth could stop us then?
The song ended and I knew my moment was over, but as I started toward my front door I imagined grabbing her still childlike hand in mine and walking into the future together. This time I will not hold her back or leave her behind. After all, everyone needs the best part of them to come out and dance now and again.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
In the Stillness of Morning
I love early mornings, no love is not strong enough of a word, I adore them. The feeling of quiet peace and joy that overwhelms me when I watch the world wake up is more than I can put into words. Not all mornings are equal. Some are more perfect than others, this morning was a more perfect one. Let me set the scene for you...
It's about 6:30 and the sky is dark. The air is cool, but clouds moved in overnight trapping the dissipating heat of the desert so that there is no biting wind as I ride my bike across campus. While I pedal I am struck with the silence of deserted walkways and buildings. The only sounds I hear are the clicking of my pedals and the constant swish of my bike pants. It is early enough that only the most brave or ludicrous staff members are making their presence known. As I ride the light in the sky changes lazily from cobalt to indigo then navy blue with the edges lined in copper. I can't decide what to watch, the black birds flying silently against a stunning sunrise or the ever swelling light that plays against sandstone and brick buildings bringing out a shy blush from beneath their hard facade. All the while I hear the quiet click clicking of my pedals, like rhythmic waves against the shoreline of my ears. It is as though I can feel the earth shrug off it's blanket and rise for the day. I stop for a moment to soak in the sights and sounds of the day's quiet arousal, as I do I am struck with the knowledge that this is the one moment of my day when the world is perfect. All things are right and my heart is at rest.
Waking from my momentary stupor I see there are several people milling about now, on their way to work or school. A part of me is sad to move forward into the mania that is sure to come, but I am full of hope and joy for what the day will bring. For I know it's secrets. I have stopped and watched the day rise from it's slumber and shake off the encumbering dew of night. I have seen it's beauty and promise in the stillness of morning.
It's about 6:30 and the sky is dark. The air is cool, but clouds moved in overnight trapping the dissipating heat of the desert so that there is no biting wind as I ride my bike across campus. While I pedal I am struck with the silence of deserted walkways and buildings. The only sounds I hear are the clicking of my pedals and the constant swish of my bike pants. It is early enough that only the most brave or ludicrous staff members are making their presence known. As I ride the light in the sky changes lazily from cobalt to indigo then navy blue with the edges lined in copper. I can't decide what to watch, the black birds flying silently against a stunning sunrise or the ever swelling light that plays against sandstone and brick buildings bringing out a shy blush from beneath their hard facade. All the while I hear the quiet click clicking of my pedals, like rhythmic waves against the shoreline of my ears. It is as though I can feel the earth shrug off it's blanket and rise for the day. I stop for a moment to soak in the sights and sounds of the day's quiet arousal, as I do I am struck with the knowledge that this is the one moment of my day when the world is perfect. All things are right and my heart is at rest.
Waking from my momentary stupor I see there are several people milling about now, on their way to work or school. A part of me is sad to move forward into the mania that is sure to come, but I am full of hope and joy for what the day will bring. For I know it's secrets. I have stopped and watched the day rise from it's slumber and shake off the encumbering dew of night. I have seen it's beauty and promise in the stillness of morning.
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