Maybe I'm feeling my age? Maybe. Maybe I've just gotten used to feeling nothing at all? Maybe. Maybe my strength is a Halloween mask. Maybe. Maybe I'm on the brink of something. Likely.
But I know when I wake up with that much force, that much direction, my being that walks the night air is trying to get something through to me.
I began a journal entry with all the perfunctory things that I should be doing for my health, in particular my heart health. I made a list of stops and starts. (i.e. stop eating late at night, stop stressing so much, stop with butter...start planning better, start eating 'clean' meals, start upping your fiber etc etc)
Then the list of better choices ensued and ones that I would actually intake on a daily basis (read: I'm not a salmon girl, save your $ it's just not in the cards for me) So after that list came the all encompassing "Manage your Stress' heading and then my hand stopped on the page. Free writing took over, just began spilling out of me like the hypnotic steaming faucet of bath water that has always calmed me. And what follows, is what I believe to be (if you will) the heart of the matter...
Your heart was hurt when you were small.
So you learned to hurt others.
Your safety was violated
over and over again.
So you blocked it.
Your heart was hurt from an innocent childhood lack
it was a toy thrown away
So one day YOU threw YOU away.
Your heart was hurt with your first love,
his was too, but your heart was all you knew.
Your heart was light and safe for a while
then strangled and crushed under the weight of
not happily ever after.
So you pushed it further away, your heart that was hurting you.
If you could have ripped it out and threw it in a glass shard gutter to get the hurt gone
YOU WOULD HAVE.
Your heart sang with Baby #1 and then became a chorus with Baby #2.
It almost broke you; the fear of that happiness for you never had known that your heart could do that.
Then your heart hurt when you knew you had to go it alone.
So you built a wall, a layer, and another to tuck your heart away.
Only the boys, your angels, could scale that wall and get to you.
You tried again twice for happy ever after and your heart was disappointed and lonely both times.
You breathe loneliness with a laugh, that hides a choke, that hides a tear...every day.
And that little girl heart came to visit because the grownup you are was the only one
she trusted
to tell the truth to.
And here you sit.
With your layers.
And your walls.
Never realizing the self perpetuating light that your heart really is.
All that. All this.
And still it beats.
Maybe what you never had
was with you the whole time.
Quietly beating this whole time.
Quietly waiting this whole time.
Maybe it was just you...
Maybe you were the one.
The only one.
The only one that mattered.
Maybe it was you the whole time
that needed to love
your heart.
Namaste
