Life is supposed to be about keeping it simple stupid. Yet today, a drabness overcomes me and mutes me with a darkness to make me question whether my heart exists.
I know what to do though, to connect with my heart and open that love channel again. I’ve learnt how to do it.
So I sit, albeit a squirmy still, close my eyes and search for my heart. To my surprise, I can’t see it or feel it, but I know it’s there pumping life through me.
I look harder and sight nothing but a mass of black, thick tar that has dried rock hard over where my heart should be beating.
I visualise breaking through the crust of the tar, but no a budge, nothing. I can’t see my heart, yet I know it’s suffocating, unable to feel and give. I know I must open it again.
I squint and squeeze to envisage my heart beating under the shiny crust.
More, stronger, forcefully …
And there it goes, bursting, smashing black pieces of rock-solid tar into the air and shooting them off into forever.
Then, the light streams in and out, as sunbeams blazing.
Relief. I’m open again, breathing.
Love can be battering and cloaked from time to time, but it’s an energy that never dies. It can become scared and vulnerable, and can go into hiding. That’s the downside to opening up the heart. It can be so easily hurt and smothered and sometimes feels too hurt to recover. It wants to shutdown forever. And why not? It would save a lot of pain that sometimes, can be too great to acknowledge, let alone overcome.
I refuse to believe that the heart can be restrained or stopped though, or lay dormant for too long. Love never stops. It’s endless. One day, I asked a mother of thirteen how she could love all her children so equally, how she could have that much love for so many. ‘I just do,’ she said to me, calmly and reassuringly. I didn’t understand the concept back then, but I do now.
Listening to one’s heart and love can hurt and send us into a black hole. The trick to recovery is to be gentle and understanding, to allow time for recovery even in the face of a gloom and smother greater than one can imagine.
I think a wise friend understood this when she said to me one day that maybe, KISS should be Keep It Simple Sweetie.
Maybe that’s the secret, to be compassionate to oneself as well as to others. Love is two-way after all.