I’ve held myself back to keep my heart intact and safe from breaking.
But what if my heart needs no protection? And what if a broken heart is not something to be afraid of?
What if the entire purpose of being pushed to that point of fear and confrontation, to reckon with the possibility of loss and loneliness, and sometimes even the reality of it, is only to have my heart broken again, and again and again?
What if the entire purpose of having a beating heart full of life, and every emotion within, is to be given umpteen opportunities to crack it wide open?
What would happen if I were to live my life with love — through my heart first, and then my hands and at the very end, my head?
What if I’ve been afraid of the wrong thing all along? What if the thing that ought to petrify me is a a heart so protected, so safe it’s fortified and closed up?
And what if, what I don’t know at all is that there’s an immense strength in a heart that’s wide open? Exposed, vulnerable and out there for all to see?
What if I’ve got it wrong all along!
Closing my heart up has cost me deeply. It’s caused me distance — not just from people around me but from me and my own authentic self and my needs.
In keeping my heart so safe from being seen, I’ve kept myself and all that needs to be seen away from my own eyes.
Suddenly, I need to be seen. Most of all, with my own eyes and from my own heart.
When I live my life through my head first, I build an overly cognitive, cerebral and intellectualised version of my reality. A reality of verbiage that creates a buzz and chatter in my head and an increasing loss of contact with my heart.
What I want now, is to go deeper and begin with my heart. To ask myself the harder questions.
What are the things that most make my heart close up?
Why is Open such a fearful place to be?
What is it that I really want? What am I really afraid of?
What compels me to do the things I do?
Who am I truly upset at? What am I really hurting about?
When I operate from fear and hurt, am I making space to allow for the things I think I want?
How can I most help myself?
How can I be present to the truest version of my emotional reality?
Who am I, really? What makes my heart sing?
Ironically, asking these questions has in the past, cost me the very same love, support and presence of people that I am deathly afraid of losing to begin with. I was so quick to presume that asking these questions and showing my true self will be too much for them to take. That they may judge me, feel overwhelmed and unable to handle it. Or worse, that they may leave.
But the truth is, that may very well be the case.
And even so, it must be done anyway. But more and more, I’m finding the capacity to encounter fear, to believe in other possibilities. To take a chance. To throw caution to wind. To question the deeply ingrained notion that my heart needs walls and walls of protection. To resist the fear. And to ask, what if, in a wild twist of fate, they stay?
One year ago: We are children that need to be loved