Yesterday, as I sat down for a cup of coffee in the late morning, I came across this drawing in my little watercolor moleskin. It is of a woman with her heart ripped out. Her face and head were a bit different. There was no background. I don't remember the incident (or if there actually was one) that propelled her into being. But there she was. And so I took out my small travel watercolor set, each tiny colored cake all wrapped up in cellophane and brand new, and I painted her to existence.
Sometimes in life, I imagine we all feel this way. Someone disappoints. Someone leaves. We fall critically short of our desires. And our heart doesn't just break, it seems torn out and shredded. Eventually, slowly perhaps, we come into the mending. Our sadness is sewn together with small threads of kindness, time, and hope. The stitches may hurt. We are vulnerable beings when we are being true and not covering all with bravado and beer. If you are one who is especially emotional, you might not just wear your heart on your sleeve, but carry its dilapidated carcass right out there for all to see. Being human is not for the weak.
Wherever you find yourself this morning, in the mending or riding high with joy, take a little time to be kind to yourself. Be aware of your fragility and sacred life. I give thanks for these bits of myself, painful at times, but they are what make me so alive.
The added color makes her uplifting and positive. She shows that we can mended. Lovely Kelly.
Posted by: theresa | July 24, 2013 at 11:58 AM
I remember the Day and I was an adult that Daddy told me "If I were going to wear my heart on my sleeve it was going to get knocked off." Little did he know it'd been ripped from my chest and barely hanging onto my sleeve. As you said, little by little, love and time have helped to sew it back together but my faith is the glue that keeps it in place. I love you, Sister.
Posted by: Bethany | July 25, 2013 at 07:38 AM