Open Your Heart
Open Your Heart
It's worth it, even if it breaks it.
I think the bravest thing any human heart can do is love. And love requires us to open our hearts. And doing so calls for vulnerability. It calls for you to be seen. And, that is brave; being seen is brave.
How can I call for you to be brave with me if I'm not with you? The answer is simple, I can't. So, friend, I am here on the porch swing being brave on this most beautiful summer morning. I invite you to kick your shoes off, grab your coffee, and join me in tippy-toes swaying.
This picture was taken in the summer of 2018. It was a first. My Ava Girl and I had our first family photo session with a local photographer who was also brave in her pursuit of showing light in our darkness after my husband and her daddy passed the previous Fall. We were tender-hearted, and all I wanted to do was hide and curl up in the comfort of my home.
I met my late husband (Kurt) when I was 15. I was blessed to have spent 18 1/2 years with him. We lived a lot of life together, and many if not all of my favorite memories included my Best Friend. For those who may be new to my story, the cliff's note's version is that Kurt was diagnosed with a rare form of bone cancer where he fought a valiant fight for just shy of 6-years. In that journey, my Beloved Champion endured 13 life-saving surgeries, one of which was the amputation of his left-side pelvis and leg. Kurt was diagnosed as terminal early in 2017 and got his wings on the most beautiful October 22nd day.
The healing journey has been wild, to say the least. I have found that grief does not follow any sort of rules. And in my experience, there is nothing in print that can quite capture the depth of the shatter of one's heart in those moments. And, because we are all human, we all know grief. I believe grief is the purest form of love. It is love with nowhere to go. And, the heart during grief wants to close. And, that's okay for some time. Having privacy and the quiet of your sacred space is okay to hold those tender moments. And, I think human nature will call our hearts to repeat that pattern because our brains have interpreted that space as safe.
Here's the thing, it takes guts to grieve. And, it takes guts to open up the heart. And, when the dust of your heart is what is left, all the human nature fixing kicks into gear. We want to fix it. That's human nature, too. And we will. We will subconsciously numb with immediate gratification because that dopamine running through our veins feels good. And it will take shape differently for everyone. The slippery slope is the pattern that can take place, and that's when that quiet space is needed. That space of slowing down and allowing the heart to absorb reality to set in just takes time. It is a slow process. And, I think our neuroanatomy was developed in such a way to protect us from the onset of reality hitting us all at one time. So we ebb and flow our unique way through grief.
And, oh my goodness, the "sinking in" of the present moment is where the raw edges of the pain penetrate the heart's core. Sit still in it. Let those tippy-toes sway because, friend, this is where the magic happens. The slow acceptance accompanied by salty tears of grief waves is right where you need to be.
As you release with peace, the heart will slowly begin to open. Let it happen. Let the sun and light touch it. Bring that pain out from the dark and let the light in. Soak it into your body, mind, and spirit. Feel the love of that light opening your heart. Let it run through all of you.
It is vulnerability.
It is brave.
It is worth it to open your heart!
