It’s that season again.
I would like to thank whoever made February the shortest month of the year. It’s the height of flu season. It is the ugliest part of winter. For some, February is also a reminder of loss and loneliness. Across the country, elementary school kids are cutting pink and red construction paper into the shape of little butts, but no amount of glitter and paste can fix a broken heart.
As street vendors wrap cellophane around flowers, and piles of stuffed animals wait patiently in bins parked strategically next to cheap chocolates and overpriced cards… I am focused on two hearts that are not the same as they were a year ago.
A lyric comes to mind: “Owner of a lonely heart (Much better than a) Owner of a broken heart.”
I’ve written a lot about hearts. How they break into pieces. But after this past year, I don’t think that’s how it works. I believe the heart stays intact. We let people in, and our heart becomes full. The heart is a muscle. It flexes and stretches and wraps around whoever is there. When someone walks out of your heart, it feels different. Beats different. Sounds different.
The trick is to invite people in to your new heart. Fill it back up. The same as any other work out, make love part of your daily routine.
Like any muscle, the heart has memory. With a little help, it will begin to beat the same… feel the same. And you will once again recognize the sound of your own beating heart.