As Simple As That

kristen definitely took this in Ireland.

I feel like my heart is this centerpiece consisting of brambles and barbed wire and a freshly capped layer of snow. And it looks pretty from afar, but the nearer one draws to it, the more frigid it appears. It is all bent angles and scrawny sticks and icy cold, and I try to avoid doing anything that will nudge it in the slightest, for fear of it changing in any way.  I think my subconscious realizes what a hazard this poses in my everyday life more than my heart itself does. To be locked up, clenched in a sheath of ice with the intentions of resisting the urge to thaw is perhaps even more dangerous. More dangerous than plowing off a cliff. More dangerous than zippered lips in the face of a time when speaking up is beyond necessary. More dangerous than dreaming on a tank running out of hope. More dangerous than doing the one thing every zealously protected heart fears the most- letting that guard down. It really is as simple as that.

            “How frail the human heart must be- a mirrored pool of thought.” Sylvia Plath, one of my favorite authors and poets, has a vastly crucial point in understanding the concept of the guarded heart. To relinquish every fence, every moat, every border of protection surrounding the most vulnerable piece of ourselves is very difficult because of how weak we are. Our hearts reflect the dangling trains of thought as they weave through our brains, control our impulses, even try to rein us in when all we want to do is seize the day. And sometimes, we let it. We let it take control. Because let’s face it. Man is probably the most well-known for our mistakes. Stemming from that fateful day in the Garden and spiraling into the wars, the thievery, and the heartbreaking we do today, we have not seemed to figure out the secret to cleaning up our messes and learning from our past actions that have caused so much hurt and turmoil to those in our wake. So it makes complete sense that we don’t want to let all those waves of malevolence into our souls. It makes sense to neglect the outer rims of our hearts, let the tips freeze over to make it less appealing to the naked and curious eye.

            But Plath ends the thought with such a reasonable statement that I cannot help but realize that it’s time we all stop shoving everything away, and be more less like a Keep Out sign and more like a Welcome Mat. (Although I'm certainly not saying to open up shop for every grubby fist who tries to pry its way in.) For the heart is an “instrument of glass” that can either “sing or weep.” And I don’t know about the rest of mankind, but I’m pretty fond of carrying a tune. It’s a choice, and maybe I should make it.

            It really is as simple as that.

Tomorrow I leave for Disney World at the glorious time of 5 a.m. Woot. I won't be blogging for awhile, but when I return I will be sure to post some of my favorite holiday photos from my journey. :) Merry Christmas.

-Broe