Heart to Heart

Letting people see the soft and vulnerable places of our hearts can be one of the hardest and most scary things to do. It's kind of funny though, because letting people see that you are human allows them to be close to you. As someone shares their thoughts, fears, joys, hopes, dreams, failures, triumphs, and heartaches, you can't help but love them even more. We are so afraid of letting people in. We need to let people in.

How do you let something go when all you want to do is hold it tighter? It's the weirdest thing to sit next to someone you love and be ok with letting them go if you have to. It's not my favorite feeling mind you, but in a painful sort of way it's kind of comforting. I guess it's not painful, more heartache-y, in a happy melancholy way. Man that's a hard emotion to describe. Sitting on the sidewalk watching Scorpio dance across the sky, I realized I loved you.

I hope I have what it takes to follow my own advice. We sometimes long for things to come back, for doors to open again and let us in. When a door closes we want nothing more than for that door to be opened to us again, we would do things differently, we would be better, we would do whatever it took for that door to open just one more time. This breaks my heart because I have felt this many times before. Many, many times. But if we stand there, holding that closed door, willing it to open, staring at its surface, wishing we could get inside, or even just see inside again, we will miss every other door God opens for us. There may even be a better door just a few steps away, wide open. Until we let go and walk away from the closed door, we can never be content without it. We will always be stuck, we won't progress, we will become fearful and uncertain about many other things, and disappointment, guilt, and endless "if only"s will weigh down our souls. Who knows, that door might open again. But if it does and all we did was stare at it the whole time and make plans for how we would change and do things right, will we really, truly be ourselves, or will we constantly be striving to be what we think they want us to be? What kind of life is that?

It can be so hard to let go. But then my thoughts turn to the most famous line of John Greenleaf Whittier's poem Maud Muller: "For all sad words of tongue and pen, The saddest are these: 'It might have been!'" I think we usually use this line to describe how we feel about the doors that are closed to us, but I feel like this describes even more poignantly the doors that stand so long open, but then close when we choose not to see them. It makes me wonder, "what am I not seeing that God would that I should have?"

Exoskeleton

Remember biology in school? Ever seen a bug's clear, discarded shell? Seen a snake shed it's skin? All signs of growth. Creepy, disturbing signs of growth. Spiders, like other exoskeleton types, (of course excluding snakes, they are vertebrates) are limited in size by their exteriors, trapped, as it were, inside themselves. They get bigger inside than their outsides will allow and something has to give or they will suffer, and really, who likes to suffer? Not me.

Could have fooled you, eh? Yeah, could have fooled me too. I say I don't like to suffer, but I always seem to stop myself from doing what I really want to, so I get all cramped up and start wishing things were different. I don't make sense to myself at times, I doubt I make a lot of sense to others, but if you have any really great observations you feel would be helpful feel free to share them with me. I'd appreciate it.

Ever read "The Dawn Treader" by C.S. Lewis? Eustace Scrubb is a brat and he gets turned into a dragon, and learns things. Then he wants to be in his own body, but the only way to do that, Aslan says, is to tear off the exterior. Eustace tries a few times but even though it hurts and he's using his dragon claws and tearing as hard as he can, it's not enough. Aslan has to use his "king of beasts" claws, and trust me, they're huge, sharp, and cut very deep. The pain was excrutiating, but finally Eustace was once again himself, albeit sore and humbled.

I wonder if spiders experience pain. If so, I wonder if breaking open their bodies hurts, or if it is a relief to finally get out of the constricting, too small body. However, I don't know that there have ever been any successful interviews of any spiders on this subject, so we may never know. Even if it does hurt to rip off their very own body they do it so they can grow and become better. I feel a little trapped in myself right now, I've been trying to get out for a while, but only recently have I felt that panicky claustrophobic urge to rip myself out of me and grow. The scary thing about taking off my calloused, worn exterior is that I become extremely vulnerable. Just like the butterfly newly escaped from the cocoon, I'm helpless until I can fill my wings with strength. The spider, once freed from it's old carapace, is free to grow but can become more agitated due to its vulnerability. Attitude can be polarized with higher aggression when threatened, in order to feign invulnerability, and an increased timidness until the new outer shell is fully hardened.

The problem is I don't want to get all calloused and hardened. I hate getting hurt, and it has happened a few times more than I want to remember, but I feel like I really need to break out of my shell. I hope you realize the meaning behind that phrase now.

I plan on living my life, not just hoping for life. This is going to suck. It's going to be awesome. I can't wait to see what happens, and I'm a little scared. I'm moving forward, trying new things, trying old things I just haven't done in a while, working on projects, registering for classes, and daring myself to do better.

Wish me luck.