Thursday, December 31, 2015

Trusting My Heart

Halfway through 2015, I discovered that I could leave a heart imprint in my flesh if I pressed down on my charm hard enough, and I found myself doing it a few times every week--on the underside of my chin, in my neck, on my sternum, but most commonly on my right thumb.
I couldn't sleep last night. That never happens to me.

I looked at the ceiling for a long time, wondering why sleep wouldn't conquer my consciousness. As I lay there in bed, I absentmindedly reached for my necklace and squeezed the heart charm between my thumb and index finger as I had so many times over the past year. I felt the metal embossing the familiar heart within a circle onto my flesh. I used that time there in bed to retrace my goals for the past years--balance, think outside the box, act  and . . . and I couldn't even remember the word I had chosen for 2014. (After checking my blog this morning, I remembered it was the unsuccessful choice of "refine" that boggered me down.) In that moment, my mind traveled over this past year and the journey I began in January to change my heart. How did I do? Had I succeeded? Am I different now? How many times did I actually ask myself the question I posed twelve months ago--"Where was my heart today?"

To be honest, the last few months have been so hard and I have been so consumed with holding everything together at splitting seams that I forgot about the state of my heart--whether I was being kind or turning my heart to God or pumping blood through it during exercise or measuring my breath against its constant beat in savasana. I have neglected the necessary fuel for my spirit--prayer, scriptures, exercise, service to others, chores around my house, yoga, mindful eating--and my answer in that moment of reflection was that focusing on my heart is not quite complete. I was glad to get that answer, because while I have chosen a new word for 2016 and have started thinking the direction I need to go, I have not wanted to remove my talisman from my neck quite yet.

Now I know that I won't. I'll just be adding to it.

Goodbye, 2015. I saw much in your 365 days. I saw tragedy and sadness and pain and death. I saw triumph and joy and healing and mighty, mighty miracles. I close the book on you with gratitude for what you taught me, regrets of where I fell far short, and resolution to improve my heart this next time around.

I released my charm from my grasp, felt for the familiar indent in my thumb, rubbed it until it disappeared, and slipped into sleep.

1 comment:

  1. Not only is this post a wise one, it is lovely in every aspect. Thanks for sharing it with us, and Happy New Year to you. No doubt you will make a meaningful one happen in 2016…taking the bad and the good and creating something of lasting value from both.