Somewhere along the way, I put my heart into a box. I wanted to contain the pain and longing. I carried it with me in a bag. That bag was stuffed to overflowing. When things arose that needed my heart, I threw them in the bag to handle later. But eventually, the bag became so full I could no longer hear my heartbeat calling. I no longer recalled what use a heart had anyway.
But one day, I stumbled into an old room. This room was ordinary, with nothing to impress. But I spied a corner in the room, familiar and yet new. My mind began to churn, trying to make sense of this old new room. And suddenly, I found my feet walking through the door. And, as I walked into the room and towards that familiar corner, my bag began to shake. The shaking startled me causing me to fall. The contents of the bag scattered all around me, and right on top of me was that box. The box I put away so long ago to keep things contains. But now, my heart was growing, its corners seeping through the box. I knew I needed to free it. Yet, I was frozen in place.
As I lay there, with my heart atop my chest, the sound of its beating began to play a familiar tune. And with that tune, my body began to move. Guided by the music, I danced with my own heart. It told me tales of heartache, longing, and despair. And afterwards, it whispered in my ear, saying “my dear one, all this pain is hard I know, but it is worth it in the end. For the love you’ve shared with others will never disappear. Instead, it grows more each day, in their hearts and in yours. So please dear one, put me back into your chest where I belong.”