The heart of the matter

Sometimes life intersects all the avenues of change into a moment in time, where you’re helplessly pulled out of any comfort zone you thought you had built around yourself.  

When the heart of the matter, the heart of your life, as literal as that may be, lies naked and exposed on a table, is stopped to make it run a while more. And although I’m forever grateful for that surgeon’s steady hand, mine were shaking as I woke up that morning, on that blessed Friday 13th. 10 days of not knowing, 10 days by his side and now all I can do is sleep.  

And I know now that there’s a longing in love - all that you could do together, all that you could feel. No limits, no inadequacy, just an endless seeking towards each other and then as you reach, it widens and radiates out so that all that is, is infused by this mighty beingness we call, love.  

And as I come home for a moment from the hospital to feed the cat, the neighbor’s kids have drawn on the driveway, how two clouds full of tiny raindrops can form all the colors together, all the experiences, not discerning one as good or another as bad, just the full spectra of that which is.  

Sometimes life intersects all the avenues of change into a moment in time, where you are helplessly pulled out of any comfort zone you thought you had built around yourself. And you sit there by your love and your own heart feels as beaten up as the one they stopped and cut and you have to be the strong one and keep your head on your shoulders and protect your heart with simply your own ribs, or nothing would come back together again.  

When the roof of your house could just as easily have been torn off just as your neighbor’s, when if you hadn’t decided to go to the emergency room that morning, not only your house but your life and your heart would have been ripped apart. When it’s not safe to touch anything or to dry your eyes and you have to make sure the elevator is empty before you walk in and elbow press for floor number four. Six feet apart at least, no-one can hug you now although that’s probably what you could really need. Cause you have to protect the heart of the matter, this time you’ve been given, this man by your side. Where your head needs to be focused to keep track on what’s going on, ‘cause only you know this man, that is helpless without you right now.  

A heart is a heart to the depth of its existence, made by God knows what, and it beats by some power that runs this show although it never shows. And little by little he comes together, with stitches and glue and hope. With the calling from a woman who knows him maybe best of all he have ever known. That needs him more than maybe he’ll ever know.  

Sometimes life intersects all the avenues of change into a moment in time, where you are helplessly pulled out of the past, and put into now cause there’s no future there on which you can count. And so you pull yourself together again and stick to what you have to do, hoping it’ll be enough.  

Cause the heart of the matter is that love is it. That’s all that’s worth fighting for. The cheesy love songs weren’t cheesy at all, at the core it’s brutal and raw. And who cares about the news talking about a virus or some storm raging through.  

And you protect the one that needs your help and you feed the cat that needs food, and you change the sheets for guests who expect them and you cook clean nourishing food. And you try to protect the beaten up hearts that are trying to stay in rhythm, and you beg for just a moment of sleep just so you can keep going.  

It’s harder to see a loved one in pain than feeling the pain itself, and so you do what needs to be done and try to eliminate any invisible threats. Cause the heart of the matter is the harbor for love and it needs to be filled again, it needs to be the nest of peace and joy so it can love again. So you do what you must cause that’s all you can do, and you hold and you guard and you fight. And you sleep when you can and you cry when you must and you pray for this wonderful man. 

- Ida Kristin

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