I am exhausted. Physically my body is quaking with the exhaustion. It baffles me that when my body has become too tired to move it moves uncontrollably. I suppose this is true because I am equally baffled by the way my heart moves the same. Just as I feel I have emoted so strenuously for so long that my heart must soon collapse, it begins to flutter far from my control.
These tiny pitter-pats, if they were to occur not after such a strenuous occupation of my heart, would give me pause. In fact I HAVE paused recently, mistaking these unintentional quakes for actual motion of my heartstrings. It has done me no good and I believe I only recognize it because of the harm my reactions to these meaningless flutters has brought me in the past and the repercussions I feel still.
Now, just as I feel from this physical exhaustion that I ought not ever move again, the exhaustion echoing out out my heart makes me want to never feel again. Yet just as I know that in order to live I must move, I am aware that it is equally vital to my survival that I continue to feel. To emote. To live, I must love.
I know the pain that this will bring me, and not just by physical strain. I know the pain of a twisted heart is more focused than that of a twisted ankle, and I know that the possibility therein is not reason enough to never run or climb or jump or fall and love again. In order to be healthy I must exercise. My heart as well as my body and mind. My life will not continue in any healthy manner if I go back to the laziness of motion and emotion that I have known for so long and on so many occasions. I must continue to strive to be healthy and whole.
Now; what does this mean? What must I do to exercise my heart without playing some “X-Game” with it? I do not wish to put the future of my ability to emote at risk, yet I do not know of any protective gear for the heart. I can know what the dangers of any physical activity are before I begin, and can take direct measures to prevent injury therein. The same is not true for the games of the heart. I do not know how to determine the risks, nor do I know where to obtain padding and protection from a broken heart.
I know that just as bones mend themselves, the heart will heal from such injuries. Yet I know also that one should go out of his way to prevent a broken arm or leg or happiness or fear. For just as I do not enjoy limping from one place to another on an injured leg, I do not find limping in bliss or sorrow the best way to move through feeling.
I have been studying as long as I can remember the matters of the heart and how to go about them with minimal injury. I admit that I feel just as perplexed at the matter as I was when I began. I also find that just as X-Games are more appealing than every-day sports, relationships that put my heart more at risk and situations that are more likely to produce more profound emotions have almost unbelievably stronger appeal. I wouldn’t attempt to dive off a cliff without some way to reach the bottom safely. I’m reluctant to fall into love without some way to reach the bottom safely.
I’m so tired of all of this. Yet the exhaustion somehow just makes me want to be MORE active. I can “feel the burn” and guess it just means that I’m really growing strength only when I push myself the hardest. I’ll only grow stronger by continuing to play the dangerous games that challenge me the most.