to have a tender heart and not bury it away under lock and key is to choose to bear a sweet burden that sometimes fits as weightlessly as a mantle, and other times as heavy as a rather cumbersome millstone.
at times my tender heart is paradoxically weightless and cumbersome at one and the same time. there are periods of time–some short as a moment, others as long as a season–where this particular thin space blooms as if a lotus around and inside of me:
the sky becomes more beautiful and the wind more meaningful.
love for all creation bursts forth like a robust and equally fragile sprout of first spring.
sunshine feels warmer and the joy of rain palpable.
harder to celebrate during these periods is the presence of my shadow.
those less joyous sides of myself that are more exposed in these thin spaces:
the pressure to preform up to traditional western standards regardless of how those fit with my gifts, talents and best way of being.
jealousy and comparison demand attention.
it becomes difficult to feel where and how i fit.
it is not as if i want things to be different.
i need neither coddling nor comfort.
just the colors of another sky, which is really this same sky above me now.