Today's post is a little atypical, as I ordinarily post during the week. However, seeing how little I've posted this week, I've decided to write up a special Saturday edition.
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No More Cobwebs
Matters of the heart is a curiosity that has plagued men and women alike for centuries on end. Why do cheezy pop songs about love climb the charts? It seems because we all unfortunately know (and have felt) what the singers are talking and singing about... we relate to it.
Ah, the heart. What a funny place. What little control we have over it. Or is that really the case?
I once thought that I had no control of my heart. I thought my heart had settled on one person, and for almost 10 years that fact remained unchanged. But it was a heart in waiting, and I don't get the impression that hearts will wait around forever. Not if it's the only one waiting.
So I took a summer and decided to open my heart, and let in more than I had ever before. It was my summer of love. It began and ended in San Francisco, but it branched out to LA, Germany, Poland, and Paris. By the end, my heart had swelled, and as it emptied, I found myself feeling free; free of the cursed love I had carried around with me for so long. The only love I had left in me was a love for myself.
In the months that have followed, life has been challenging through my unemployment, family issues, and stress that has reached levels so high that my body is beginning to physically react... but I have never felt better. To have my heart back makes everything manageable.
There is someone in my life again now, and I find myself being apprehensive from time to time. I suppose I just want to make sure I know my balance point; I want to share my heart, but I don't want to give it away.
Time will tell how things progress, but I do know one thing. My heart was mine again, if even for only a short time, and that means that right now, for the first time in my life, I am beginning a relationship with someone and I don't have any old love in tow. And that knowledge -that feeling- is incredible.
It makes me feel like anything is possible.
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A Piece of You
There is something amazing about something that is handmade by a friend especially for you. It almost doesn't matter what it is that they've given you, so long as you know that they made it for you, you're going to love it. (Unless you don't love it, which happens sometimes..)
The question is though, why love it simply because they made it?
Well, making something takes time. Sometimes it takes days, or weeks. It takes forethought, planning, and effort. It takes time out of that person's life.
But that time doesn't disappear. It is captured within the finished product. It will forever reflect the person who made it in the eyes of its recipient. A handmade item for a friend is like a time capsule of your soul. So long as its around, you're around.
And that's what friends are for ;)
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Paris
Paris, Paris, Paris. I finally figured out why I like you so.
You treat me like an adult.
You allow me to make it my responsibility to watch out for the multitudes of scooters and Vélib riders who careen past the line of traffic-jammed cars as I cross the street. You test my patience on Sundays and Mondays by shutting everything down, but it forces me to just simply plan ahead. You keep the lights on at night so if I want to drink wine with my friends at the Seine until the first metro, we can; you know we'll be okay.
Paris, you let us learn lessons along the way of our mistakes. You trust that we have a head on our shoulders. You leave us alone to make our own decisions. And yet, your rain, your clouds, your fog, and your sunshine always remind us that you are the reason for all of this in the first place.
So big'ups to Paris. As far as cities go, you're like a mother to me.
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