yes, about love

sometimes i feel like sharing my guts on the world wide web, which i find troublesome. is it because i'm lonely? crave attention? need feedback? is it because the www is a venue where i can trick myself that i'm being vulnerable, sharing with faceless people from the solitude of my bedroom?

mostly, lately, i refrain from sharing, but today you're getting the guts. brace yourself.

this week, i got several messages from the universe and each of them said, 'good morning. you're kind of lame.' don't start feeling sorry for me--this is self-imposed lameness. like, 'good morning. you didn't return the calls of any of the people who tried to show you they cared about you AND you still had the nerve to tell yourself that no one cared about you. you're kind of lame.' or like, 'good morning. someone extended a heart to you and you stared at it like you'd never seen a heart before til finally the owner ordered a retreat. you're kind of lame.' or like, 'good morning. you didn't have the guts to do what you knew you needed to do, namely make that choice close that door turn off that light and keep walking. you're kind of lame.'

there's a happy ending to this story, and i'm going to spoil it and tell you: it's me learning to love myself when i'm kind of lame. you know those crazy people who think they're going to get to heaven and happiness by blowing their own sail? i'm one of those people! perfection, in my eyes, is like bowling a strike. it shouldn't be too hard if you just apply yourself. weakness is a choice.

well, i'm not a great bowler. infer what you will about my level of perfection.

i have a friend who believes there is depth under every surface. she doesn't only believe it, she looks for it, and i aspire to be like her. the other day, we were having a nice little chat about heartbreak wherein i expressed a concern about the depth of my heart, and she said, "i know that my heart has the capacity to expand and love someone so well, better than he even knew he could be loved." since then, this thought has been running around inside me because while i'm drawn to the depths i've never felt like my heart had anything great to offer.  just ordinary love.

here's what i've determined. my heart is the best thing i've got to give. it has to be, right? and not just romantically, or to one person--to myself, to you, to everyone.

this post is a real-life triumph about the power of writing to reveal you to you (or me to me). yesterday i wrote in my journal that i wanted to work on developing a new gift, but i wasn't sure which gift, and now, at the end of this post, i know. i have a good idea of where to find depth too: in loving my lameness, my gutter ball days, my shallow sometimes.

cheers to the over and over quest for an extraordinary heart. join me?