No. 16
YOUR heartbeat (has a rhythm)
I HAVE ACQUIRED A NEW SKILL…
It’s called emotional suppression. I’m not sure when I started practicing it but I know that if I think long and hard enough, I could figure it out. I wouldn’t even have to think that long or hard because I probably already know the answer. That’s what this is about.
I’ve gotten really good at it. So good that I can do it on command. Like burping. It didn’t start this way of course. At first it was innocent. It was helpful and made my life much easier. Now I’m in a lot of pain because of what was once “innocent” and I keep imagining that I’ve been split in half ... both parts of me sitting across from one another. One is crying, apologizing, and trying to explain how I let this happen — how I let us become so disconnected. The other me just listens.
For some reason, I can’t erase this image from my mind’s eye. It hasn’t been an easy image to sit with and it most certainly hasn’t been fun. It feels a little insane to imagine there’s enough you’s to converse with. I don’t protest though. Especially because I know the me that is listening to the me that’s crying, is my heart.
I’ve run to my heart because I now realize the severe mess I’ve made. It’s been silent this whole time. Though silent, my heart is more supportive than I will ever be. It hasn’t said anything and still, I understand how much it cares for me.
It’s my turn to be silent now.
“Why do you hide from me?”, my heart asks first.
The answer is, I already know what it’s going to say. What will be said are things I don’t want to hear or feel.
“I’m not sure”, I reply.
“You hide because you’re ashamed. I know this because of the way you listen to music”, says my heart.
I don’t reply because I’m now confused.
“This is the silly thing about music. It gives us the permission and approval to feel. And sometimes, to keep feeling. For some reason, you think you can’t do that on your own”, it says.
“Is that why sad songs feel good?” I ask.
“Yes” I hear my heart say.
And now I see that I’ve been moving through my life as if I have to hide those feelings. But it’s impossible to hide from yourself. From your own heart. If we don’t ignore the music — these sounds and rhythms that keep us feeling, why do we ignore our hearts which have sounds and rhythms just as meaningful and irresistible as any song? Our literal heartbeat that is exclusively ours.
Oh, what complete and utter chaos it is to push away and hope to forget what you’re feeling by making yourself feel something else. As it turns out, I have a lot of feelings I deserve to express and work through even if I don’t know how. When you avoid, you don’t just stop feeling. In fact, it is the heart that assumes the load. My heart is strong but that doesn’t mean it isn’t exhausted — tired of not being heard. And though I don’t like to admit, I’m exhausted too. Tired of neglecting something inside of me. The writer in me. The poet in me. The artist in me. The art in me.. I am remembering how to dance to the the rhythm that is my heartbeat.
“Thank you for listening so very closely to me. I’m so sorry it’s been this long”, I say to my heart.
“You are my best friend. And I love you so much” , it says back to me.
This reunion is overdue.
