I had a thought today that brought me to tears of joy.
How abundant a life I lead to say that I had the luxury of having my heart broken before.
This is not a post about looking on the bright side when in pain, nor is it a post about relationships and romance.
This is a post about the luxury of having so much love around me and within me that I had more than enough to give away. Sometimes it comes back and other times, it doesn’t. There are times where it hurts and others where it doesn’t but regardless…
…sometimes the heart still hurts the same.
It could have been the incredible weekend I had, each falling of my feet on the floor as I walked upstairs, reminding me of all the reasons I had to be incredibly grateful.
How perfect is it to claim while standing in a life filled to the brim of my own making, that I had enough optimism to look ‘the odds’ in the face a handful of times and boldly say, “I choose to see the best here.”
We forget how incredible this really is.
How wonderful is it that I get to know the word heart break because it means so much more than the pain it leaves in its immediate wake.
It means I’ve known more love than I know what to do with.
And that in its absence, my heart calls out for more of its kind.
It means that I’ve seen once impossible dreams realized and when doubt clouds up blue skies, my eyes still know that there’s so much more to see. It means I’ve known life to be so rich and full that I can’t help but ache when it feels anything other than magnificent.
This alone is behind the most elaborate of heartbreaks.
I felt its pangs before, dull like hunger that shakes you softly from a deep sleep at 2am. It was often the case however, that I would lose myself in the pain, rather than see the real gift it gave me in each moment.
I had so many opportunities to remember just how awe-inspiring this life truly is.
If we never faced pain or knew little of heartache, then we need worry more about whether or not we were truly rising to meet this life. We may not always stare it in the eye and our voice may shake as we stumble while standing, but we can say that we’re rising nonetheless.
It comes in waves and I don’t recommend sitting with pain, but I cannot say enough of how my heart shook and shifted when I remembered that while in pain over the summer, what I was really doing was saying,
“LOOK! Look at how amazing my life has been! Why isn’t it that way now?!”
And I’ll say once again, what a gift and lush luxury to say that I’ve been graced with and given pause by the creaks and cracks of a heart growing to fit so many more of the small wonders of this world.
It is how we rise to meet this life.
Your voice may shake, you may not always look it in the eye and sometimes you may stumble but these things at the very least remind you that you’re still alive and more vital than you may believe.
And like Maya Angelou’s words, so too do you rise to greet this life.
On The Wings of Miracles,