I Have An Acrobatic Heart

It does fun little flips that make me catch my breath. It races in the heat of passion—even just thinking about the heat of passion. It breaks. It mends. It remembers the agony of the break, the ache during healing, but still loves. It refuses sit safely on the sidelines. It expands—doubling, sometimes tripling in size—making room for those needing love.

Does it always preform perfectly? No. It stumbles and falls. But it picks itself up, dusts off the drama, accepts the hurt and continues. These feats of my heart surprise me, because I haven’t always let it run free… I didn’t trust it, so I kept it locked away. Hidden. But even shuttered away in darkness it stayed soft and open. And I’m so thankful. Its capacity for love continues to grow and I believe it always will. It finds joy in the outpouring you see.

I don’t relish the pain that sometimes comes with an acrobatic heart, but I’m not afraid of it anymore. Because, like it’s jubilant opposite, the hurt proves I’m alive and capable of depths of feeling so beautiful and profound that to not know them would be like sleepwalking through life, numb to everything. And I choose to feel.


15 thoughts on “I Have An Acrobatic Heart

  1. I enjoyed this so much…I love the title and the contents do justice to it. Well written beautiful heart, well written. I am going to tweet and face book this:). Thank you

  2. I got in a long argument with a girlfriend once about this… she had an acrobatic heart too, throwing herself into everything and believing it is better to ride the ups and downs. I always believed it’s better to hold some of yourself in reserve and not suffer so much. I had a whole lecture that I could roll out on command, which I’ll spare you, especially because I’m finally coming around to acrobatics.

    See ladies? Men can change. A little. (not much) (tiny tiny, really)

  3. I love you, Noodle. Beautifully written. My heart is more like one of the trick ponies: riders jump on and off and we do beautiful things together, but then I go eat my oats in my stable alone.

    • I love you too, Hy! I bet one day you have a long and fruitful affair with the groom instead of the riders. ; ) And speaking of oats… I always loved the smell of sweet feed. Mmmm. I feel 11 again just thinking about it.

Talk to me. Please.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s