And we're back.
I can't begin to write everything that I'm feeling. After four months in California, I've finally returned home. Among the bitter-sweet mixture that often comes at the end of a journey, I suppose the best word to describe what's in my heart is gratitude. Overwhelming, free-flowing, warm-you-up, make-you-cry, gratitude. I spent countless hours playing, laughing, and bonding with my nephews. I got to know my sister and brother-in-law so much better than I did before. I made friends and memories to last a life time. And if all of that wasn't enough, I learned more than I think I even realize at this moment.
I miss California and everyone there already. I guess that's the only real downside to travelling for extended periods of time: you leave bits of your heart everywhere you go. I always tell people that Idaho has my heart, but I know I left some of it scattered across the islands of Hawaii, a bit in Hanalei, a piece in Kohala, Hilo, and all over Oahu. Now that I'm home from Cali, it seems I left a bit of it there as well. You'd think after all this absent-mindedness, forgetting to take my heart with me when I leave, I'd run out of love. But nope. Because the more that I give, the more I seem to have. It's like the saying, "What you send out is sure to come back." I feel like as I give out bits of my heart, love pours into the cracks and holes left behind. It's not always the easiest thing, but so far, it has always been worth it.
There's a story I heard once, a long time ago about a beautiful heart. After a little research I found it online, so here it is. :)
A young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it. But an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said, “Your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine.”
The crowd and the young man looked at the old man’s heart. It was beating strongly but full of scars. It had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in … but they didn’t fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. The young man looked at the old man’s heart and laughed.
“You must be joking,” he said. “Compare your heart with mine … mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears.”
“Yes,” said the old man, “Yours is perfect looking … but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love….. I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them … and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart but because the pieces aren’t exact, I have some rough edges. Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away … and the other person hasn’t returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges … giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too … and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?”
The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man.
The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man’s heart. It fit …. but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges.
The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man’s heart flowed into his.Sometimes, I'm afraid to love. Afraid to do things that will require bits of my heart, because it's not the easiest thing. But in the end, it's totally worth it. Take care of my heart Cali. <3 On to the next adventure.
