Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Throwin' Down My Heart

One thing that amazes me about myself, in a good way, is my continual ability to forgive. I absolutely cannot harbor resentment. I'm just not capable of it. My broken-heartedness may sometimes take time to mend - but it always does. I love that - because I absolutely abhor the way hatred feels inside of me. It doesn't "fit". and I'm glad for that.

Being in the mood to experience some different music this evening I searched my Netflix account and scrolled to "Bela Fleck: Throw Down Your Heart". Being a fan of Bluegrass, I appreciate the Banjo and this documentary is about Bela Fleck's journey into Africa - incorporating his genius banjo playing with the local music in Uganda, Tanzania and other African countries. Driving home the statement "Music is a universal language".

Each and every time Bela Fleck entered a new country, he was welcomed with excitement and acceptance from the natives. He was greeted with smiles, laughs, affection and a shared understanding of the love and appreciation of music. I started thinking about my heart as a musical instrument and the previous ways in which I have handled joy, sadness, disappointment and intimacy in relationships. In regards to moving forward, sharing again, always so guarded. subdued. restrained. reticent. inhibited.Which in a sense, is how I feel my persona becomes.

After carefully giving my love and heart to a man, for whatever reasons, after a time of totally possessing it, he gives it back, a little more used and bruised than before. I've always been so careful with my heart upon those returns. Taking extra care to protect it longer, hold it closer, not allowing the same "opportunities" to enslave my "precious" heart again. But something about the last 8 months has allowed me to become carefree with it. More accepting of the rejection and loss. The rejection doesn't really feel like rejection anymore. It's become more of an affirmation or realization of knowing what I do or don't want. And realizing that everyone's destination in the end is the same. A journey to find that love and acceptance that isn't subdued and restrained and inhibited.

Bela cried upon parting with the locals, having gained an understanding that sometimes communication, as very important as it may be, isn't always necessary to connect, to mesh and to weave bits of your life into anothers'.

So, for the moment, I'm throwin' it down.

My heart.

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