Scars

About 10 days ago, I was cooking dinner and I burnt my hand. It left a painful welt. I immersed it in cold water and "shook off" the pain, while carrying on with the food preparation.

Over the next few days, the burn scabbed over and was really unsightly. I just left it alone. I had a couple of people grab my hand to have a look and said "Oh wow. Doesn't that hurt?." Again, I brushed it off. I was tough. I mean, it was just a burn.

A few days ago, I realized it wasn't healing properly so I went and applied some antiseptic and a band-aid. Low and behold, it's beginning to heal. I might end up with a scar. At this point, it's hard to tell. I'm just pleased that the darkness of the scab has subsided and the injury is starting to itch, telling me that it's healing.

I was walking down the hall today and I looked down at my hand. I was suddenly struck by the thought of how incredible the human body is. It can heal itself if the proper attention is applied.

Within another 10 steps, I realized that our heart is part of that very human body that heals itself.

I paused to consider the bruises and scars that are on my heart.

I love with vigor. Be it loving friends, family or a significant other. In the beginning, it's almost as if I am going into battle. Like a warrior, nothing will stop me from penetrating another's heart and conquering it.

Looking back on my loves ( all of them, friends and family included) I can see how the "battle" continues long after the conquest and with it comes challenges, which I'll call stab wounds. These stab wounds disguise themselves as lies, betrayal, loss of trust, small hurts, jealousy, competition, insecurity and, sometimes, rejection.

Let me say this; not all relationships leave me bruised and battered. And even the ones that wound me are well worth the effort.

I've noticed, in the last 18 months or so, however, that I've been withdrawing my "troops" and backing off from the battlefield. This is because my heart has been injured. It's been scarred, burned, stabbed, whipped, and even torn from my chest cavity.

It's a horrible feeling to become someone that you don't recognize anymore. It's a horrible feeling to hold back love and generosity and to approach every new relationship with trepidation or indifference.

It's a horrible feeling to not feel.

As I was considering all of this, the elevator door opened. I walked in and pressed "Parking". Before I got to my destination, I had a very important realization.

To survive in life, we need to eat. Just because I burned my hand doesn't mean that I will stop preparing food for myself. I don't have a choice - in order to survive, I must eat. In order to eat, I must cook.

The same can be said for love. In order to survive in life, we need love. We need love from our family (blood or chosen), our friends, and our lovers.

I don't have a choice. In order to survive, I must love.

In order to love, I must bandage my heart and head back out on the battlefield.