What makes sense?
Nothing makes sense, in a way.
Like many, I sift, process, sort. Matching what I knew and believed with all my heart, against the stark facts of reality shown me.
Against my Heart.
My heart against my Heart?
No, not against the heart I knew and which had lead me all my life. Not the one that loved, that fell; the one that leapt that grieved that drove all night fought all odds took every chance and would never turn it’s back….
But a deeper Heart. The Heart that is still. The one that keeps me alive. The one that is me, through and through, that nothing can break, destroy. The one that the truths of all that is real, all that is unchanging, speak to. The one that is complete, when I am not, for it is but part of the all where it always fits. Where everything makes sense, even while I cannot comprehend.
This is the Heart that knows, when I am unknowing. This Heart is the guide that sets me in the direction I cannot understand, but gives me the glimmer of rightness that decides for me, that picks my path. Against my logic, my feelings, my heart, this Heart quietly holds me true to course when I have failed, lost my way, fallen into unseen pits and held no map in my hand.
This Heart whispers, in language I don’t remember but will hear nonetheless if I am still…”Follow me. This way…”
It murmers, “You have not been lost at all.”
It pulses, so steadily yet so subtley, saying, “This way” and, “You already know.”
It says “I will never leave you.”
This is my Heart. The one that healed my broken heart. The only one that made sense when life made no more sense. It was there all along.
