Around the end of the last century I decided to divide my heart in half and share it with a really important person. He gave it back to me whole and then some. I've never understood the finer points of the "hard sciences" - some say it has something to do with chemistry or some such. Perhaps mitosis? That's biology. And it rhymes with halitosis, so I reject it. Olivia Newton John said something about physics once, didn't she? I was distracted by the headband, can't remember. But this greatly nuanced and highly developed scientific investigation proves one thing to me: it's a phenomenon that isn't necessarily codified or quantifiable.
Just to test this theorem, we took our combined hearts and split them open again almost eight years ago and then there was this very small, delightfully distracting and demanding person in our home, all up under our skin. The hearts involved never healed properly because there was so much extra material packed into and around them - like booby trapped overstuffed chairs. Once we grew accustomed to our enlarged chest cavities, we three decided to pool our resources and make room for one more. It seemed my daughter had an endless supply - just stuffed in that little body like a clown car - we stood back in amazement as her heart poured out and out and out. Not to be outdone, we did the same.
Now there's this whole big mess of hearts under our roof. Sometimes we step on it and have to back up slowly, apologizing. Sometimes someone loses theirs and someone else steps up and shares a bit of theirs until the first someone gets it back together. Sometimes we stretch that rubbery, sticky mess as far as it will go in four directions so we can have our own bits for a while. Sometimes there are intruders. People who would want to come and meddle around in that. Sometimes we let them visit for a while. Sometimes they are unwelcome. Sometimes I wonder how we all got in this mess to begin with. Sometimes I wonder how exactly it all works. Sometimes I wonder if this is how it works for everyone. Sometimes I wonder if at some point the whole mess untangles. Most of the time I don't really care. I don't know the answers to any of these wonders why.
What I do know is that when I tell them I love them with all of my heart, it's a blessedly messy business.
Just to test this theorem, we took our combined hearts and split them open again almost eight years ago and then there was this very small, delightfully distracting and demanding person in our home, all up under our skin. The hearts involved never healed properly because there was so much extra material packed into and around them - like booby trapped overstuffed chairs. Once we grew accustomed to our enlarged chest cavities, we three decided to pool our resources and make room for one more. It seemed my daughter had an endless supply - just stuffed in that little body like a clown car - we stood back in amazement as her heart poured out and out and out. Not to be outdone, we did the same.
Now there's this whole big mess of hearts under our roof. Sometimes we step on it and have to back up slowly, apologizing. Sometimes someone loses theirs and someone else steps up and shares a bit of theirs until the first someone gets it back together. Sometimes we stretch that rubbery, sticky mess as far as it will go in four directions so we can have our own bits for a while. Sometimes there are intruders. People who would want to come and meddle around in that. Sometimes we let them visit for a while. Sometimes they are unwelcome. Sometimes I wonder how we all got in this mess to begin with. Sometimes I wonder how exactly it all works. Sometimes I wonder if this is how it works for everyone. Sometimes I wonder if at some point the whole mess untangles. Most of the time I don't really care. I don't know the answers to any of these wonders why.
What I do know is that when I tell them I love them with all of my heart, it's a blessedly messy business.
I smiled all the way through this. I'm with you, Suzanne, I can't figure it out either but it seems to work best when it's just allowed to roam about, overflow and drench as it pleases. Happy for your blessedly messy business! :)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Sabrina! "Allowed to roam about, overflow and drench as it pleases..." love that.
DeleteHere's to the messiest of businesses!
ReplyDelete(And, what the hell was UP with that headband?)
Gambei! (That means "bottoms up" in Mandarin. I never know if it's "here, here!" or "hear, hear!" and that's just embarrassing.)
DeleteAnd re: ONJ - Your comment made me do that out loud sudden barking laugh. Like: "Pah!" because, exactly. What was UP?! I actually thought of you when I typed that because I figured if anyone would immediately catch that reference, it would be you.
Just beautiful!
ReplyDeleteWhat is some dude named Al once said?
"Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love"
Scientists may wish to trespass over those borders of the heart, but we can blow them a kiss & say goodbye.
They may map our brains & tie our emotions neatly into bundles of neurons & ganglions.
It keeps them off the streets & out of the bars, so I'm all for their experiments & theories,
but they can't predict nor dictate our loving needs anymore accurately than they can the weather...
This Al guy also said this:
"There are two ways to live your life -
one is as though nothing is a miracle, the other is as though everything is a miracle."
Seems to me you & he have more than a keen intellect in common...
Seems like you both also have an innate wisdom.
Blessed are the messy, for theirs is the kingdom come.
xoxo
Al...Gore? Green? Surely you didn't just put my intellect in the same sentence as Albert E.! Your comments are poetry in and of themselves and they make my head feel a little carbonated.
DeleteThank you, thank you.
Wow, Lori, your comment is beauty on its own. I love it.
DeleteWhat a fantastic description of the whole messy affair-best (and most appropriate) I've read, I do believe. The headband was distracting!
ReplyDeleteWow, thank you so much! I just read your post for today and messy affair does not even begin to cover it. It was actually days like yours that I was thinking of when I wrote this. So much we do, so much we put up with that we just wouldn't if there weren't some kind of greater purpose involved, i.e. being blindingly in love with your roommates.
DeleteSo very distracting, that headband. It distracted at least one entire generation.
That really is a beautiful, witty, funny, lovely sharing of hearts description! And I'm totally with the rest - - what was ONJ thinking when she donned that headband??!!!!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Judy! I'm glad that you found it funny. I find it difficult to be entirely serious when writing about things like love or else it just seems cheesy or maudlin.
DeleteSo, no headband for you either?
Great. Now I have to google Olivia Newton John.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful mess I'd say.
Larissa, you having to google ONJ is both the most depressing and somehow the most giggle-worthy thing that's happened to me so far today. (It's early yet, but I am sitting here giggling like a fool about how ridiculously old I am, so it's hard to imagine anything topping this.) :)
DeleteIt has finally happened. Masked Mom has beat me to the very thing I was going to say on MY OWN BLOG. 213 points for her. And Larissa, you dear sweet thing, you. Google away, I'm not sure how enriching it will be. This is not a fashion statement that needs to come back by any means. You get 187 points for making me snort coffee and feel like a fossil and stare at my computer screen with something approaching awe all at once.
DeleteHow many points do I have to collect before I can turn them in for the Cliffs Notes version of Infinite Jest? ;)
Delete584,182,500. That's: number of pages in the book x number of times I have to read each page to make sure I read that right x number of days spent on the endeavor x rough out-of-pocket cost for the therapy required upon finishing.
DeleteLove it!!!!
DeleteAh, youth. :-) One of my colleagues at work recently admitted she *just* learned that INXS is pronounces "in excess" and not "inks."
DeleteSigh.
Well, she is obviously the Devil Inside.
Delete*quickly whips off headband*
ReplyDeleteWhat? What headband? Where?
I kid. Kinda. Is it still a headband when it's pushed back off my forehead?
Also, this is the best description of love I've ever read.
First things first: Anywhere between the eyebrows and the hairline is the "No Zone". After the hairline is all a gray area (much like my hair) that is contingent on fabrics, activities and general cojones of the wearer.
DeleteSecondly, speechless. I have always maintained that love is one of the most difficult topics to write about without resorting to cliche or quoting Robert Burns. I wrote this, in part, in an attempt to force myself to do that. Your praise means so very, very much.
And, damn, if sometimes those hearts break or crack and it becomes impossible to patch it back together. But I think they break when you don't do the maintenance that the warranty requires. But really? it's a sucky warranty b/c the manufacturer will never take back a broken heart and you might have to drag that heart around.... (cue up Fleetwood Mac),
ReplyDeleteGreat post, Suzanne!
Thank you, sebtown. Yeah, the hearts, they break. They are so resilient, though. Unbelievably resilient. They may never resemble their original form again, but then when allowed, they become something new, different, better.
DeleteThis is an artichoke of a post: layer after layer of depth and feeling, the "heart" of the matter at its core. I'm in awe.
ReplyDeleteI love artichokes. The prickly leaves with the delicate underbellies. The touch and hairy choke, and then the heart... the delicious heart. I am in awe of your praise, actually. Thank you.
DeleteThis made me smile, feel a little teary-eyed, and then mostly in awe. And want to go snuggle my Hubs.
ReplyDeleteYou should do that very thing.
Delete