What's in the heart?

Sharing our Stories writing invitation.

When was the last time you drew what's in your heart? When was the last time you asked the question?

It's important to draw without planning and thought, just letting things come as they appear, and later you can look at it with curiosity and make sense of it. What's in a heart depends on the day and situation you are in when you draw it. My heart on a summer day on a seaside would be completely different from the one I drew on a February day, with Russia attacking Ukraine, me being exhausted from the semester ending with a week of distance learning, covid having touched my parents, hubby and daughter (all well now), and about a month away from turning fifty.  

I drew my heart with colour pencils, filled it with black zigzags, yellow circles, red swirls, patches of grey, islands of white and waves of blue. How can a heart hold so much? 

My heart holds people - family, friends, students, teachers. So many I care about and who care about me. Day in, day out with people, I need alone time. My wish to hide from the world during holidays grows stronger as I get older. These two things coexist in my heart. 

My heart holds confusion about people. I hoped that getting older would help to understand people better, and it's not so. I am confused why people are stuck in their own view, why some have the need to fuel conflicts and snowball problems rather than solve them, why harbour so much anger, why feed power by hurting others. Why is it so hard to listen? What has happened to common sense? Is hope still here?

My heart holds worry for the future. When a power drunk mega-maniac, a madman starts a war, the destruction seems unstoppable, the future feels unpredictable, the peace so fragile. I worry about Covid still rampaging through the world and who knows what other viruses we can't even predict might be ready to follow. And even when we get wars and viruses under control, we are likely to drown ourselves in packaging and trash. I am not sure the small things I do make any difference at all. Signing petitions, donating money, wearing a mask, recycling - do these matter in the big picture?

My heart holds a tangle of confusion related to my changing decade. My friends who have turned fifty already seem to have taken it lightly, no crisis, rather joy and celebration. I feel strange that it's weighing on me.  Over the past year I have heard news of young people, good people, dying suddenly, and I feel guilty for even even rising the question of age when I should feel happy to be alive at all. I have reached the age where I could easily feel content with what I have done, learned, achieved in my life,  and could lazily bask in the sunshine, and yet part of me wonders whether I should (whose should is this?) dream more, believe in horizon wide opportunities, leap forward, climb higher, contribute and create because I have collected the wisdom and still have the energy. I hold the hope that once the birthday happens I gain clarity or the questions simply fade away.  

My heart holds some beautiful things like slow Saturday mornings, board game evenings with the family, cinnamon rolls, restaurant dates with hubby, phone calls with mom, artist dates, nature walks - things I need to stay sane, healthy, happy. The wave of blue flowing through my drawing shows the mindfulness that allows to accept the good and the bad, the ugly and the pretty of the life as it is. 

What didn't I draw? What does my heart need?

Untangling the knots, less pressure and control, more playfulness, a gold crown or tiara, more space for freedom and peace. 

I look at my heart drawing and smile. Sometimes the heart may be an uncharted territory, carefully camouflaged, hiding its content for the fear of getting hurt if exposing what's there. This is why turning fifty is not so bad. I accept what's there - the colours, the darkness and the unknown white of the future. I know some of it will change. 

Some of it stays the same.

My heart is warm. My heart is a cup of tea. 

My daughter chose this as a favourite photo of me by Birgit Varblane from the natural woman photo shoot. 

All post on turning 50