When your heart’s relentlessly perched on your shirt-sleeve it can be a bit of a prick. So let’s take it to question:
Is a sensitive heart a burden or a gift?
Sensitive hearts feel it all. No escaping. No hiding, running. No denying. Not from others and certainly not others from you. Not from yourself. A sensitive heart will try to play tricks on itself. Play-acting like a hard-ass the world can’t touch. It’s cute really. Enduring to watch a sensitive pretend to be callous. They certainly are tough though. You heard me. They have to be or they’d be paralyzed under the incessant weight of their burden. They’d be strapped to their beds and totally bat-shit. It would be crushing. Sometimes it is. So for preservation sake, they retreat, camouflage, and even lash out from time to time. They may even believe they’ve won a round or two.
Those sweet hearts of denial probably don’t know themselves very well yet but their dear sensitivities always wiggle their way to the surface. They always manifest. When emotion is suppressed, illness looms — physical, mental, spiritual.
The sensitive heart who knows itself, knows peace.
They can (usually) distinguish what’s theres and what belongs to the outer realm. What’s interesting is most of these hearts would prefer their personal pain over the imposition of the someone else’s. It’s the pain of the world that betrays them. That’s the untouchable, unstoppable grief over which you hold no power and zero control.
I remember in my 20s, when I only knew my heart’s surface. I knew i felt it all far too much. I hadn’t developed the insight to understand it. We hadn’t nailed the intimacy portion of our relationship. The nuts and bolts. The good stuff. I remember drowning in the tears of the Earth. Melodramatically, existence and its agony sat in balance, nested on my tiny shoulders. I was burdened and would have traded anything to numb my way into normalcy.
There was a two year stretch when i quit God. It was after the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami. My third year college and i was devastated for weeks. The Ocean swallowed land from 14 countries in moments and swept away 230, 000 souls. It only took a blink. I couldn’t begin to grapple with the devastation but the pain was penetrating. So i quit him. It’s not that i stopped believing or anything but this was Old Testament Biblical in proportion cataclysm and i didn’t want anything to do with a dude like that. What a dick. I had enough toxic men in my life at that time without worshiping one.
I wouldn’t consider myself a religious person but i was raised Catholic and you know, God and i, we kept in touch. Our relationship was ours, not belonging to the church in any way. After that though, we definitely needed to take a break. My heart couldn’t deal with such a monumental betrayal, to so many, whom he claimed to love. Love isn’t supposed to hurt. Jesus taught us that so whatever weird patriarchal thing he was doing here, was not for me. Every once in a while my gf would call me on her way to church — hey would you like me to say ‘hello’ to him for you? — usually no but slowly and occasionally i’d consent.
So we had some major growing pains my heart and i but there were also times when i was thrown so far left, that my mind spun with beauty. Cause and effect maybe. The same year as the the tsunami — God our 20s are hard — i was busing home from university after a particularly hard day. This man, another student, tormented me the whole way home. It was so bizarre but he just sat and stared at me, then giggled at my discomfort. He didn’t say a word but it went on like this over and over the whole ride until finally i couldn’t take another moment of it and demanded — What?! What do you want!?! He starts laughing even harder. Hysterically even. Everyone could hear what was going on and getting uncomfortable but what do you do? He probably wasn’t well and he was only laughing and staring…like a kid in a car really.
By the time i disembarked i was completely shaken and feeling completely isolated. I remember walking towards my drive and seeing a big, fluffy white cat. Probably the most beautiful one i’ve seen even to this day. But it was a cat so i immediately assumed it wouldn’t let me pet it, let alone pick it up, but damn did i need a hug.
Spirit guide to save the day.
Then, this beautiful being, which was basically white light at this point, starts walking towards me and i could hear her purrs from the 50 or so metres away. It was then that i realized it was Mother Mary. I may have been taking a break from God but he most certainly had not quit me. The universe had my back. I made her acquaintance, swept her up and cried into that silky feline fur harder than i did for the tsunami victims. Pure relief. Not a drop of sadness in those tears. Only gratitude.
My bleeding heart is my greatest superpower.
That’s the superpower of a bleeding heart. Nothing gets past it and when you feel all the feels all the time to such intensity and depth, you get to recognize your guardian angels in strangers, Holy Mothers in felines (I never saw that cat again btw). You start speaking the language of the trees, and recognize the individual vibrations of different flowers.
It is absolutely, without question the greatest gift you can receive. It teaches resilience. Empathy is a built in feature that makes treading the earth easier and more fun. Strangers see themselves in you making them feel comfortable and kindly towards you. When you feel it all but master discrimination, you get to decide to how far you let it take you, how much you let it shake you. Your magic awakens, creativity sparks, and the world becomes infinite.