I've been reminded that sometimes it hurts to be nice.... That it hurts to give your heart...
and that in caring about other humans, and giving pieces of yourself to them that you still need to nurture yourself too...
(I'm reminded of the story of the young man who had a perfect heart, with no cuts, bruises, imperfections, wounds or scars standing before a crowd boasting of the perfection of his heart. The crowd listened for awhile and then from it came an old man, who held up his heart which was cut, bruised, scarred with pieces missing, pieces of other hearts implanted in. A hush fell over the crowd as the old man explained how his heart came to be in such shape. He spoke of how when putting his heart out there and it was beaten and bruised, stepped on and cut and left with empty holes. He spoke of the missing pieces and of how he'd given bits of them to those he loved and that the parts that were implanted belonged to others who had shared their heart with him. He looked with love at this young man who had been boasting to the crowd that he had a perfect fully intact heart, and spoke softly, saying that one cannot truely have loved if they havn't given of their heart. When the old Man finished, the crowd said nothing, waiting. The young man sat and thought for abit. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small knife which he used to cut a piece of his heart. He handed the piece of his heart to the old man. The old man took the piece the young man had handed him and placed it into an empty hole in his own heart. The old man's heart became complete because the piece the young man had handed him fit the hole exactly. The old man then took the knife and cut a piece of his heart, Giving it to the young man, and the young man placed the piece of the old man's heart into his and both knew that they would live.)
and that in caring about other humans, and giving pieces of yourself to them that you still need to nurture yourself too...
(I'm reminded of the story of the young man who had a perfect heart, with no cuts, bruises, imperfections, wounds or scars standing before a crowd boasting of the perfection of his heart. The crowd listened for awhile and then from it came an old man, who held up his heart which was cut, bruised, scarred with pieces missing, pieces of other hearts implanted in. A hush fell over the crowd as the old man explained how his heart came to be in such shape. He spoke of how when putting his heart out there and it was beaten and bruised, stepped on and cut and left with empty holes. He spoke of the missing pieces and of how he'd given bits of them to those he loved and that the parts that were implanted belonged to others who had shared their heart with him. He looked with love at this young man who had been boasting to the crowd that he had a perfect fully intact heart, and spoke softly, saying that one cannot truely have loved if they havn't given of their heart. When the old Man finished, the crowd said nothing, waiting. The young man sat and thought for abit. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small knife which he used to cut a piece of his heart. He handed the piece of his heart to the old man. The old man took the piece the young man had handed him and placed it into an empty hole in his own heart. The old man's heart became complete because the piece the young man had handed him fit the hole exactly. The old man then took the knife and cut a piece of his heart, Giving it to the young man, and the young man placed the piece of the old man's heart into his and both knew that they would live.)
I find it just plain sucks being nice when all you want to do is go Subzero on their face.