Hot Glue Guns
I think we as humans have become really good at picking up the broken pieces of our hearts off the floor and hot gluing them back together on our own. We end each day with a few burnt fingers as proof of the process but have we ever stopped to think we could be doing it all wrong? We protect our hearts by setting a counterfeit one out on display just in case it gets knocked over. We put on masks because who cares if someone doesn't like it? I can change it later. In all of this protecting, we are forfeiting our greatest desire to be seen. What if people actually want to see what's real and true? What if we let the people who stick around long enough see more than just our cover? What if we let them read our stories and learn what's shaped us into the work of art we are? There are times I've been too afraid to take off my own mask and look at my own reflection in the mirror. Who am I? Have I asked the question? And if I did would I know the answer? Knowing what's inside and what lies behind what we allow people to see is scary. But it's brave. Letting others see more than a smile and hear more than an "I'm doing well" might actually be the secret to human connection. So maybe its time to take our hearts out of hiding. People won't always be gentle or care to know why we like the sound of leaves under our shoes in autumn, or why our eyes light up at the thought of a daring adventure, or the reason the songs we sing are our favorite ones, or why we like tea before bedtime. But there are a few who would like to sit and listen, who will unplug your hot glue gun and say, "here's my heart too".