Whenever something really challenging would happen, the girl always knew what to do. She’d grab some paper and pens and draw the same shape, over and over: a heart in multi-coloured lines that would express her overwhelming feelings.
One day, many years later, she rediscovered those pictures, and was able to recount each story in detail, recalling the strong emotions that her drawings expressed. It was something she needed to do, before opening her heart to another.
Our bodies store these moments of unprocessed emotion, and in the story the girl finds an old wardrobe at the back of the garden shed, and stuffs all her pictures in there. But our bodies never forget. Unless we can integrate these experiences, our hearts will register the blockage. Fear will hold us back in subtle ways, stemming the amount of love we can give, and receive.
This has been my experience again and again. Revisiting and healing those places that are still hurting enables me to return to life more committed to love; willing even to experience more hurt, if that’s what it takes to keep my heart open.
This is a short, sweet children’s story, and even a five-year-old could follow its logic. But it traces a shape that lives in all of us, and outlines the ways we can take care of it.
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