The Unsettled Heart
Assume we’re sitting in a nice, cozy cafe across from each other. The air is crisp and cold. Autumn is in full swing. We decided on our order when the friendly cafe owner greeted us with a warm smile. I order a pot of lemongrass and ginger tea, and you order whatever tickles your fancy.
So, how are you? You gently ask. I study your face for a moment. My brain attempts to come up with an answer. It’s a loaded question for a sentence structure that only moves forward. Nevertheless, I smile when I realize the person is someone I trust and am confident will understand. But where do I begin?
To be honest, I’ve just been going and going. I haven’t quite sat down to process everything. Like when you walk past that chair in the corner with all the laundry piled up. Every day you promise yourself you’ll get it done. However, you keep piling it up with more stuff. I feel the same way.
I’ve promised to slow down, but keep doing more stuff and now I don’t know what to do with this chaos in my heart. Despite doing so much, the heart feels unsettled. The only thing I know is that I need to stop doing what I’m doing and get all these thoughts and ideas back on track. I reflect on my thoughts. You’ll nod, either with hate or sympathy in agreement. Both of which are welcome, as I’m just grateful that your presence is allowing me to take stock of my emotions, because sometimes that’s all it takes. Doesn’t it?
You have been incredibly patient hearing my answer and gracefully sipped your drink. Your words reassured me about the consequences of ignoring what’s important. Your cup is already half empty, whereas mine is untouched. I must have talked too much. So, now I ask, how are you all?