Express, baggage and all...

Shipshape

You know when all indicators in your life point in a direction your brain recognizes you must take, but your heart will not be coaxed or cajoled, stands at the door doing a little dance but won't put its shoes on? Still yearns, poor thing, for that perfect moment when it will release fear and longing to embrace the bright giddiness of joy and melt/merge/meld/mesh into love without reservation, in total abandon. Even after all this time, all this metaphoric water under the proverbial bridge, your heart persists in believing it's still possible. And so it holds back, watching for signs, while life streams by like a river of time. I know what you're thinking. How infantile. How utterly unrealistic and immature. But, as you've no doubt discovered, you can't shame your heart to shape up and ship out. It doesn't respond to coercion or manipulation either. It just stands there, stolid as a post, hoping against hope. Ok...so, if you notice boxes and luggage piling up by the door, cluttering your comings and goings - especially those most urgent forays out for provisions - and you're stuck carrying a dimming torch; you'll know what the deal is. Don't be proud! I often pep-talk myself out loud, when I think no one's listening. But really... other than picking your heart up, kicking and screaming, and marching out there to get on with your life, I see no immediate solution. Do you? And just so you know, the post posting this post post haste, first past the post, is staying.