Matters of the heart

For most people, matters of the heart are the kind of things that a person must do because their heart demands it of them: a mother who sacrifices to benefit her child, an athlete who presses forward even when his body tells him to stop, a wife who stands in the rain waiting for a husband to be there when he said he would. But for me matters of the heart seem to outlaw actions rather than to obligate them.

“This is a game of the heart. Focus and finish!”

Case in point: I met a girl at church a few weeks ago—she is epically hot and inexplicably interested in me, but the issues are these: a.) she lives 2,000 miles away, 2.) she has a 6 year old daughter, and d.) she is eight years older than me.

The conflict: a.) she’s wicket hot, 2.) she’s way in to me, and d.) she’s in town this week. Any healthy American guy my age would add up those three factors and find the sum total to be an invitation to meet up with her for a quick fling, and they'd jump on the opportunity in a New York minute. I, on the other hand, am barred by my heart, or conscience or what ever you want to call it, from rendezvousing for such a “bootie call” because of the cumulative weight of the three issues listed in the previous paragraph.

If I were to meet with her I would feel ethically obligated to a.) not kiss her—which would be hard (she’s mythologically gorgeous, remember?), 2.) kiss her then validate that kissing with subsequent weeks of emotional commitment, or d.) explain to her before kissing begins that I have no intentions to carry the relationship to any type of fruition then, trusting that she fully understands my position, proceed to kiss her knowing all the while that I’d never see her again. Those are the only options I could ethically execute--and they all suck, so I figure I’d better just not see her at all.

“Remember, concentrate on the moment. Feel, don’t think. Trust your instincts.”

I don’t know that I always make the best decisions—the current one is certainly not the most enjoyable I could make—sometimes I worry that a wrong decision made here could alter my opportunities down the road there. But if there's one thing I invest a lot of faith in, it's that if I always follow that voice inside me, the voice that speaks without words, I will always make the right decision. It’s that voice inside that encourages me to take a leap of faith or inspires me to take the highroad when all I want in the world is for my road to take me to easy street.

“In time, you will learn to trust your feelings. Then, you will be invincible.”

It’s the people who prioritize ease over insight who someday find themselved disappointed, and it’s the people who remain true to that inner voice who provide a future of hope for themselves and an example of heroism to those who follow them.

“...Lord knows, kids like Henry need a hero. Courageous, self-sacrificing people. Setting examples for all of us. Everybody loves a hero. People line up for them, cheer them, scream their names. And years later, they’ll tell how they stood in the rain for hours just to get a glimpse of the one who taught them how to hold on a second longer. I believe there’s a hero in all of us, that keeps us honest, gives us strength, makes us noble, and finally allows us to die with pride, even though sometimes we have to be steady, and give up the thing we want the most.”

I’m not a real heavy video gamer, but one thing I’ve always noticed is that when you come to a fork in the road, and one direction is open while the other is blocked by a bad guy, usually the unobstructed path will only take you in circles, but if you defeat the villain there will be a power up, or a warp tunnel, or some kind of added bonus behind him, just out of sight from where you could see from where you were standing before you decided to face him.

“If once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny, consume you it will, as it did Obi-Wan's apprentice.”

Life’s the same way, the easy path is seldom the most rewarding and it often dictates or limits your options in the future. You’ve got to know what it is you want and you’ve got to be willing to make sacrifices in order to get there.

“You give up a few things chasing a dream.”

What dream am I chasing: a wife to respect and love (in that order) and kids to provide for and teach. And when I get to a point where I can feel that what I have is not what I want—the point where I can decide to settle for what I’ve got or give it up, even when what I’m giving it up for is an intangible hope--that’s when I trust that part of my heart that says, “do the hard thing, despite the pain, it will bring you what you seek.”

I’ve got a few scars from chasing my dream. Some are still sore to the touch, but I know that they won’t be in vain. Some day soon, I’ll be reading this again with someone close to me, and they’ll know that those scars were for them. I know it because I’ve seen the marks left by the wounds of others whose dream I am.