My Titanium Heart

  I didn't get to see my father very often, but when I did he always brought me a gift. One time he brought me a pouch made of deer skin (pictured below) and an arrangement of stones. I remember there was an amethyst (my favorite at the time since it reminded me of a grape Jolly Rancher), snow flake obsidian, hematite, turquoise and few others I don't remember. Through the years I've lost most of those stones, but others have come along to take their place in the pouch. One of these is a rose quartz heart.

Left to right: rose quartz, moss agate, moon stone

  The heart was given to me after a traumatic event (one I'm not ready to share here), and it's been with me for the past 12 years. Pink has never really been my color, but when I found out what gave the rose quartz it's cotton candy color, I fell in love with it. The color came from titanium or iron.  To me, that was bad ass that such a soft color came from alloys known for their strength. Since then that stone goes pretty much every where with me.

  I also learned that rose quartz helps to support love; of the self, nature, art, and others. It is also used to help open the heart chakra. A chakra I'd suspected was either closed and/or blocked a few years ago. I've felt this charka bloom or open up in the past year and at times it's been painful. Allowing this chakra to open means feeling. Everything. Immensely. I'll admit there have been times where I'll be moved by a strong emotion and find myself crying, any kind of strong emotion such as love, sorrow, gratitude, or agony. This was not something I ever really allowed myself to do. To feel so openly and completely. For so long my feelings where like dragons, strong, fierce, and hard to control.  The only way I could cope was to suppress. That path would never lead to peace. So I went and found one that would. I've been carrying this stone with me for about a year and in that year a lot of love has come my way.

  I've never been the kind of girl that fantasized about love. I find romance novels funny, romantic movies boring, and the whole being "in love with love" nauseating. In my own fairytales I'm not a princess waiting for "my one true love", but a brave warrior giving my troops an inspiring speech as the dawn approaches.  Then I ride my horse (or wolf) into battle, sword (or spear) held high, while I'm yelling, "Today's a good day to die!"

If you're going to call me princess it better be Mononoke. 

 To find myself in my own little love story came as a pleasant surprise. This was love that grew roots deep into me and blossomed into something beautiful. The kind of love that heals and soothes. That when we are together it brings rest to the sleepless. A love that over flows my heart and spreads warmth down to the deepest, coldest parts of myself. Parts that had not felt that warmth in a very long time. The hard, icy layer I had placed over my own heart for protection so many years ago, began to crack and fall away. I find myself bursting into songs like "I Could Have Danced All Night", "Goodnight My Love", and "Once Upon a Dream". My spirit has become softer. Lighter. Like a butterfly (gotta stick with the theme). A soft kiss on the top of my head while I peruse the beer aisle will all but make me swoon. The sound of his breathing as he slips effortlessly asleep in my arms brings a smile to my face.

   I'm very thankful for my titanium heart. A constant reminder that one can be strong and light at the same time. I'm also thankful for the love in my life. The love I'm able to give, the love so generously received from me, and the immense about of love that is given me in return.