Please return in like-new condition

We traverse life giving out pieces of ourselves with the hope that they are well-tended while on loan.  When we are young, these pieces are handed out freely, carelessly, as we begin to test the often shaky line of trust we bestow upon others.  We have much to give: love, faith, generosity, and friendship flow from us in abundance, supple fruit ready to be picked or given enthusiastically to anyone who shows interest.  

We experience the human need to connect, the desire to deter loneliness and apathy.  The wish for someone to share in secrets and pain.  The longing to look at someone and see ourselves reflected back, more beautiful and inspiring than the reality.  So we continue to hand out our pieces, willing others to treat them with care and kindness.  Not losing faith when they are tossed back at us with a hasty "dysfunctional, please return to sender," but bolstering our determination to find them a safe and happy home. 

As we grow, the healthy pieces lessen in quantity.  Some are returned scuffed up and unrecognizable, others lost to us forever.  The few that remain become precious; rarities that we hold onto just a little too tightly.  We start to realize that to give out these pieces is to equip the receiver with the perfect weaponry to damage us further.  Opening up is no longer simply exciting and joyful, it is scary.  It is the largest risk with the most terrifying and beautiful consequences.

Our hearts continue to function like overeager puppies, fluttering about merrily and shouting "open me up! Lay me bare! I want to feel!"  The capacity for caution, for bitterness, does not exist.  Trepidation is reserved for our brains, which wrap our hearts in barbed wire and ward off any potential threats. 

The same desires remain, but they are often tinged with bitterness and cynicism.  There are only so many times we can play with fire before the burn scares us away from enjoying the warmth.  The skin heals over, but the memory of pain remains to remind us to use caution, to stand far enough away that the sparks cannot reach us.


With the new knowledge of the potential danger that exists when exposing ourselves also comes the realization that in fortifying our protective barriers we also deny ourselves the beautiful experience of having the pieces we share treated with respect and love.  We cannot ignore those who recognize the value and responsibility in not just accepting, but exchanging and trusting.  

Connection is alluring.  It is frightening and exhilarating at the same time.  It is a whirlwind of anticipation and tentativeness, fear and exaltation.  A beautiful drug that fires our synapses and retards our senses.  It can be overwhelming, in both the best and worst possible way.  

And so we freeze.  Our emotions seize up. We back away slowly, tails between our legs, fear dancing in our eyes.  We don't say the words that emanate from our hearts and batter the insides of our lips looking for release.  We cower from the idea of rejection. We refuse to invite that new friend over. To offer our lips to a potential lover. To open up to a long lost relative. 

Like caged birds, we are protected from harm, but cannot experience the ultimate release of stretching our wings and feeling that delicious tension as we press against the wind. We keep ourselves safe, though unfulfilled. 

And by we, I guess I really just mean me.