My Heart Wanders for a Reason

Today was not the most perfect of days, that is for sure. However, I did have a highlight and this is it. My dear friend, Lady of the Lake, and I have been lamenting over whether our photography and ideas are good enough to submit to this blog for consideration in a book. I know. Most people would leap at the chance to do such a thing. But instead, the Lady of the Lake and I hold ourselves back. We prefer to whisper our secrets in the night under the cloaks of this blog. For me, letting go of my heart and baring it all has never really successfully made me feel good. My modesty gets in the way or I hear things wrong and take insult from the pleasure of someones giggle. Quite often, I am too serious and too sensitive. Now, I am 37 and I am trying to teach myself to let go and close one eye grimacing the whole entire time. And yes, I am teaching the Lady of the Lake this too. She's working on it. And together, we can perhaps get *Mila* on the road to not being afraid of her own shadow.

So, here is the scoop. I went to PoppyTalk a few days back and discovered a wonderful link about Pia Jane Bijkerk and her compilation of "subtle hearts in special places". At first I thought I know exactly what Lady of the Lake should submit. Without question, I sent her the link and told her to start snapping her camera. In the meantime, I thought about the heart shaped sea urchin-like rock that I found placed in the backyard garden that resembled a heart. It was by mere accident that its form took on that of a heart. Only one problem, that garden was not special to me. I didn't plant those flowers or make that flowerbed and to me this house is still just a house. Today it happened. *Mila* was hunting for special clip on plastic earrings to wear around while I dressed before she went to art class. I asked her to look through her jewellery box. To her, this meant a new one that she had received for Christmas. To me, it meant MY old jewellery box with the broken off ballerina that spun around to the tune of "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head".

"No, Mom! That is my treasure box. I only keep treasures in there."

She had it shoved under her bed in a secretive spot. I opened the box to find this:

In it she had $50 worth of Monopoly money, a broken crystal bunny, two white feathers from a feather boa and there it was - the heart I had been looking for. She had crafted it from Sculpey and painted it red all by herself a very long time ago. It was so small and so insignificant to anyone who saw it that they would probably throw it out in the rubbish. To her it is her treasure. Just like the $50 Monopoly bill (Remember, this is the Electronic age and we have the Electronic Monopoly game which has no money). This little special box that plays a tune I can still her my mother sing to me inside of my head, is now her little special box. It doesn't matter to her that it is broken and is thirty-some years old. To her it is special and to me it makes me proud to be her mother.

signed, the willow