Then all of the sudden and without warning, there it was, the upsetting eighteen year old headline laid out on my dining room table, that brought back a flood of memories. We were celebrating my nephew's eighteenth birthday, when after dinner he opened up his time capsule that my husband had prepared for him after his birth. Immediately my heart was heavy and sad just looking over the front page. I realized I was now ten years older than the Princess that I grew up watching. She died at the young age of thirty-six, way too soon.
After her death, she was referred to as the Queen of Hearts and The People's Princess. It was ironic that she died of injuries to her heart, more specifically a tear in the left pulmonary vein that connected blood flow from her left lung to her heart. She was quoted as saying, "Follow your heart." That always sounded good, for she was well known for her many acts of kindness, good works, charity and a deep love for her two boys.
I won't dissect her life and point out her mistakes, for hindsight is 20/20 and none of us want our lives to be examined and judged by others that have never walked in our shoes. I can, however, dissect my own experiences with following my heart and share the hard lessons I have learned. My heart has very selfish tendencies and that has gotten me in trouble many times. Which often makes me wonder, does any one of us have a truly good heart that can be a dependable compass for leading us in the right direction? My heart wants what it wants and it wants to run wild and untamed, but that means others will get hurt and ultimately, I will pay a heavy price as well.
I recently read an article titled, Don't Follow Your Heart by Jon Bloom and was rather relieved that I wasn't alone in my thoughts on this subject. If only my heart was as good as I desire it to be. My heart is like a lion in a circus cage, and the trainer with the whip is my human efforts to keep things under control. Just looking at the magazine covers below reminds me that my heart was obsessed with Diana around the time of her death. I had seen her images all through my growing up years, yet I never really knew her but felt as though I had. It was strange. When she died in 1997, I was twenty-eight and coming out of a very bad and self destructive phase of my life. I was starting to listen less to the yearnings of my heart and pay more attention to the voice I had first known as young child.
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Stay humble & be BOLD!