Resolutions of the Heart

I am resolute about many things. My family. My friends. My artistic abilities. But my resolution for 2012 is to take better care of my heart—emotionally, spiritually and physically.

You may recall an earlier post I wrote about how much I detest exercising and eating healthy foods that taste like cardboard. I still think the latter holds true but I’ve also come to a realization—my heart is too important not to take better care of it. I am currently at a weight that I am not happy with. And as much as I would love to blink my eyes and have it disappear, I know I have to be proactive; I can’t sit and wish for my body to be as it once was.

So, what am I going to do about it? For starters, exercise. I still don’t particularly like going to the gym. It feels cold, routine and uninspiring—to me, anyway. Now that winter will be arriving, taking a stroll through the park will not always be feasible. I’m a wimp when it comes to the weather, so we’ll see how that goes. What does that leave me in terms of keeping my body active? Indoor activities, like workout DVDs, fitness classes and my new favorite idea—I’m going to sign up for dance classes! I’ll be sure to keep you updated on how they go.

As beneficial as the physical wellbeing may be, I also am concerned with taking care of my heart on an emotional level. For most of my life I’ve been described as a people person. Or to be more precise, a people pleaser. The mere idea of confrontation terrifies me. Why? If I knew the answer, one would assume I’d have already rectified that problem. However, I have figured out at least one possible reason—I keep my heart wrapped in cellophane, covered in bubble wrap, then surrounded by a stone fortress.

I am afraid of getting my heart broken by all sorts of relationships, so it’s rare that I allow anyone close enough to really get to know me. The ones who’ve gotten to the cellophane layer are those individuals I trust not only on an emotional level, but on a spiritual one as well. I’d say the majority of people I know are at the bubble wrap level. They’re busy popping away, decreasing the strength of the layer bit by bit. Eventually they’ll break through. But why should I make them do all the work?

So in the coming year I resolve to help unwrap the bubble wrap. To face the fear head on and trust my heart more. It’s taken great care of me all these years; the least I can do is return the favor.