Hearts in Winter

Photo: Bill Walker

I don’t know how Albert Camus felt about plums and plum blossoms, but I think of them every time I see his quote: “In the depth of winter I finally learned there was within me an invincible summer.” Why? Because long ago I read that in Japan, the plum tree stands for courage because it dares to bloom while the snow is still on the ground.

Camus and the Japanese are saying the same thing, really. It’s damn hard to force yourself to blossom and remember the ripe, juicy fruitfulness you have to offer the world when your heart and soul feel like a frozen wasteland, incapable of supporting any life, especially your own.

Most of us know what it is to love someone who doesn’t love us the way we wish he or she loved us. We know what it is to feel like our heart, our lungs and all our vital organs are being removed with a spoon. To grieve so deeply that our teeth literally ache and the metallic taste in our mouth will not go to way. We know what it is to try to eat while thinking of our beloved and find that food mysteriously turns to ash, so bitter we can scarcely swallow. Most of us know what it is to feel this way.

The curse and the blessing of surviving Heart Hell are one and the same: It will not kill you. It will (to borrow a friend’s colorful phrase) feel like a splintered Stradivarius is being pulled through your chest cavity. It will hurt so badly you may pray for death, may wish for death, may even do something foolish and self-destructive to meet with death. But in and of itself, it is unlikely to kill you outright. That's the good news. And the bad.

There are any number of ways to navigate Heart Hell. But no matter the route you take, the three things I suggest you take on the journey are as follows:

1) First, remember what the Buddhists say: Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional. Decide not to suffer. When nearly all that’s left of a relationship is the pain, make like Winston Churchill who said, “If you’re going through hell, KEEP GOING.”

2) I think this one is essential: Be willing to love yourself and be true to yourself. By all means, assuming the person who broke your heart is just another human being stumbling through as best as he or she can [as opposed to being, say, a psychotic sociopath], then think of him or her with compassion. But love yourself with even more compassion. Even more fiercely.

3) Lean on your friends. I once believed that if you knew who you were and what you were worth, no one could f*** with you much. After a bout of Heart Hell that almost killed me, I learned that there are times that you forget who you are. Forget what you’re worth. But your true friends will be there to remind you. They will feed you; they will cry with you; they will laugh with you. In short, they will love you through it if you let them. Please let them. When they tell you how wonderful you are, listen. When they tell you that the man/woman/hermaphrodite/eunuch who could have had you and let you walk away (or worse, pushed you away) is an idiot who never deserved you in the first place, believe them. You are far too emotionally involved to see things rationally and there’s a very good chance that when you ARE rational again, you will concede that they are right and you are wrong. So save some time and believe them now.

Walking through Heart Hell without becoming bitter and twisted is remarkable. Coming out of it with more compassion and more understanding and more humility than you had before is, quite possibly, one of the most courageous, most difficult things you will ever do. And if you manage to put forth blossoms while the snow is still on the ground, to remember that the heat and juicy sweetness of summer still live in your heart . . . then these plum blossoms are for you.